Melina I (Pictures)

The international delivery crew representing France (Sebastien, left), South Africa (Nick, right), and Canada (me, center)

On crossing the pacific

“So… you’re going to Korea!? I can’t even keep up with your plans… It’s too bad you won’t be here for christmas. But I’m not really believing you that you will or won’t be here until Christmas day. Seeing as your plans change every other second.”
– my brother Shaun on my plan making, or perhaps lack thereof.

Nevada to Louisiana

So my last relevant post I left you guys with I was stranded without a ride in Salt Lake City. It’s been a few weeks now, and you’re probably all wondering “well jeeze, what’s happened to Craig?”.

Notes on brewing in a bush camp

cooking wort. Photo cred – Lisa King

This summer I spent some fifty days in a tree planting camp near High Level in northern Alberta. Since the logging roads turn to swamp in the summer, everything we needed had to be flown in by helicopter and beer was hard to come by. So, before leaving Edmonton for the two day trip north, I bought two corny kegs, a carboy, CO2 tank, siphon, malt extract, hops, and grain.

— Before you continue, a warning, this post is about brewing and I geek out —

More like Stupid Lake City

Salt Lake Shitty is the other name I’ve been tossing around. This is now my third night staying in Utah’s capital city and my second day spent trying to leave it.

Manifesto

“‘I’ve always wanted to sail to the south seas, but I can’t afford it.’ What these men can’t afford is not to go. They are enmeshed in the cancerous discipline of ‘security.’ And in the worship of security we fling our lives beneath the wheels of routine – and before we know it our lives are gone.

What does a man need – really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter, six feet to lie down in – and some form of working activity that will yield a sense of accomplishment. That’s all – in the material sense. And we know it. But we are brainwashed by our economic system until we end up in a tomb beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, preposterous gadgetry, playthings that divert our attention from the sheer idiocy of the charade. The years thunder by. The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it, the tomb is sealed. Where, then, lies the answer? In choice. Which shall it be: bankruptcy of purse or bankruptcy of life?”

– Sterling Hayden

 

Take Two

When I first decided that I was going to travel around the world, I pictured it as a linear path. I would set out from Vancouver, save money tree planting, get sailing certifications, land a job on a yacht, build up experience in the Caribbean, and then sail across the ocean. Looking at a map its all pretty clear cut – rideshare down the traffic heavy interstates, hitchhike on quieter roads, take a sailing course here, ships start sailing out of San Diego toward the South Pacific in December, apply for a holiday work visa in Australia and so on.

A quick update

July 12th – August 10th, 2013

Calgary Stampede, Calgary AB. Photo cred – Lisa

After spending a few days in Calgary, I met up with a few friends that I’d been planting with in Ontario who’d come West to check out the stampede. We didn’t make it to any of the real cowboy events there, the chuckwagon races or the rodeo – planning and expensive tickets proved to be too much of an obstacle. We spent most our time on the stampede grounds which was a spectacle of corn dogs, cowboy hats, carnival rides, texas hold ‘em, deep fried butter, country music, and overpriced budweisers.

Tree Planting

May 10th – July 1st, 2013

Sapawe, Pakwash, and Wenesaga – Northwest Ontario

2013 Planting Crew (Photo Cred to Lisa: http://www.flickr.com/photos/liselking/)

Most of the the tree planters I know love tree planting, and won’t hesitate to let you know at the slightest sign of interest. Most of the tree planters I know also hate tree planting. They hate the sleet and snow that soaks through their steel toes and rain jackets in the cold weeks of early May. They hate the tendonitis and carpal tunnel that planting in too much hard soil brings about. They hate the relentless swarms of blackflies, the deer flies that come out in the heat of the day and tear out chunks of skin behind their ears, they hate the no-see-ums that crawl through mosquito netting and keep you up at night, they hate the mosquitos that bite through jeans and shirts. They hate the summer heat of late June that drains their bodies of water and energy.

Gone Planting

Photo cred to Maya

“I will never forget the time I took off my boot and threw it into an afternoon so thick with bugs that I could see the tunnel of its trajectory. My feet hurt. My wrists hurt. My skin hurt. Still, I know my grandchildren will see the trees and be glad I did it. I will tell them about the bugs and the bosses and it will sound like the stories of the war my grandfather told me. It was war, another children’s crusade. We did it because we had to, and even though it was hell, it had a kind of peace that was hard to leave behind. Every time.”

— Sasha Rogers (Quoted in Hélène Cyr’s “Handmade Forests: The Treeplanter’s Experience”)

There’s nothing like getting bush mail to feel loved. Write to me during the next two months and I’ll be sure to write back:

Craig Turney
PRT Frontier (Matt Camp) Box 757
Dryden, ON
P8N 2Z4