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I woke up the other morning to the realisation that it's already the month of June. Which means that winter is less than six months away. One reason I suspect the time seems to have gone by so quickly is that, by most standards, the weather this spring has been rather sub-par with cooler than usual temperatures and lots of rain (let's save that precipitation for the winter folks). In the spirit of making the best of it, the Snowboard.Com east coast crew decided to end the month of May with a bang (from a boom stick) by taking in a musical.

The city of Toronto has a rather vibrant theatre scene. Which is not something you would expect snowboarders to notice but we can be highbrow once in a while too. Of particular interest, the Diesel Playhouse was putting on an adaptation of a classic cult zombie movie Evil Dead throughout the spring. When I tell people about it, they usually give me a strange "it's a musical about zombies?" look. I'm quick to point out that It can't possibly be any worse than the opera adaptation of An Inconvenient Truth (an opera about a PowerPoint presentation? Really?) Besides, how often can you say you've been to a musical and left covered in fake blood (I assume it's fake). It's like Shakespeare meets Gwar, how can this possibly suck?

The Ottawa contingent of the crew stayed at the Holiday Inn on King street, only two blocks away from the playhouse. Upon arriving, we shared the elevator with some nice ladies who were in town to see the Dirty Dancing musical at the Princess, and they asked us if we were there for the same reason. Based on my general appearance, I found this question somewhat odd. The look on their face was priceless once we told them we were going to see Evil Dead, and it led me to the conclusion that we probably wouldn't to be going down with them (in the elevator you perverts).

The East Coast Crew waiting to get Evil

After scattering to track down food and beer for later, it was time to meet up with the rest of the crew. Since we were all coming from different directions, and not everyone had actually met in person prior to this meet, the logistics of meeting up were a slight bit difficult. In fact, one of my road trip companions, Chris, called my cell to tell me he was going to meet one of the other members of the crew, also named Chris, whom he had never met previously. I said "you don't know what he looks like, how are you going to spot him on a downtown Toronto street?" His response: "He's a snowboarder." That's when it occurred to me that we snowboarders do live at a different pace than most people (skiers too). Especially in a metropolitan area such as Toronto where people seem to be in much more of a hurry and much more concerned about their image than in most places. I actually had faith, due in no small part to Chris' response, that my shred pals would have no problems finding each other. I was not mistaken, I caught up with the rest of the group in front of the hotel and we made our way to the playhouse.

The musical itself was extremely entertaining. Since it's based on the Evil Dead series of movies (Evil Dead , Evil Dead 2, Army of Darkness), we were expecting a certain amount of camp, and this stage show was certainly full of it. It was done in the perfect self-effacing way which rendered it amusing rather than annoying. The actors even joked about how Spider-Man 3 was a horrible movie (Sam Raimi directed the Evil Dead movie). The highlight of the musical was the final battle at where Ash slayed all the zombies (sorry for the spoiler). I have never seen so much fake blood used in my life. It was squirting out of the walls all over the crowd. Fun times.

After the show, stoked on being evil, the crew got up to some pre-drinking at the hotel in preparation for painting the town red (with blood?). After getting nicely warmed up, we were off to find establishments to consume refreshments. Yet somehow this feat could not be managed without a tree being transplanted into the hallway to our hotel. Apparently alcohol turns people into landscapers.

After walking around for a while and ducking into a number of pubs for refreshments, along with some other random shenanigans, it was time to call it a night since the bars were closing. On the way back to the hotel, I received a text message from Chris saying that apparently someone was shot behind the princess theatre. They were cleaning up the scene as he was walking to meet his ride to Whitby. All this time, I was expecting that our musical would prove more violent than Dirty Dancing, which our lovely friends from the elevator were attending. Clearly I was mistaken on that count.

Puppet Jesus sitting at the top of the Big Apple in Colborne.

The following morning, we decided to locate a Golden Griddle we had seen the night before to have breakfast before we left. After fueling up on the all you can eat buffet and omelet bar, it was time to hit the road. On the way home, we decided to stop at the Big Apple in Colborne to buy some pies. This is where our trip took on a whole new dimension of cool when picked up an itinerant puppet with long hair, a beard, and some crazy ideas. That puppet turned out to be Jesus (or at least a very striking likeness thereof). The irony in all this is that we found him at a Big Apple which, if memory serves, is the forbidden fruit of the Genesis. Jesus was quick to participate in our road games of "hot or not" and was surprisingly good at it. Although I suppose I shouldn't be surprised since he is the son of god. In any case, Jesus is dope and he's certainly a good road trip companion, a fan of metal and a darn good dancer. When we first picked him up, he was rather subdued. Nathan even thought he was dead but we knew not to worry, "he'll be full of life in three days." It certainly didn't take three days, especially after a can of Saskatoon Beaver Buzz.

The Beaver Buzz turned out to be a bit of a mistake. Although tasty, it must contain some kind of super diaretic because it made me have to pull off the highway to pee. I was going to wait for the gas station restrooms until Jesus pointed out that the world is my gas station rest room. He's so wise. We finally made it home satisfied with our road trip shenanigans and happy for having found Jesus.

In sticking with my usual modus operandi of never walking away from an experience without learning something, here's what I learned this past weekend:

• Snowboarders are recognisable everywhere. They seem to have a different gate about them.
• Apparently the Dirty Dancing musical, counter to conventional wisdom, was much more violent that the Evil Dead musical... go figure.
• Jesus Saves... road trips. Although ours didn't need saving by any stretch. He sure made it more interesting. Keep your eye open for him, you never know where you might find Jesus.

Phew! Those are important life lessons indeed. Now I'm looking forward to my next live theatre excursion. Rumour has it that Monty Python's Spamalot is coming to Toronto in the fall, maybe I'll check that out. I'll be staying away from the Dirty Dancing musical though, that's much do violent for my sensibilities. In the meantime, I'm rejoicing in the fact that there's less than six months until winter and you can bet that I'm counting down the days.

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Hey all, and welcome to another edition of the Daily Barns.  This past weekend was the Snowboard.com "Screw Mother Nature, We're Getting shi*ttered" meet at Blue Mountain in Collingwood Ontario and let me tell you, after this meet we might want to be thanking mother nature rather than telling her to sod off (on account of the complete lack of visible sod anywhere unlike we expected when this meet was originally planned).  This was the first meet for me personally where I got to shred the gnar with my fellow ECers and it was a great weekend of progression, laughs, pretzels, skanky girls (not in our crew), riding without lift passes and poaching freshies.

The road trip started for me when I picked up the rest of the Ottawa crew who were riding the Bangbus to Blue (No one is really sure how it came to be known as the Bangbus, but this became its official name).  Once Chris (AddictiveEscape), Jeremy (Mr. King), Brianna (atomicsnowqueen), myself, food, booze and snowboarding gear were loaded into the bus, it was time to face the white out conditions on the long drive to Blue.

The drive took about 7 hours total (including a stop at Wendy's to steal trays for beerbogganing and a few pee breaks).  Upon our arrival in Collingwood, it took us a while to find the right chalet, "Chef" (crasiestwy) came through for us, he arrived just minutes after we did and immediately knew where to go so he let us in.  Once we were settled, the craziness began with a jump building party.  Most of the night was spent in the parking lot in front of the chalet drinking beer and doing acid drops (the snowboarding kind, not the small paper square kind) from the second floor balcony.  We developed a bit of a fan base including the skanky girls from the chalet next door; they saw us building the landing and asked us if we were planning on jumping from the balcony.  We call them skanky girls because with a little more convincing, they probably would have taken their clothes off to watch us do acid drops; however no one from our chalet seemed particularly interested in that.  Within an hour, most of the neighbourhood was outside their chalets watching the show with iPods blasting from car stereos and crazy shred dogs doing their crazy thing, it was a good night.

Once we got tired of jumping, we re-appropriated some DVD cables from one of the other chalets (our chalet had a DVD player without cables for some reason), and proceeded to chill out watching shred videos and eating pretzels.  Chris eventually passed out on the couch so the pretzels then became projectiles to try to wake him up.  The floor was littered with pretzels, so the next morning while walking around in the living room area, the floor seemed a little crunchier than usual.  The phrase "f**king pretzels" was uttered on a number of occasions.

Saturday was a day of riding.  In hopes of not having to buy lift tickets, we parked the cars at the top of Blue and rode down from there.  The conditions were great, I suffered from toe drag on the first run however (this is what happens when you angulate too aggressively) and did at least one complete flip, dragged my backside, got up and rode it out to hoots, hollers and laughs from the rest of the crew.  There was much progression on this day too, by the end of it we had the rookies cutting lines in the trees, dropping cliffs and trying terrain park features.  All this without buying a single lift pass and there were nine of us riding together that day, this feat still amazes me (thank you to lax standard liftie operating procedures).  Once we were done riding for the day, it was time to head back and plan the festivities for the night.  This included more front yard jibs, a bangbus jib (videos coming soon hopefully) and even more progression as the rookies all successfully executed trash can bonks.  As was the case the previous night, our adoring fan club was there to watch the show and drink their trashy asses silly.

The final day started a little later than the previous.  We were all pretty tired and sore for the previous day's riding.  There was still one thing left to do however; ride down the Orchard.  Since it had been snowing on and off all weekend, and nobody rides the Orchard on account of there not being any lift access, we decided that we would go poach some freshies on Sunday morning.  This required some pentagon planning and military like precision.  The plan was to park one car at the bottom of the Orchard, pile everyone else into the other two cars to shuttle them up.  After the run, the drivers of the other two cars would be shuttled up in the car that was left behind to come pick up the rest of the crew.  So off we went, Carrie (Cazza21) parked her car in the P1a lot, and she jumped in the Bangbus for the drive up the mountain.  We parked on a dead end street, skated back to the mountain road, then stealthily snuck into the forest.  Once out of eye sight of the road, we started hearing the distinctive sounds of snowmobiles.  Thinking it was the Blue Mountain Gestapo, we hid in the trees hoping they wouldn't notice our tracks.  Once we were confident that we hadn't been pinched, the hike to the orchard began.  It was totally worth the effort, we arrived at the top to untracked runs; freshies are so beautiful.  Sean (powjunkie) took the lead followed by Jeremy, Chris, then the girls followed by Adam.  I was bringing up the rear to make sure everyone made it down since at least half our party had never ridden fresh powder before.  I'll tell you, there's nothing quite like riding fresh untracked snow.  Even if it's in Ontario and it's on top of a thin layer of surface melt; it's a total Zen experience.  After getting my fill of nose presses and spraying the trees on turns, we gathered up at P1a and decided that we should end on a high note.  We packed up our gear and made our way out of Blue Mountain to finally take our separate ways home.

This was easily the best Snowboard.com meet I've ever been on which gives me high hopes for Telus this coming April.  A special thanks to the entire crew for being the super chill individuals that they are and making the weekend as fun as it was.  Here are a few things to remember from this weekend:

• It IS possible to ride for free even with a large group of riders.

• Skanky trailer trash girls are willing to take their clothes off to see people do seemingly life threatening stunts; just take inventory and make sure that you actually WANT them to do this before you make the suggestion however, it sometimes sounds like a better idea than it actually is.

• If you don't have cables to watch DVDs in your chalet, "borrow" them from another chalet.  On a related note, I am still in possession of said cables, I'm willing to make a trade; show me what you got.

• I think all the ice cubes I've flushed down the toilet have finally started paying off.  I think mother nature loves us now (at least until this weekend, +8 degrees, aye fawk off).

Anyway, I hope it won't be long before I get the chance to shred with this group again, amongst the finest in the East Coast.  I know Carrie is going to Telus and I'm counting down the days until then.  So  until next time, keep your browsers plugged into YouTube, you must might see us jumping off balconies (those skanky girls promised).  Until next time...

Keep Shreddin' the GNAR!
J.

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This past weekend was the Toronto Ski, Snowboard and Travel show. Being a community of snowboarders, I'm sure most people here were at least tempted with the prospect of deals on new gear. The EC crew decided that this would also be a suitable pre-tense for a meet, and since Laura was set to arrive in Canada around the same time, the need to get together and get shi*ttered was compelling. The fact that the 11^th annual SBC party was being held on the same weekend was a happy co-incidence.

The road trip really began for me before I even left Ottawa. I was at my friend Emily's house drinking beers (oh wonderful Heineken) waiting for the red-eye departure time. I made it to the bus terminal happily intoxicated with a camel back full of Sour Puss in tow (give me a break, I needed some booze for the bus trip and it was the only thing I could find in the liquor cabinet that was strong and plentiful). So I met up with JC and we got on the bus en route to the legislative capital (from the national one).

The bus ride in itself was amusing, between sips of Sour Puss, I took the time to flirt with the girl sitting next to me. It must have worked because I remember her falling asleep on me; but you can't take my word for it... I was drunk. Upon our arrival to Toronto, I parted ways with my new friend; slightly embarrassed that I couldn't remember her name so I didn't press it (I wish I'd had an application form handy so I could give her one – see “Why the Fonz Rides a Motorbike”). We got the usual Toronto welcome: Hummers, dog shi*t (I assume dog), and profane transients. What I didn't count on was goth kids sporting gas masks in McDonald's. I'm not sure if those were for fashion or function and frankly I didn't care to stick around and find out.

We later met up with Laura who was stoked about three things since arriving in Canada: squirrels, bagels and Roots stores. This is when I learned that in Australia, to root means to shag. As Laura was educating me on this fact, she added that if you ever see someone posing for a picture in front of a Roots store, ten to one they are Australian.

The ski and snowboard show was relatively uneventful. I did score a steezy Ronin sweater for a deal at the show however; 60% off is none too shabby. We left before the Nitro team showed up but offered to give fifty points to anyone who punched Marc Frank Montoya (Snow PIG champion) in the face; there weren't any takers.

Later that night, I met up with the gang at the SBC party. It was a pain in the ass to get to since the turn from Lakeshore to Cherry was closed, but once there it was good times. We proceeded to drink, dance, watch snowboard videos and dance some more. It was a productive night for me since I figured out how to dance while holding three cans of beer (drinking from all of them) without spilling... much. I got wasted pretty quickly however; since every time I put a beer can down, someone would give me another. I also learned that it's cold behind the bar at the Docks; or so I would be led to believe by the waitress' nipples. I was too drunk to hide the fact that I was ogling but I think she was flattered (ha ha... I'm such a loser).

I had to leave the party a bit early because I was out of money for cab fare and my ride was leaving. Unfortunately I also broke the seal right around the same time so I asked my buddy to pull over in Don Mills so I could pee; I updated the rest of the EC crew via text message.

In the morning I had to fight my way back to the waking and find my way back to the bus depot to get home to Ottawa; I needed to either do some laundry or show up at work naked on Monday (the second option was becoming more and more appealing the more tired I felt). I met up with JC at the bus terminal and we boarded the 2:30 express back to Ottawa. The bus jumped on the Don Valley Parkway (or rather parking lot) so this promised to be a long express trip.

No sooner had we parked on the DVP then Carrie SMS'd me to find out how our bus trip was going. I said “We're stuck on the DVP, Toronto traffic sucks balls.” She told me that I should flirt with more girls on the bus and to fill her in on all the details afterwards. This sounded like a good idea with one notable exception, as I looked around I saw nothing but middle-aged women and I wasn't interested in cougar hunting. Fortunately, a closer examination of the “passenger manifest” showed me that there were a few cute girls on the bus. I told Carrie I'd keep her posted then promptly fell asleep.

A few hours later, we were arriving in Tweed. Having snoozed a good part of the bus ride thus far, I hadn't bothered trying to talk to the cute girls. At this point, the motivation was just not there, so I picked up my phone and wrote the following text message to Carrie: “FYI. I'm in the bathroom with Hillary and Maria. They say hello.” Here was her reply: “Haha! for real! i want details... Oh you're so joining the meter high club aren't you! and a threesome. You are my idol!” This caused tw distinct reactions in me: on the one hand I was flattered that Carrie thought enough of me to be able to pull something like that off; on the other hand, I was slightly disturbed by the fact that she thought I was dirty enough to try it... come on I'm a classy guy (ha!). In the end it became obvious that I was totally making it up since my updates were getting more and more ridiculous (I told her Hillary was going toset me up with her daughter).

Here's what I learned at the Toronto Ski, Snowboard and Travel Show:

• Hummers are lame (OK I knew this already but as a snowboarder, global warming is an important issue to me).

• If someone asks you for root in Australia, take inventory of who's asking and always wear a rain coat.

• Toronto traffic sucks balls.

• I seem to have developed a certain reputation as somewhat of a man whore. While it's flattering to know that people think I can score with any girl I want, it's disturbing that they also think I would have a threesome in a bus restroom with strangers.

The beauty of mayhem is that you'll generally learn something from it. I'm going to take the lessons I've learned from last weekend to heart; for the next little while, you'll find me scouring Roots store fronts for sexy Australian girls, flipping off Hummers and talking to my image consultants about this man-whore thing. So until next time...

Keep Shreddin' the GNAR

J.

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Hey kids! I know some of you have been wondering where old uncle Junior has been off to.  I've been a bit indisposed since I started a new job in mid June, coupled with the fact that I fought with influenza for about two weeks (this was my own version of fight club).  That period wasn't totally devoid of excitement however, there was an SB.com EC meet in there (during my battle with the flu) which was nearly epic.  July is looking to be exciting too; it begins with a downward spiral of debauchery known as Canada day.

The plan for this Canada day was as follows: barbeque at my digs for friends and family, copious amounts of beer and shots, bicycle bladders full of gin and tonic, backpacks full of tall boys and Mongoose topped off with a bus trip downtown in the evening to partake in the festivities.  This is really when armageddon started.  Fortunately, as the title states, you can't have armageddon without a "dd", I would personally like to thank OC Transpo for providing it.

The bus ride downtown was exciting in itself.  My friends and I quickly became the most popular people on the bus when they discovered that we had backpacks full of booze.  So between sips of gin and tonic from the bladder, and raucus renditions of "Oh Canada" (which my brother and I sang in french...the way it was written), we made several friends on the fateful 45 minute ride (and unfortunately a few enemies).  Our favourite friend was easly Busty McBigboobs because she was really friendly in addition to her more tangible qualities.  This would not be our last encounter with Busty and her acolytes.

We got downtown just in time for the fireworks.  Afterward, we fought our way through the crowd to make our way to the Brig on York street; Busty and company in tow.  Fortunately for us, the Brig is our second home so the bouncer let us in without much delay (thanks Dano!).  Unfortunately Busty and co. got discouraged by the crowd and decided to move on to the next bar.  Once inside, we said quick hellos to the staff and proceeded to drink more.  This is when the evening gets hazy.  I remember frollicking in a fountain with dish soap.  Bartering four tall boys of Moosehead for a stack of Beavertails and only vaguely arriving home to the mess from the day's party.  Somehow we ended up with a firehose.  I'm not entirely sure how but when asked "why do you have a firehose?", the standard response was "why don't YOU have a firehose?".  All in all, no one died so a good time was had by all.  That was the 1st day of July.  July 2nd was mostly spent cleaning up the previous day's mess.  If the quality of a party can be measured by how long it takes to clean up the mess afterward, then this was a fantastic party.

<grr, there's supposed to be artwork here but the upload is broken...it will come later>

The next big event for me so far this month came on the 5th, my birthday.  I officially entered my third decade on this planet. It's not that big of a deal to me, but everyone else seems to think so.  I just have one hope, that THE 30's are not a road map to mine (great depressions, Nazis, rise to war).  Only time will tell.  Daily Barns will keep the interested parties updated.  Until next time...

Keep shreddin' the GNAR!
J.


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