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megastir
Mega means big or large
stir because I like to mix it up
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Thursday, January 08, 2004 :::
 After a few days of back country snowmobile riding in the frigid Caribou range of south eastern British Columbia, we happened upon a curious band of French Canadian riders who although brave souls with regards to the cold were seriously out of their element in the avalanche prone mountain passes of this region.
After having hailed them our guide asked, “any of you bon hommes speak english?” to which one replies “Oui, I speak Anglais” turns out he was an Outaouais man from that bilingual region of western Quebec that borders this great nations capital.
Much animated discussion between the two ensued. Seems the Quebecoise were for the most part nervous about the surroundings but they were on a mission to ride deep powder on snowboards and document the adventure for a movie their guide and leader was producing. The bulk of their crew being terrified of and ill equipped for avalanches were eager to return from wence they came. But were afraid of their employer’s wrath should they voice their concerns. Their leader having spent much money on equipping the expedition was, as it turns out no more knowledgeable on the finer aspects of backcountry adventure than any of his crew. Ignorance is bliss, but can quickly turn out to be fatal in these parts.
Since strangely enough our crew was on a similar filming mission and such films success often hinges on exclusive footage of epic slopes untouched or unrecorded by other cameramen, a plan was soon hatched by the two that would see to the desires of both.
By this time their destined victim ambled up off his sled. He was a small and dark, but rather delicate looking man for an extreme film producer, with large whiskers and moustache, however; and wore a red down gor-tex vest with MP3 player and other various and expensive consumer electronics at his side.
To this gentleman, Our guide was now politely introduced by the Outaouais-man, who at once ostentatiously put on the aspect of interpreting between them. “What shall I say to him first?” said he. Why, said Our guide, eyeing the gore-tex vest and the MP3 player, you may as well begin by telling him that he looks a sort of dandy to me, though I don't pretend to be a judge.
“He says, Monsieur”, said the Outaouais-man, in French, turning to his leader, “that only yesterday a crew of riders, whose guide and six skiers, had all died in an avalanche caught beneath a blasted chute they had brought down on themselves with their snow machines.” Upon this the Frenchman started, and eagerly desired to know more.
“What now?” said the Outaouais-man to Our guide. “Why, since he takes it so easy, tell him that now I have eyed him carefully, I'm quite certain that he's no more fit to command a Digital camera and snowmobile than a monkey. In fact, tell him from me he's a baboon.”
“Monsieur, he conjures us, as we value our lives, to cut loose from this Pass.” Instantly the French leader ran forward, and in a loud voice commanded his crew to desist from Snowmobiling the trail, and at once cast loose the supplies and equipment and chains confining the gear to the sleds. “What now?” said the Outaouais-man, when the Frenchman had returned to them. “Why, let me see; yes, you may as well tell him now that in fact, tell him That he can go fuck himself”
“He says, Monsieur, that he's very happy to have been of any service to us.” Hearing this, the Frenchman vowed that they were the grateful parties (meaning himself and his crew) and concluded by inviting us to Quebec to eat poutine Pepsi and Jos Louis. “He wants you to take some nourishment with him,” said the interpreter. "Thank him heartily; but tell him it's against my principles to eat with a man I've just swindled. In fact, tell him I must go.”
“He says, Monsieur, that his principles won't admit of his partaking; but that if Monsieur wants to live another day to eat, then Monsieur had best drop all consumer electronics and snowboards, and ride away from this pass, for it is so avalanche prone that any minute we will all be killed.”
By this time the Frenchies had departed with most of their crew already smelling the pea soup that awaited them back at their lodge. We loaded up their gear, and spent the week getting the goods in the particularly light and fluffy snow this region is so famous for.
::: posted by Mega at 6:10 AM
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