When my dad went bankrupt, it occurred to me he might kill himself. I rang, asking with more emphasis, more scrutiny than ever before — So, how are you, Dad? -Oh, I’m not going to off myself or anything. Good to clear that up. He’s lost everything. He grows a scary beard. My dad, the…
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The Army of One does Branding and Social Media Marketing for Writers
Fun to find myself at the Whistler Writers Group gathering tonight, reprising my role as social media cheerleader for nervous wildly creative writers. Here are the notes from tonight’s crash course on branding and social media marketing, using the Whistler Readers and Writers Festival as a case study. Yes, this overview is quick and dirty. But…
Dirt. Rock. Wheels. Flow.
Elements of Perfection: Dirt from Whistler Blackcomb on Vimeo. DIRT An infinite collection of tiny rocks and decomposed plant matter. You clog my lungs and grit my teeth. You scratch my goggles and stain my clothes. But you also stain my soul. So thank you. Thank you for letting me ride all over you. For…
Freeride mountain biking’s game changing moments – The List
Freeriders, Froriders, flowriders, streetriders, stuntriders, shoreriders, trialsiners, slackers, hoppers, droppers, coasters, jumpers: give us any label you feel necessary to separate our baggy-clothes-wearing, untucked-jersey-selves from you, if that is what you feel you must do. We’ll always have camaraderie amongst ourselves, which is all we really need.” Joey Hayes, 180 Magazine, 2003 Oct 21, 1976 The…
Every day is Aussie Day in a ski town
It’s my first time in Revelstoke, and I’m interrogating our guide, who’s been living here for the last 15 years after a stint in Whistler in the mid 90s. Once we’ve played the “do you know?” name-swap game, I ask him about Revy – how many people, what kind of jobs, how many jobs, what…
Happy Hunting, Wolfgang
Four days before Wolfgang Klautt died, peacefully in his easy chair, I sat next to him with my hand in his. He was showing me how to squeeze a trigger. Klautt is the reason Pemberton has a Junior Pistol Club, the Sharpshooters program. This season, his work is carried on by guys like Al McEwan,…
Home-remedies from a viral life and nature-deficit disorder
I meet a colleague who refuses to shake my hand or kiss me hello. She has been body-checked by the dreaded lurgy… falling victim to the massive human petri dish that is the PNE. “But it’s okay, I’m not contagious anymore,” she assures me. My immune response is less assured. In a feverish sleep the next…
What happens when a vegetarian goes to the gunclub
A hippie-minded vegetarian goes to the local gun-club. Sounds like the opening line to a bad joke… or fodder for a limerick… but it was a Boxing Day deadline to write about the Pemberton Wildlife Association‘s shooting range. PWA members Clarke Gatehouse and Al McEwan were a little nervous when a city-bred vegetarian female journalist called…
Summer thoughts turn to summer camps that are ACE
Last year, Angela Ritchie launched her ACE camps and connected with me to write a couple of press releases to spread the word. The first workshop was with Sabrina Ward Harrison in the Baja. The response was incredible. The adventure, outstanding. By the surf breaks of the Pacific Ocean, adventurers were led by the 34…
Actually, poo is very interesting…
Last week, I took a tour of Pemberton’s Waste-water Treatment Plant. I pulled my hazmat suit out of the attic, borrowed a snorkeling mask, and flip-flopped down to Airport Road, braced to discover what really happens after I hit the flushbutton. And I discovered that Pemberton’s shit don’t stink. No bull. In fact, the Waste…
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