For those that were waiting to see it, here it is at last ...
Mar 14, 2010
Daylight Saving
It seems that every couple of years with the change for daylight savings, we get caught out. One of the things about living in Fort McMurray is that I don’t tend to pay much attention to the local media. Let’s face it, it’s pretty much restricted to local radio and for as much as they try hard, I can’t say that I am a fan and so more often than not, you’ll find me listening to a podcast rather than the radio. What it meant this year was that it snuck up on us. Someone said something late Friday to me, but that went in one ear and out the other.
So this morning I woke up, looked at the clock and realized we weren’t going to make 9am mass. I did make the effort though to get up and make sure that the kids were fed in time for the 11am mass instead. Having cooked pancakes, I logged onto the computer for a bit and then, when I though it was about 20 to, called out to Caroline to make sure she would be as ready as the rest of us. On the hour, as she emerged from the lofty heights of the second story, I politely told her that we would be rather late. At which point she asked why, given that it was only 10am. I re-checked my watch and slapped myself for being a goose.
Half an hour later, as I sat down to write here, something clicked in my head and I remembered that brief and vague conversation that I’d had on Friday that had mentioned daylight savings. I checked the internet and sure enough, it wasn’t 10:30 anymore, it was 11:30. We’d missed the mass anyway. Goose squared!
And a brief note: When the sun rises at 4am and it’s still daylight at 11pm at night in high summer, what is the point of daylight savings? It’s not really like you’re running out of the stuff!?
So this morning I woke up, looked at the clock and realized we weren’t going to make 9am mass. I did make the effort though to get up and make sure that the kids were fed in time for the 11am mass instead. Having cooked pancakes, I logged onto the computer for a bit and then, when I though it was about 20 to, called out to Caroline to make sure she would be as ready as the rest of us. On the hour, as she emerged from the lofty heights of the second story, I politely told her that we would be rather late. At which point she asked why, given that it was only 10am. I re-checked my watch and slapped myself for being a goose.
Half an hour later, as I sat down to write here, something clicked in my head and I remembered that brief and vague conversation that I’d had on Friday that had mentioned daylight savings. I checked the internet and sure enough, it wasn’t 10:30 anymore, it was 11:30. We’d missed the mass anyway. Goose squared!
And a brief note: When the sun rises at 4am and it’s still daylight at 11pm at night in high summer, what is the point of daylight savings? It’s not really like you’re running out of the stuff!?
Holiday Pt 3
Yes, it’s taken me a while to finish this off. Work has been somewhat frantic since our return, but I finally pulled my finger out and found some time to finish this off!
After all of the excitement of the shuttle launch, it was almost hard to believe that we were only at the very beginning of our holiday.
The four days that followed were consumed by Disney as we roamed the parks of Walt Disney World. We whipped fairly quickly through the Magic Kingdom as much of it was very similar (if not the same) as Disneyland in California. We had planned to go back to have a look at the bits that we skipped, but by the time that we’d been through Animal Kingdom, Epcot and Disney’s Hollywood Studios we decided that we’d take the time to get back to Fort Lauderdale ahead of the cruise.
Disney was a heap of fun, especially for the kids, but I can’t say that it quite inspires the same words that the shuttle launch did. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it, just that having already been to several theme parks, it wasn’t quite the unique opportunity that the launch was.
We also did some outlet shopping, but any rumour that a couple of shop owners may have managed to pay cash for luxury apartments in the Caribbean following our may be slightly exaggerated.
The truly joyous part of our endeavours in the outlet shops would have to have been the point where the clerk told me that he would have to ring for authorisation on my card. I stood there as they rang the bank, confident that there was plenty of money in the account, even substantially confident that I was in fact, me. After a brief discussion, the clerk handed over the phone so that I could speak to the bank and ensure them that yes, it was me, I was in America and I really did want to proceed with the transaction.
All was good. Then, about 30 seconds after we finished the transaction, my cell phone rang. It was the bank. Was I trying to spend $5,000 at Universal Studios Florida? Given that I hadn’t in fact been anywhere near the place at all and certainly hadn’t managed to break the laws of physics as we know them (at least whilst I was awake) I assured the nice man on the phone that I wasn’t in two places at once and indeed wasn’t trying to spend that money. My card had been compromised. Shit. I took the time to cut it up in the store and then listened as I was told that my new card would be mailed out to me in 7-10 business days. In Canada. That was going to be extremely useful seeing that in 7-10 days I would be in the middle of the Caribbean. Fortunately, it was only my card number that was compromised and there was no need to cancel Caroline’s. I t just meant that any time I wanted to spend any money, I would have tobeg ask her nicely. Huzzah!
After the fun of the launch, the shopping and the theme parks, we drove back to Fort Lauderdale where we had a one night stop over before we were due to get on the ship for our cruise. We went for a drive to the Everglades so that we could see a different sort of landscape and quite possibly a ‘gator or two.
We were almost to the turnoff to our destination when I glanced at the fuel gauge and realized that there was a reasonable chance that we simply weren’t going to make it to where we needed to go and that we were quickly approaching a point where we also wouldn’t be able to make it back to our point of origin either. The road was an arrow straight highway cutting across the everglades and in my naivety, I expected there to be interchanges somewhere with gas stations. Apparently not. We cut our losses and turnaround around, heading back to the first point that we saw a gas station and filling the van whilst grabbing some lunch. We were very excited to see a bakery, right up until the point where we went inside and didn’t really recongnise anything. Caroline and I had the Mexican equivalent of a pie but the kids were pretty much out of luck, with not one of them liking what we’d bought them.
Anyway, refueled and slightly less hungry, we stopped at a ‘quaint’ little tourist place where we could go for an airboat ride which was kind of fun, but of course it’s not until you’ve paid your money and are halfway through the ride that they tell you that the weather’s too cold and so you’re not likely to see any ‘gators. Given that they’re cold blooded and that it was in fact cool and windy, we’d expected this and wanted the airboat ride anyway, but I bet there were a few people there who wouldn’t have bothered handing cash over if they’d known. Of course, on the up side, they did have a little collection of animals that were being rehabilitated and so we saw some captive ‘gators and even managed to hold a baby one, which Emily was very very excited about.
After that, we headed out to the original place that we’d been going to go to so that Caroline could try some ‘gator nuggets. Once we’d turned off the highway and made our way toward the reservation upon which the next tourist place was built, we managed to see some ‘gators. The sun had come out and so in the reeds next to the canals, there were a number of them sunning themselves to spread some warmth through their bodies. They didn’t do anything other than lie there (which is apparently a significant part of their lifestyle) but it was great to get to see them outside of a pen.
After that, it was back to the hotel for some dinner and our final land-lubber’s sleep before the cruise.
The following afternoon it was indeed time at last to get ourselves off the land and onto the ship. Full of beans and excitement, we went through the embarkation process, grabbed some champagne and clambered aboard the Celebrity Solstice.
I have to say that our first impressions were good. The ship was beautifully decked out and for me in particular, a far far cry from the conditions in which I used to live whilst working off-shore.
Having made it through life-boat drills and found our cabins, we explored the ship, being sure to make it in quick time to the kids programs to try and off-load the extras, but unfortunately they weren’t that keen and really wanted to stay with us. That was fine for the start and we were sure that we’d off-load them the following day.
What can be said about the cruise? It wouldn’t be fair on anyone to go into a blow-by- blow account, so I am not about to do that. Let’s just say that it was quite simply a bloody fantastic holiday.
The food was great and there was always something to do if you were prepared to go look for it (and you didn’t have to look hard). From going to the gym and watching the ocean drift past as you ran, to swimming in the pool, or simply holding up one side of a bar, it was just wonderfully relaxing.
Our first stop was in San Juan, Puerto Rico where we took a great bus tour around the island before browsing through some of the shops. We were interested to realise that San Juan is a commonwealth of the United States and it had an interesting history that one could barely begin to appreciate in the time that we had there.
The second stop was St Maarten, where we pursued the shopping a little harder as it was truly duty and tax free. We dipped ourselves in the ocean (hard not to when the water is so gloriously warm and the sun is streaming down on you from above) and having more time in St Maarten than we’d had in San Juan, went back to the ship for lunch and to drop off the two older boys who weren’t quite as interested in seeing anymore of the island than they already had.
Caroline, Thomas, Emily and I returned to the Island and jumped into a taxi so that we could find another beach and see a little more. Caroline thoroughly enjoyed the taxi ride, mainly because she had the chance to speak Dutch to the driver. Whilst Caroline looked into hiring flippers and snorkels for the four of us, I noticed that happy hour and the adjacent bar was nearly over (it only ran from 11am to 4pm!) and so took my chance to pick up a beer (can’t say no when it’s a whole dollar, even if it is American). We then attempted to get out to the reef that was just off-shore, but it proved too difficult for Emily and so she and I went in and played in the shallows whilst Thomas and Caroline eyed off the fish. It was sadly a little choppy, but they did get to spend some time out there.
The third stop was Tortola, of the British Virgin Isles and again, we took a tour of the place, though because there was six of us, we ended up in a taxi rather than one of the tour buses. Whilst it might have been air-conditioned and we didn’t have to wait for other people, our driver sadly lacked the personality and joi de vivre that you would expect from an actual tour operator. At least we got to see the place. We went swimming at Cane Garden Bay, a gorgeous little spot even with all the tourists (hard to avoid when you land a ship with 3200 people on it) and again simply enjoyed the fact that we were dressing lightly, swimming in the ocean and bathing in the sun!
The final stop for the cruise (prior to disembarkation of course) was Haiti. The cruise line made much of the fact that they were stopping there so soon after the earthquake that had devastated the island. In essence, they said that they had liaised with the government prior to doing so and the fact that they brought supplies, as well as tourists who would actually spend money and support the local population meant that continuing to visit was the right thing to do. For me it meant the chance to try out the Dragon’s Breath Zip line, the world’s longest zip line.
Unfortunately it meant lots of waiting for the rest of the family and Caroline had to juggle getting Emily’s hair braided and trying to see when I’d actually come down the line. The weather closed in on our way up the hill and by the time I was off, it was raining, but it was still a very cool thing to have managed to do.
Before that we’d taken a snorkeling tour out to the reef and as we arrived there, I was not quite so thrilled to have them tell us how there wouldn’t be many fish due to the fact that the locals had been living off fish for hundreds of years (or more). There’s nothing quite like paying your money and then finding out that there isn’t going to be a lot to look at. We still saw some cool things, but it wasn’t teeming with life the way the reef in Jamaica had been the year before.
As our last stop on the tour, Labadee was a bit of a disappointment. The stopping point is owned by the cruiseline and as such, didn’t have the flavour of the other stops where you actually managed to get into the local town (even if that was a tourist haven) and take off in any direction you wanted. Basically it seemed a bit sterile. It was still better than working though!
After all of the excitement of the shuttle launch, it was almost hard to believe that we were only at the very beginning of our holiday.
The four days that followed were consumed by Disney as we roamed the parks of Walt Disney World. We whipped fairly quickly through the Magic Kingdom as much of it was very similar (if not the same) as Disneyland in California. We had planned to go back to have a look at the bits that we skipped, but by the time that we’d been through Animal Kingdom, Epcot and Disney’s Hollywood Studios we decided that we’d take the time to get back to Fort Lauderdale ahead of the cruise.
Disney was a heap of fun, especially for the kids, but I can’t say that it quite inspires the same words that the shuttle launch did. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it, just that having already been to several theme parks, it wasn’t quite the unique opportunity that the launch was.
We also did some outlet shopping, but any rumour that a couple of shop owners may have managed to pay cash for luxury apartments in the Caribbean following our may be slightly exaggerated.
The truly joyous part of our endeavours in the outlet shops would have to have been the point where the clerk told me that he would have to ring for authorisation on my card. I stood there as they rang the bank, confident that there was plenty of money in the account, even substantially confident that I was in fact, me. After a brief discussion, the clerk handed over the phone so that I could speak to the bank and ensure them that yes, it was me, I was in America and I really did want to proceed with the transaction.
All was good. Then, about 30 seconds after we finished the transaction, my cell phone rang. It was the bank. Was I trying to spend $5,000 at Universal Studios Florida? Given that I hadn’t in fact been anywhere near the place at all and certainly hadn’t managed to break the laws of physics as we know them (at least whilst I was awake) I assured the nice man on the phone that I wasn’t in two places at once and indeed wasn’t trying to spend that money. My card had been compromised. Shit. I took the time to cut it up in the store and then listened as I was told that my new card would be mailed out to me in 7-10 business days. In Canada. That was going to be extremely useful seeing that in 7-10 days I would be in the middle of the Caribbean. Fortunately, it was only my card number that was compromised and there was no need to cancel Caroline’s. I t just meant that any time I wanted to spend any money, I would have to
After the fun of the launch, the shopping and the theme parks, we drove back to Fort Lauderdale where we had a one night stop over before we were due to get on the ship for our cruise. We went for a drive to the Everglades so that we could see a different sort of landscape and quite possibly a ‘gator or two.
We were almost to the turnoff to our destination when I glanced at the fuel gauge and realized that there was a reasonable chance that we simply weren’t going to make it to where we needed to go and that we were quickly approaching a point where we also wouldn’t be able to make it back to our point of origin either. The road was an arrow straight highway cutting across the everglades and in my naivety, I expected there to be interchanges somewhere with gas stations. Apparently not. We cut our losses and turnaround around, heading back to the first point that we saw a gas station and filling the van whilst grabbing some lunch. We were very excited to see a bakery, right up until the point where we went inside and didn’t really recongnise anything. Caroline and I had the Mexican equivalent of a pie but the kids were pretty much out of luck, with not one of them liking what we’d bought them.
Anyway, refueled and slightly less hungry, we stopped at a ‘quaint’ little tourist place where we could go for an airboat ride which was kind of fun, but of course it’s not until you’ve paid your money and are halfway through the ride that they tell you that the weather’s too cold and so you’re not likely to see any ‘gators. Given that they’re cold blooded and that it was in fact cool and windy, we’d expected this and wanted the airboat ride anyway, but I bet there were a few people there who wouldn’t have bothered handing cash over if they’d known. Of course, on the up side, they did have a little collection of animals that were being rehabilitated and so we saw some captive ‘gators and even managed to hold a baby one, which Emily was very very excited about.
After that, we headed out to the original place that we’d been going to go to so that Caroline could try some ‘gator nuggets. Once we’d turned off the highway and made our way toward the reservation upon which the next tourist place was built, we managed to see some ‘gators. The sun had come out and so in the reeds next to the canals, there were a number of them sunning themselves to spread some warmth through their bodies. They didn’t do anything other than lie there (which is apparently a significant part of their lifestyle) but it was great to get to see them outside of a pen.
After that, it was back to the hotel for some dinner and our final land-lubber’s sleep before the cruise.
The following afternoon it was indeed time at last to get ourselves off the land and onto the ship. Full of beans and excitement, we went through the embarkation process, grabbed some champagne and clambered aboard the Celebrity Solstice.
I have to say that our first impressions were good. The ship was beautifully decked out and for me in particular, a far far cry from the conditions in which I used to live whilst working off-shore.
Having made it through life-boat drills and found our cabins, we explored the ship, being sure to make it in quick time to the kids programs to try and off-load the extras, but unfortunately they weren’t that keen and really wanted to stay with us. That was fine for the start and we were sure that we’d off-load them the following day.
What can be said about the cruise? It wouldn’t be fair on anyone to go into a blow-by- blow account, so I am not about to do that. Let’s just say that it was quite simply a bloody fantastic holiday.
The food was great and there was always something to do if you were prepared to go look for it (and you didn’t have to look hard). From going to the gym and watching the ocean drift past as you ran, to swimming in the pool, or simply holding up one side of a bar, it was just wonderfully relaxing.
Our first stop was in San Juan, Puerto Rico where we took a great bus tour around the island before browsing through some of the shops. We were interested to realise that San Juan is a commonwealth of the United States and it had an interesting history that one could barely begin to appreciate in the time that we had there.
The second stop was St Maarten, where we pursued the shopping a little harder as it was truly duty and tax free. We dipped ourselves in the ocean (hard not to when the water is so gloriously warm and the sun is streaming down on you from above) and having more time in St Maarten than we’d had in San Juan, went back to the ship for lunch and to drop off the two older boys who weren’t quite as interested in seeing anymore of the island than they already had.
Caroline, Thomas, Emily and I returned to the Island and jumped into a taxi so that we could find another beach and see a little more. Caroline thoroughly enjoyed the taxi ride, mainly because she had the chance to speak Dutch to the driver. Whilst Caroline looked into hiring flippers and snorkels for the four of us, I noticed that happy hour and the adjacent bar was nearly over (it only ran from 11am to 4pm!) and so took my chance to pick up a beer (can’t say no when it’s a whole dollar, even if it is American). We then attempted to get out to the reef that was just off-shore, but it proved too difficult for Emily and so she and I went in and played in the shallows whilst Thomas and Caroline eyed off the fish. It was sadly a little choppy, but they did get to spend some time out there.
The third stop was Tortola, of the British Virgin Isles and again, we took a tour of the place, though because there was six of us, we ended up in a taxi rather than one of the tour buses. Whilst it might have been air-conditioned and we didn’t have to wait for other people, our driver sadly lacked the personality and joi de vivre that you would expect from an actual tour operator. At least we got to see the place. We went swimming at Cane Garden Bay, a gorgeous little spot even with all the tourists (hard to avoid when you land a ship with 3200 people on it) and again simply enjoyed the fact that we were dressing lightly, swimming in the ocean and bathing in the sun!
The final stop for the cruise (prior to disembarkation of course) was Haiti. The cruise line made much of the fact that they were stopping there so soon after the earthquake that had devastated the island. In essence, they said that they had liaised with the government prior to doing so and the fact that they brought supplies, as well as tourists who would actually spend money and support the local population meant that continuing to visit was the right thing to do. For me it meant the chance to try out the Dragon’s Breath Zip line, the world’s longest zip line.
Unfortunately it meant lots of waiting for the rest of the family and Caroline had to juggle getting Emily’s hair braided and trying to see when I’d actually come down the line. The weather closed in on our way up the hill and by the time I was off, it was raining, but it was still a very cool thing to have managed to do.
Before that we’d taken a snorkeling tour out to the reef and as we arrived there, I was not quite so thrilled to have them tell us how there wouldn’t be many fish due to the fact that the locals had been living off fish for hundreds of years (or more). There’s nothing quite like paying your money and then finding out that there isn’t going to be a lot to look at. We still saw some cool things, but it wasn’t teeming with life the way the reef in Jamaica had been the year before.
As our last stop on the tour, Labadee was a bit of a disappointment. The stopping point is owned by the cruiseline and as such, didn’t have the flavour of the other stops where you actually managed to get into the local town (even if that was a tourist haven) and take off in any direction you wanted. Basically it seemed a bit sterile. It was still better than working though!
Feb 10, 2010
Holiday Pt 2 – The Launch
Having barely survived the sleep deprivation and all that lead up to the scrubbing of the first shuttle launch, we stoically decided that we would indeed back it up with yet another night of sleepless insanity and return to the Kennedy Space Centre for the re-scheduled launch of STS-130.
We slept for most of the morning and went Outlet shopping for the afternoon, grabbed a quick dinner and then headed back to the bus stop to get picked up for a return to the KSC. Being the second day and with only 24 hours notice that the event was on seemed to significantly change the number of people that were able to attend. It was also Sunday night rather than Saturday which may have deterred a few locals who had to work.
Whatever it was, it made things better for us as we were through the gate quickly, spent more time in the Space Centre and didn’t have to line up for 2kms to get back on the buses when the time came to move over to the causeway. For some reason we still spent a bucket of time in the bus waiting (I think they held them all until the shuttle had been fueled) and because the bus driver we had on the second day was complete crap compared to the first day, despite the reduced numbers, we ended up on exactly the same piece of real estate. This time however, we were much better prepared for the cold, double panted and extra-womble like layered to repel the chill wind. We'd even stopped to buy a couple of beanies!
And there we waited, counting the hours, then the minutes until the launch was due, again watching the clouds overhead, hoping against hope that we would be more fortunate.
The reduced numbers gave us some time to move around a little and the wind wasn’t quite as fierce, so the cold was slightly more bearable. Thomas and I wandered down to the launch clock that you see if you ever watch one of these things on the web and the T-20 hold came and went.
There were whispers of 60% chance of launch, dropping to 40% at some point, climbing again … all designed surely to keep us nervous with anticipation. The T-9 hold came (a 30 minute hold in itself) and we continued to count the minutes, watching them creep by, waiting whilst the kids slept. Then a cheer went up, we had moved past the T-9 hold, things were happening, it looked like it would be a go (but we held our breath because our tour operator from the day before had told us of a time when a launch had been scrubbed with 2 minutes on the clock). The real no turning back point is at 30 seconds.
We woke the kids up, shaking and talking and shaking until we knew they were awake enough not to succumb to sleepy bo-bos at the critical moment and then waited just a little bit longer.
Then we heard it, “Go for Launch!” 10 seconds … the free hydrogen burnoff … 9 seconds … 8 … 7 … 6.6 seconds … Main Engines Start … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 …0! Ignition! Hold down release and launch!
The first thing that we could see (being some 5 miles or so from the launch pad) was a burst of fire down near the base of the pad. Then the night sky is lit up until it is the colour of a beautiful orange summer sunset, almost as bright as day light.
The tail of flame shoots skyward propelling the shuttle into the heavens. You can’t see it for the intensity of the light, but you know it’s there with its crew strapped in and flying. 20 seconds or so after the launch, as the shuttle shoots upward, the wall of sound catches up, the deep base rumble washing over you, literally rippling the water, stirring up the ‘gators and giving you yet another sense of the power and wonder that is unfolding before your eyes.
As the shuttle climbs, the intensity of the light fades and the shuttle tilts over and rolls ready for separation of the boosters.
There’s cheers from the crowd as it is announced that separation has been achieved, memories of Challenger vivid amongst the launch community, everyone hoping that they never see anything of its like again.
It continues to fade until the night sky has resumed its dominance over the intruder which disappears toward the darker sky of space, its light now white, like an overly bright star before it winks out, only 3 and a half minutes from that moment when ignition began.
The words really don’t do it justice, nor do the pictures. It truly was a once in a lifetime, awe-inspiring spectacle that I count myself incredibly fortunate to have witnessed it.
We slept for most of the morning and went Outlet shopping for the afternoon, grabbed a quick dinner and then headed back to the bus stop to get picked up for a return to the KSC. Being the second day and with only 24 hours notice that the event was on seemed to significantly change the number of people that were able to attend. It was also Sunday night rather than Saturday which may have deterred a few locals who had to work.
Whatever it was, it made things better for us as we were through the gate quickly, spent more time in the Space Centre and didn’t have to line up for 2kms to get back on the buses when the time came to move over to the causeway. For some reason we still spent a bucket of time in the bus waiting (I think they held them all until the shuttle had been fueled) and because the bus driver we had on the second day was complete crap compared to the first day, despite the reduced numbers, we ended up on exactly the same piece of real estate. This time however, we were much better prepared for the cold, double panted and extra-womble like layered to repel the chill wind. We'd even stopped to buy a couple of beanies!
And there we waited, counting the hours, then the minutes until the launch was due, again watching the clouds overhead, hoping against hope that we would be more fortunate.
The reduced numbers gave us some time to move around a little and the wind wasn’t quite as fierce, so the cold was slightly more bearable. Thomas and I wandered down to the launch clock that you see if you ever watch one of these things on the web and the T-20 hold came and went.
There were whispers of 60% chance of launch, dropping to 40% at some point, climbing again … all designed surely to keep us nervous with anticipation. The T-9 hold came (a 30 minute hold in itself) and we continued to count the minutes, watching them creep by, waiting whilst the kids slept. Then a cheer went up, we had moved past the T-9 hold, things were happening, it looked like it would be a go (but we held our breath because our tour operator from the day before had told us of a time when a launch had been scrubbed with 2 minutes on the clock). The real no turning back point is at 30 seconds.
We woke the kids up, shaking and talking and shaking until we knew they were awake enough not to succumb to sleepy bo-bos at the critical moment and then waited just a little bit longer.
Then we heard it, “Go for Launch!” 10 seconds … the free hydrogen burnoff … 9 seconds … 8 … 7 … 6.6 seconds … Main Engines Start … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 …0! Ignition! Hold down release and launch!
The first thing that we could see (being some 5 miles or so from the launch pad) was a burst of fire down near the base of the pad. Then the night sky is lit up until it is the colour of a beautiful orange summer sunset, almost as bright as day light.
The tail of flame shoots skyward propelling the shuttle into the heavens. You can’t see it for the intensity of the light, but you know it’s there with its crew strapped in and flying. 20 seconds or so after the launch, as the shuttle shoots upward, the wall of sound catches up, the deep base rumble washing over you, literally rippling the water, stirring up the ‘gators and giving you yet another sense of the power and wonder that is unfolding before your eyes.
As the shuttle climbs, the intensity of the light fades and the shuttle tilts over and rolls ready for separation of the boosters.
There’s cheers from the crowd as it is announced that separation has been achieved, memories of Challenger vivid amongst the launch community, everyone hoping that they never see anything of its like again.
It continues to fade until the night sky has resumed its dominance over the intruder which disappears toward the darker sky of space, its light now white, like an overly bright star before it winks out, only 3 and a half minutes from that moment when ignition began.
The words really don’t do it justice, nor do the pictures. It truly was a once in a lifetime, awe-inspiring spectacle that I count myself incredibly fortunate to have witnessed it.
Feb 9, 2010
Holiday Pt 1 - Emily the Unsleeping and Thunderbirds aren't Go.
In addition to being the day before we set off on our Search for the Sun, Friday the 5th was Caroline’s birthday. Knowing that our departure was scheduled for the not so kid friendly time of 12:40am on the 6ht, 6th, the plan was to go out for birthday dinner and then put the kids to bed for a quick nap before heading to the airport.
We enjoyed a lovely dinner at the Keg with Bob and Nancy and the girls and then went home with the kids’ excitement levels being tweaked up a notch with the reducing time until our scheduled departure. We cleaned house, booked a taxi and tried to get four children to go to sleep. Emily simply wouldn’t. Thomas was trooper and the first one to the land of sleepy bo-bos and even Michael and Sam went to sleep. But Emily was a right little bugger and only fell asleep about an hour before we intended to leave for the airport.
At the scheduled time we peered out the front window waiting for the taxi, but 10 minutes after it was due to arrive, there was no sign of it. Caroline called the taxi company and they said that they’d send another one as quickly as they could.
I started waking the kids up, which was an effort and a half. Talk about out to the world. You seriously have to wonder about the effectiveness of a smoke alarm with kids when you’re in their room all but yelling over the alarm that’s going off and still not being very successful. Sam has taken to sleeping with one quilt under him and another over the top and as I woke him up, he started pulling the top one back over the top of him. I dragged it off him, only to have him sleepily start to drag the ‘under-quit’ up over him instead. I had to drag that off him as well and it wasn’t really until I started to bodily pull him from the actual bed that I started to get any sort of responsiveness that one could relate to being awake.
A short time later, with still no sign of any taxis I started to stuff our luggage into our car. The taxi showed up as I was working on bag #3 and so we quickly transferred it, stress levels rising as we attempted to get everything we’d packed, plus the 6 of us into the minivan cab. We made it without anyone losing any limbs and arrived at the airport in plenty of time to catch our flight.
Of course the next issue was the fact that there’s an in-flight entertainment system, kids that have had just enough sleep to boost them and desperately tired parents (and kids, even if they won’t admit to it). The first flight was about 4 hours in duration and despite threats, bribes and every other trick in my arsenal, Emily simply would not sleep. Knowing that at the end of the flight we’d only have 3 or so hours in the Toronto airport before another 3 or so hour flight down to Miami and that at the end of that flight, I had a 4 hour drive to look forward to, I wasn’t really coping very well.
Emily spent almost the entire flight awake, of course only really nodding off at the end so that I had to practically carry her sleep-walking style, up the aerobridge and into the terminal.
By the time that we’d collected our luggage prior to customs, Emily was of course falling asleep every 3 steps and any time we paused, she’d simply drop where she stood and attempt to sleep.
For the second flight, she sat next to Caroline and I managed to get enough sleep to survive the drive to Orlando without incident. Finally we were at our hotel.
Now if only that were the end of the bone wearying itinerary, it would have been ok. As we’d left Miami for Orlando, we’d stopped to do some shopping, picking up some blankets, chairs and food because a mere hour or so after we arrived in Orlando, we were due to be picked up and taken to the Kennedy Space Centre.
Yes, there was a shuttle launch scheduled and we decided that it was too good an opportunity to pass up. We made it to the space centre and arrived to the strains of our guide Milton telling us that not only was this the last ever scheduled night launch for the shuttle, but that he’d never seen so many people ever show up for a launch. It was packed. As a consequence, by the time we managed to get in the gate and take a quick turn at the launch simulator, it was basically time to line up to get back on the bus to go to the causeway where we’d be watching from. After carrying the chairs and blankets around all night, it was good to get some respite, when we finally made it onto the bus, about an hour after we had originally been scheduled to. We’d started the evening with something like an 80% chance of launch, but by the time that we were on the bus, it was down to about 60%.
Out at the causeway, we managed to snag our own piece of real estate, one row back from the rope and with a view of the little speck of illumination that was the shuttle on the launch pad.
(Click on the pic to Enlarge)
We snuggled up as warm as we could manage, the wind working hard to chill us to the bone (because we came to Florida for the sun of course) and us with an eye to the sky as the early morning started quite clear, but gradually clouded over.
Clouds would drift in and drift out, but the chance of launch was being continually cut. When it was down to 30%, I still had a confident feeling that things would work out for us. The clock continued to count down, we continued to freeze. We made it all the way down to the T-9 minute hold without any mechanical incident to halt proceedings and sat with our fingers crossed.
We took a few pictures, feeling somewhat camera-inadequate as we stood amongst thousands upon thousands of enthusiasts with camera equipment worth the price of a small third world nation and between the distance, lack of a tripod and the limitations of our camera, did the best that we could:
(Click on the pic to Enlarge)
And then came the words we’d feared. The launch had been scrubbed. The cloud cover was too low and quite simply, the shuttle wasn’t going to fly. So at 4:30am after travelling since 12:40am the previous day, we packed our weary kids and bodies back into the bus, faced with the question … if it was only delayed 24 hours, would we stuff our hands back in our pockets and drag ourselves out there again?
We enjoyed a lovely dinner at the Keg with Bob and Nancy and the girls and then went home with the kids’ excitement levels being tweaked up a notch with the reducing time until our scheduled departure. We cleaned house, booked a taxi and tried to get four children to go to sleep. Emily simply wouldn’t. Thomas was trooper and the first one to the land of sleepy bo-bos and even Michael and Sam went to sleep. But Emily was a right little bugger and only fell asleep about an hour before we intended to leave for the airport.
At the scheduled time we peered out the front window waiting for the taxi, but 10 minutes after it was due to arrive, there was no sign of it. Caroline called the taxi company and they said that they’d send another one as quickly as they could.
I started waking the kids up, which was an effort and a half. Talk about out to the world. You seriously have to wonder about the effectiveness of a smoke alarm with kids when you’re in their room all but yelling over the alarm that’s going off and still not being very successful. Sam has taken to sleeping with one quilt under him and another over the top and as I woke him up, he started pulling the top one back over the top of him. I dragged it off him, only to have him sleepily start to drag the ‘under-quit’ up over him instead. I had to drag that off him as well and it wasn’t really until I started to bodily pull him from the actual bed that I started to get any sort of responsiveness that one could relate to being awake.
A short time later, with still no sign of any taxis I started to stuff our luggage into our car. The taxi showed up as I was working on bag #3 and so we quickly transferred it, stress levels rising as we attempted to get everything we’d packed, plus the 6 of us into the minivan cab. We made it without anyone losing any limbs and arrived at the airport in plenty of time to catch our flight.
Of course the next issue was the fact that there’s an in-flight entertainment system, kids that have had just enough sleep to boost them and desperately tired parents (and kids, even if they won’t admit to it). The first flight was about 4 hours in duration and despite threats, bribes and every other trick in my arsenal, Emily simply would not sleep. Knowing that at the end of the flight we’d only have 3 or so hours in the Toronto airport before another 3 or so hour flight down to Miami and that at the end of that flight, I had a 4 hour drive to look forward to, I wasn’t really coping very well.
Emily spent almost the entire flight awake, of course only really nodding off at the end so that I had to practically carry her sleep-walking style, up the aerobridge and into the terminal.
By the time that we’d collected our luggage prior to customs, Emily was of course falling asleep every 3 steps and any time we paused, she’d simply drop where she stood and attempt to sleep.
For the second flight, she sat next to Caroline and I managed to get enough sleep to survive the drive to Orlando without incident. Finally we were at our hotel.
Now if only that were the end of the bone wearying itinerary, it would have been ok. As we’d left Miami for Orlando, we’d stopped to do some shopping, picking up some blankets, chairs and food because a mere hour or so after we arrived in Orlando, we were due to be picked up and taken to the Kennedy Space Centre.
Yes, there was a shuttle launch scheduled and we decided that it was too good an opportunity to pass up. We made it to the space centre and arrived to the strains of our guide Milton telling us that not only was this the last ever scheduled night launch for the shuttle, but that he’d never seen so many people ever show up for a launch. It was packed. As a consequence, by the time we managed to get in the gate and take a quick turn at the launch simulator, it was basically time to line up to get back on the bus to go to the causeway where we’d be watching from. After carrying the chairs and blankets around all night, it was good to get some respite, when we finally made it onto the bus, about an hour after we had originally been scheduled to. We’d started the evening with something like an 80% chance of launch, but by the time that we were on the bus, it was down to about 60%.
Out at the causeway, we managed to snag our own piece of real estate, one row back from the rope and with a view of the little speck of illumination that was the shuttle on the launch pad.
(Click on the pic to Enlarge)
We snuggled up as warm as we could manage, the wind working hard to chill us to the bone (because we came to Florida for the sun of course) and us with an eye to the sky as the early morning started quite clear, but gradually clouded over.
Clouds would drift in and drift out, but the chance of launch was being continually cut. When it was down to 30%, I still had a confident feeling that things would work out for us. The clock continued to count down, we continued to freeze. We made it all the way down to the T-9 minute hold without any mechanical incident to halt proceedings and sat with our fingers crossed.
We took a few pictures, feeling somewhat camera-inadequate as we stood amongst thousands upon thousands of enthusiasts with camera equipment worth the price of a small third world nation and between the distance, lack of a tripod and the limitations of our camera, did the best that we could:
(Click on the pic to Enlarge)
And then came the words we’d feared. The launch had been scrubbed. The cloud cover was too low and quite simply, the shuttle wasn’t going to fly. So at 4:30am after travelling since 12:40am the previous day, we packed our weary kids and bodies back into the bus, faced with the question … if it was only delayed 24 hours, would we stuff our hands back in our pockets and drag ourselves out there again?
Jan 28, 2010
Repatriation ...
I was about to step out onto the soccer pitch to referee last night (worthy of a post all of its own) when my phone rang. I checked the number and was surprised to see that the number started with 613 … that meant Australia.
Apparently the company is bidding some work and that in turn meant that there was a potential opportunity for me as our time over here starts to come to a close and we look for repatriation opportunities.
That certainly threw the mind into turmoil. After all, it would have put us back on Aussie terra firma, but it wasn’t going to be as close to home (Adelaide) as we would have liked. Added to that the requirement to provide an answer as to whether I was interested in the opportunity within 24 hours (hey, at least it wasn’t immediate!). Our ultimate aim is of course, to return to hour home soil in Adelaide, which to some extent means it was easy to say no, but was complicated by the fact that we really haven’t begun to explore our repatriation opportunities. It meant that there was no source of comparison … was this a good opportunity? It may well have been. Will there be something better closer to the time that we are actually coming home? Maybe, but we can’t be certain. It was enough to keep my mind burning until 3am.
If nothing else, it is certainly nice to know that we haven’t been forgotten on the other side of the world.
Apparently the company is bidding some work and that in turn meant that there was a potential opportunity for me as our time over here starts to come to a close and we look for repatriation opportunities.
That certainly threw the mind into turmoil. After all, it would have put us back on Aussie terra firma, but it wasn’t going to be as close to home (Adelaide) as we would have liked. Added to that the requirement to provide an answer as to whether I was interested in the opportunity within 24 hours (hey, at least it wasn’t immediate!). Our ultimate aim is of course, to return to hour home soil in Adelaide, which to some extent means it was easy to say no, but was complicated by the fact that we really haven’t begun to explore our repatriation opportunities. It meant that there was no source of comparison … was this a good opportunity? It may well have been. Will there be something better closer to the time that we are actually coming home? Maybe, but we can’t be certain. It was enough to keep my mind burning until 3am.
If nothing else, it is certainly nice to know that we haven’t been forgotten on the other side of the world.
Jan 14, 2010
Hair raising
If you’ve seen any of our family photos recently, you’ve probably noticed that Michael has opted not to have his hair cut for awhile. Well that’s not entirely true, he did have a hair cut not that long ago, it just wasn’t really one worth speaking of.
I am of course torn. There’s that bit of me that says if the worst thing he ever does to rebel is to leave his hair long, I’ll be very lucky. But there’s that other bit of me. The bit that would desperately enjoy sneaking into his bedroom late at night with a pair of scissors ... and going to town!
It has actually reached the point in time when even the kids in his soccer team are saying that he needs a hair cut, but pushing isn’t going to work. I think its simply a game of patience. Half his problem is that he doesn’t really know how short he wants it!
Maybe I can get him involved in a shave for a cure type thing ... or at least tell him that’s what its for ...
Let the games begin.
I am of course torn. There’s that bit of me that says if the worst thing he ever does to rebel is to leave his hair long, I’ll be very lucky. But there’s that other bit of me. The bit that would desperately enjoy sneaking into his bedroom late at night with a pair of scissors ... and going to town!
It has actually reached the point in time when even the kids in his soccer team are saying that he needs a hair cut, but pushing isn’t going to work. I think its simply a game of patience. Half his problem is that he doesn’t really know how short he wants it!
Maybe I can get him involved in a shave for a cure type thing ... or at least tell him that’s what its for ...
Let the games begin.
Jan 4, 2010
Holidays with the Griswalds Tembys
We have survived our Christmas/New Year break, complete with skiing trip to Kicking Horse and whilst it went off without significant incident, there were of course a couple of minor adventures along the way.
Things started very well for us, having successfully hosted Christmas lunch for the 3rd year running. This year our guests were the Handicotts and Gauthier’s along with their parents and we had a fabulous lunch that stretched through to dinner and a bit of pool before ending relatively early. We took the opportunity to pack for our ski trip and planned for an early get away on Boxing day as we were to drive all the way to Banff, a leisurely drive of some 840kms.
Against all departure traditions, we actually managed to cram into the well packed car and head off relatively on time and with a single stop for food and petrol around Edmonton, managed to complete the exercise in about 9 and a half hours with no flat tires, no vomit nor any other unforeseen adventures. Whew!
We bunked down for the night in Banff and then headed on to Lake Louise so that we could ski there as a family (for the first time since our very first Canadian Skiing experience way back in Novmber of ’07). Caroline and I had given each other new skis for Christmas, so we were very keen to get up the mountain and explore. We had a great day skiing, balancing Michael’s complaints that everything was too easy and that he only wanted to do a double black diamond, with Emily’s terror of any icy patches and my reluctance to push myself too far beyond the nice flat spots that I enjoy so much. (I don’t mind a black run, but really dislike a bumpy run).
In the end, we covered a fair bit of the mountain and as legs grew tired and children less willing late in the day, I sent Caroline and Michael off to explore some less sane areas of the mountain and I took Emily, Thomas and Sam on some friendly parts. We finished up for the day and went to Lake Louise where we had a room booked for the night (no, not at that hotel). We did stop by there though to check out a bit of ice carving before heading back to our nearby (much less luxurious) hotel where we enjoyed a nice dinner and spa. The following day we returned to the Lake Louise ski area and spent another day further exploring the slopes before driving on to Kicking Horse for the main event.
We arrived at Kicking Horse around dinner time and discovered that we’d managed to book great accommodation and cooked ourselves some dinner before meeting up for drinks with some of the other Aussies that had also decided to make the trip for a couple of drinks ahead of the first day’s skiing.
Day 1 of the ski adventure involved getting Emily and Thomas booked into ski lessons (Sam and Michael weren’t interested for different reasons) before heading up to the top of the mountain. We managed to fit in a quick green run off the chair (the gondola goes all the way to the top of the mountain) before dropping them off and heading off on their own.
Caroline, Michael, Sam and I all trooped aboard the Gondola at that point to find out what the top of the mountain looked like. Before we even got there, I was seriously considering that I may not have packed enough underwear for the trip and wondering how the hell I was going to find my way back down again. And the whole time that we’re travelling up over rocky faced cliffs and seemingly near vertical ski runs, Michael is busy intoning that they’re not bad, he thinks it looks boring. Yes, I was ready to slap him, especially where some of the runs that were looking particularly scary to me were only blue!
Eventually we did make it to the top and had just started to make our way down the easiest path we could (much to Michael’s disgust) when my phone rang. It was one of the other Aussies ringing to say that Thomas’ teacher had just brought him back because he wasn’t feeling well. Crap. That meant that we needed to get down there as fast as we could (oh shit) to look after him. It was quickly agreed that Sam and I would take the safest way down whilst Caroline and Michael would seek the quickest way down. In the end, they beat us by about 10 minutes. The safe way takes a bloody long time as it involves skiing along a road that cuts back and forth across the face of the mountain (though Sam and I did jump onto a blue run for part of the way once we found one I thought was ok – and I loved it)!
At that point, I took Thomas back to the chalet (his stomach wasn’t feeling well) and Sam also took the opportunity to get out of skiing for the rest of the day. I jumped on the chair at the bottom of the mountain and skied the easier parts whilst I waited for an opportunity to catch up with Caroline and Michael. I then managed one more trip up the Gondola with them in the afternoon just in time to ski back down to pick up Emily from her lesson. There wasn’t much skiing for us after that and I took the chance to go into town and buy some food for dinner. Oh, and some fireworks too!
Day 2 was going to be a bit more adventurous and I was really keen to get out of the chalet early and ski on my own for a bit before meeting up with everyone else. In the end though, I took Thomas and Sam with me as they were going to have a bit of an easy early ski (which didn’t turn out to be early at all. Caroline went to drop Emily off for her lesson and I took Sam and Thomas up the chair). We’d managed a single run down the hill when Thomas decided that he actually wasn’t really up to it and so it was back to the chalet for us. On the way, the Griswalds came to visit and I ended up with a buggered calf (see here for more on that one), laid out in the chalet with ice for company. I’d made it all the way to 10:30am on day 2 (insert several four letter words here).
At that point, Caroline had her own little bit of the Griswalds in trying to get some pain killers for me. 2 hours after I called her to ask her to pick some up, she’d been back and forth and up and down the mountain, in and out of first aid stations and eventually one of the other Aussies showed up at the door with some of her left over medication. Caroline never did actually get me any despite her best efforts *sigh*. I snuggled down with my misery until everyone had finished skiing at which point I grabbed the Bundy and got to tell my terribly lame story over and over again, whilst listening to all the tales of the mountain.
Day 3 (New Year’s Eve) started with a much appreciated, if less than sober New Year’s phone call from Jason and Bel at 8am Canada time and then a whole lot of sitting on my arse whilst everyone had fun.
Lunch had been planned to be had by most of the adults at the Eagle’s Eye Restaurant and I decided that I’d join them just to break up the monotony. Michael came Caroline and I and after hobbling my way all the way to the Gondola, at least the rest of the afternoon was spent sitting down. And by the rest of the afternoon, I mean all of it, because the service was so bloody slow that it was all gone by the time that I finally got my steak. When they tell you it will take 18 minutes to cook a steak that someone has ordered well done, you expect a decent piece of beef. When, after 2 hours, they deliver a piece thin enough that it may well have come from Ethiopia’s last cattle ranch one is forced to wonder exactly what it was they were doing?! Needless to say, I left unimpressed and didn’t tip (a virtual crime over here).
The back end of the day was of course time to party, though it appeared that all the skiing had worn people out somewhat. I tried to get a head start on the drinking (given that was a sport I was still able to compete in) but in the end it didn’t really look like any one else was up for a particularly big night and I backed off so that we could head down to the revelry that was being hosted by the resort. It kicked off with a big air demo a little way up the mountain. That’s great if you can walk up a mountain but I was on one a bit legs at this point. I looked at stopping further down, but it quickly became apparent that I wasn’t going to see much and so struggled all the way up as far as I could manage until there was something to see. Turns out that as an organized event goes, it wasn’t particularly and so things were very slow.
Standing on one leg in the snow on a 30 degree for a show that was at best sporadic in its efforts was getting painful and at the point that my body indicated that it might like to engage in a little exploding-arse hilarity, I decided to make a quick exit. The only problem with this was that I couldn’t walk down the hill. I simply couldn’t safely place the foot of my left leg in a manner that would enable me to take a step. Instead, I hobbled across the face of the hill to where there was no one below me and sat upon said arse and slid myself down. Then I had to limp around until I could find a dunny (of course it was downstairs!) all the while indulging in some severe butt clenching and more than one prayer to the God of clean underwear to preserve me long enough to get there.
I’m happy to report that I made it with a nano-second to spare and that having had its little Griswaldian laugh at my expense, my body didn’t feel inclined to betray me at all after that.
We returned to the Chalet then to set about the drinking part of the festivities (and to watch the resort’s fireworks from a warm spot) and at 10:30 decided it was time indulge in a little pyromania of our own. Having told Bob (a fireman) that I’d managed to locate and purchase the happy little incendiaries, he had raced into town to buy some of his own, doubling our stock and our fun. In all, we fired off about 200 rockets to the great delight of everyone involved. My only disappointment was in not getting to ignite them myself (I couldn’t run away!).
We settled in again beyond that to drink out the remainder of 2009, much of which was accompanied by my renditions of various Rolf Harris Classics. Yes, true to form the Court of King Caractacus marched by in its entirety at about 11:53pm.
Day 4. I sat again and it sucked. But at the end of the day, I was invited to join Bob and Nancy for a hot tub and a couple of drinks (Caroline came in after skiing). After that we decided that we’d go for dinner at the local Scottish pub (of course – and a fabulous meal it was) and along the way I found that I could actually almost stand and walk. So much so, that by the time I got home, I decided that perhaps I might even ski the following day (which was of course the day we were leaving).
I woke early, jumped in the hot tub to loosen up the offending calf and escaped out the door on my own soon after the lift started hoiking people up the hill. Nervous and scared that I was about to do something really really stupid, I clambered aboard and very very cautiously skied back down again. I survived. I spent most of the rest of the morning riding the chair and skiing slowly back down the hill again. It wasn’t exactly how I’d planned my skiing at Kicking Horse and I didn’t make it back up the Gondola, but I did at least manage just a little more skiing whilst my truly amazing wife crammed all our shit back into the car before joining me with the kids for 2 final runs. Then of course it was time to drive.
We travelled to Edmonton and bunked down before the final part of the trip. In an effort to stave off the return just that bit longer, we went to the movies, Thomas and I so see Avatar and the rest to see the Squeakel.
It was only as we drove off that I realized I’d left my gloves in the cinema and only when we’d made it to the very start of the highway that I realized I’d left my book in the hotel. Both were recovered and finally at about 4pm we got out of Edmonton for real (we did lunch at Ikea too of course).
The return drive seemed inexorable, with plenty of traffic, roads in fair condition and just the occasional butt monkey slowing everyone down. By 9pm we were back in the Mac, lamenting the fact that all too soon, the holiday was over.
Things started very well for us, having successfully hosted Christmas lunch for the 3rd year running. This year our guests were the Handicotts and Gauthier’s along with their parents and we had a fabulous lunch that stretched through to dinner and a bit of pool before ending relatively early. We took the opportunity to pack for our ski trip and planned for an early get away on Boxing day as we were to drive all the way to Banff, a leisurely drive of some 840kms.
Against all departure traditions, we actually managed to cram into the well packed car and head off relatively on time and with a single stop for food and petrol around Edmonton, managed to complete the exercise in about 9 and a half hours with no flat tires, no vomit nor any other unforeseen adventures. Whew!
We bunked down for the night in Banff and then headed on to Lake Louise so that we could ski there as a family (for the first time since our very first Canadian Skiing experience way back in Novmber of ’07). Caroline and I had given each other new skis for Christmas, so we were very keen to get up the mountain and explore. We had a great day skiing, balancing Michael’s complaints that everything was too easy and that he only wanted to do a double black diamond, with Emily’s terror of any icy patches and my reluctance to push myself too far beyond the nice flat spots that I enjoy so much. (I don’t mind a black run, but really dislike a bumpy run).
In the end, we covered a fair bit of the mountain and as legs grew tired and children less willing late in the day, I sent Caroline and Michael off to explore some less sane areas of the mountain and I took Emily, Thomas and Sam on some friendly parts. We finished up for the day and went to Lake Louise where we had a room booked for the night (no, not at that hotel). We did stop by there though to check out a bit of ice carving before heading back to our nearby (much less luxurious) hotel where we enjoyed a nice dinner and spa. The following day we returned to the Lake Louise ski area and spent another day further exploring the slopes before driving on to Kicking Horse for the main event.
We arrived at Kicking Horse around dinner time and discovered that we’d managed to book great accommodation and cooked ourselves some dinner before meeting up for drinks with some of the other Aussies that had also decided to make the trip for a couple of drinks ahead of the first day’s skiing.
Day 1 of the ski adventure involved getting Emily and Thomas booked into ski lessons (Sam and Michael weren’t interested for different reasons) before heading up to the top of the mountain. We managed to fit in a quick green run off the chair (the gondola goes all the way to the top of the mountain) before dropping them off and heading off on their own.
Caroline, Michael, Sam and I all trooped aboard the Gondola at that point to find out what the top of the mountain looked like. Before we even got there, I was seriously considering that I may not have packed enough underwear for the trip and wondering how the hell I was going to find my way back down again. And the whole time that we’re travelling up over rocky faced cliffs and seemingly near vertical ski runs, Michael is busy intoning that they’re not bad, he thinks it looks boring. Yes, I was ready to slap him, especially where some of the runs that were looking particularly scary to me were only blue!
Eventually we did make it to the top and had just started to make our way down the easiest path we could (much to Michael’s disgust) when my phone rang. It was one of the other Aussies ringing to say that Thomas’ teacher had just brought him back because he wasn’t feeling well. Crap. That meant that we needed to get down there as fast as we could (oh shit) to look after him. It was quickly agreed that Sam and I would take the safest way down whilst Caroline and Michael would seek the quickest way down. In the end, they beat us by about 10 minutes. The safe way takes a bloody long time as it involves skiing along a road that cuts back and forth across the face of the mountain (though Sam and I did jump onto a blue run for part of the way once we found one I thought was ok – and I loved it)!
At that point, I took Thomas back to the chalet (his stomach wasn’t feeling well) and Sam also took the opportunity to get out of skiing for the rest of the day. I jumped on the chair at the bottom of the mountain and skied the easier parts whilst I waited for an opportunity to catch up with Caroline and Michael. I then managed one more trip up the Gondola with them in the afternoon just in time to ski back down to pick up Emily from her lesson. There wasn’t much skiing for us after that and I took the chance to go into town and buy some food for dinner. Oh, and some fireworks too!
Day 2 was going to be a bit more adventurous and I was really keen to get out of the chalet early and ski on my own for a bit before meeting up with everyone else. In the end though, I took Thomas and Sam with me as they were going to have a bit of an easy early ski (which didn’t turn out to be early at all. Caroline went to drop Emily off for her lesson and I took Sam and Thomas up the chair). We’d managed a single run down the hill when Thomas decided that he actually wasn’t really up to it and so it was back to the chalet for us. On the way, the Griswalds came to visit and I ended up with a buggered calf (see here for more on that one), laid out in the chalet with ice for company. I’d made it all the way to 10:30am on day 2 (insert several four letter words here).
At that point, Caroline had her own little bit of the Griswalds in trying to get some pain killers for me. 2 hours after I called her to ask her to pick some up, she’d been back and forth and up and down the mountain, in and out of first aid stations and eventually one of the other Aussies showed up at the door with some of her left over medication. Caroline never did actually get me any despite her best efforts *sigh*. I snuggled down with my misery until everyone had finished skiing at which point I grabbed the Bundy and got to tell my terribly lame story over and over again, whilst listening to all the tales of the mountain.
Day 3 (New Year’s Eve) started with a much appreciated, if less than sober New Year’s phone call from Jason and Bel at 8am Canada time and then a whole lot of sitting on my arse whilst everyone had fun.
Lunch had been planned to be had by most of the adults at the Eagle’s Eye Restaurant and I decided that I’d join them just to break up the monotony. Michael came Caroline and I and after hobbling my way all the way to the Gondola, at least the rest of the afternoon was spent sitting down. And by the rest of the afternoon, I mean all of it, because the service was so bloody slow that it was all gone by the time that I finally got my steak. When they tell you it will take 18 minutes to cook a steak that someone has ordered well done, you expect a decent piece of beef. When, after 2 hours, they deliver a piece thin enough that it may well have come from Ethiopia’s last cattle ranch one is forced to wonder exactly what it was they were doing?! Needless to say, I left unimpressed and didn’t tip (a virtual crime over here).
The back end of the day was of course time to party, though it appeared that all the skiing had worn people out somewhat. I tried to get a head start on the drinking (given that was a sport I was still able to compete in) but in the end it didn’t really look like any one else was up for a particularly big night and I backed off so that we could head down to the revelry that was being hosted by the resort. It kicked off with a big air demo a little way up the mountain. That’s great if you can walk up a mountain but I was on one a bit legs at this point. I looked at stopping further down, but it quickly became apparent that I wasn’t going to see much and so struggled all the way up as far as I could manage until there was something to see. Turns out that as an organized event goes, it wasn’t particularly and so things were very slow.
Standing on one leg in the snow on a 30 degree for a show that was at best sporadic in its efforts was getting painful and at the point that my body indicated that it might like to engage in a little exploding-arse hilarity, I decided to make a quick exit. The only problem with this was that I couldn’t walk down the hill. I simply couldn’t safely place the foot of my left leg in a manner that would enable me to take a step. Instead, I hobbled across the face of the hill to where there was no one below me and sat upon said arse and slid myself down. Then I had to limp around until I could find a dunny (of course it was downstairs!) all the while indulging in some severe butt clenching and more than one prayer to the God of clean underwear to preserve me long enough to get there.
I’m happy to report that I made it with a nano-second to spare and that having had its little Griswaldian laugh at my expense, my body didn’t feel inclined to betray me at all after that.
We returned to the Chalet then to set about the drinking part of the festivities (and to watch the resort’s fireworks from a warm spot) and at 10:30 decided it was time indulge in a little pyromania of our own. Having told Bob (a fireman) that I’d managed to locate and purchase the happy little incendiaries, he had raced into town to buy some of his own, doubling our stock and our fun. In all, we fired off about 200 rockets to the great delight of everyone involved. My only disappointment was in not getting to ignite them myself (I couldn’t run away!).
We settled in again beyond that to drink out the remainder of 2009, much of which was accompanied by my renditions of various Rolf Harris Classics. Yes, true to form the Court of King Caractacus marched by in its entirety at about 11:53pm.
Day 4. I sat again and it sucked. But at the end of the day, I was invited to join Bob and Nancy for a hot tub and a couple of drinks (Caroline came in after skiing). After that we decided that we’d go for dinner at the local Scottish pub (of course – and a fabulous meal it was) and along the way I found that I could actually almost stand and walk. So much so, that by the time I got home, I decided that perhaps I might even ski the following day (which was of course the day we were leaving).
I woke early, jumped in the hot tub to loosen up the offending calf and escaped out the door on my own soon after the lift started hoiking people up the hill. Nervous and scared that I was about to do something really really stupid, I clambered aboard and very very cautiously skied back down again. I survived. I spent most of the rest of the morning riding the chair and skiing slowly back down the hill again. It wasn’t exactly how I’d planned my skiing at Kicking Horse and I didn’t make it back up the Gondola, but I did at least manage just a little more skiing whilst my truly amazing wife crammed all our shit back into the car before joining me with the kids for 2 final runs. Then of course it was time to drive.
We travelled to Edmonton and bunked down before the final part of the trip. In an effort to stave off the return just that bit longer, we went to the movies, Thomas and I so see Avatar and the rest to see the Squeakel.
It was only as we drove off that I realized I’d left my gloves in the cinema and only when we’d made it to the very start of the highway that I realized I’d left my book in the hotel. Both were recovered and finally at about 4pm we got out of Edmonton for real (we did lunch at Ikea too of course).
The return drive seemed inexorable, with plenty of traffic, roads in fair condition and just the occasional butt monkey slowing everyone down. By 9pm we were back in the Mac, lamenting the fact that all too soon, the holiday was over.
Being that guy
No matter which of the big mountains that we’ve skied at over the last 2 years, there’s always been someone that you see sitting in the lodge with a pair of crutches and some part of their body either in plaster or being rested. They can't ski, they have been abandoned by their friends and have to suffer through a ski holiday without any of the skiing that makes it so good.
One of these stories is true:
Having followed Caroline and Michael onto a run that they assured me I was ‘going to love’ I found myself attempting to navigate rather steep blue run (intermediate) full of moguls. Now I’m all up for blue runs, just not the bumpy, full of mogul runs. I like them wide and open so that I can turn with speed at will, and in control. As I made my way across the moguls, looking for an opportune moment to turn, I managed to go a bit further than intended and found myself not on the bumpy blue run, but the adjacent stupidly steep black diamond, through the trees, over the rocks run. There was no way I wanted to go down that way, so instead, I turned back toward the blue run, only to find that I’d discovered a 2 metre drop off a rock face. Being the incredibly accomplished skier that I am, I managed to get my considerable body weight forward, landing the tips of the skis straight into the snow below. As I went over the front of them, the bindings held just a little bit too long and i felt my calf muscle tear just before the boot popped free. I rolled head over heels down the mountain to lie in agony as people first laughed at the sight and then came down concerned when they realised that i wasn’t getting up.
At that point I was lucky enough to lie in the snow for a considerable amount of time until one of those lovely blokes in a red jacket came along with a sled and give me a somewhat terrifying ride all the way back to the first aid station where they happily told me that my skiing holiday was now going to be a sit on your arse and watch tv kind of holiday.
--------------------
Thomas wasn’t feeling well and had had enough skiing after a single run from half way down the mountain. Sam was happy to keep skiing with me for a bit longer, but we had to get Thomas back to the Chalet first, so we went up the lift to the midpoint and skied our way back through the woods. We took a fun little run between the trees and paused where it joined the roadway. Thomas and Sam made their way down to the road, but I was a little more cautious, having significantly longer skis and needing to get down a short 1 metre incline that dropped into a gutter and back up to the road again. Not to mention that I needed to turn 180 degrees as I did so. It wasn't a big ask, nothing that I hadn't done the day before when taking the same route.
Only this time, things didn't quite go according to plan. Somehow in making the turn and getting down the short drop, things just didn't work. I ended up backwards and toppling over and in doing so, managed to snag the tail of my left ski, which stopped. Now the bindings are supposed to give way and at some point, they actually do. Unfortunately for me, my left calf gave way before the binding popped and set my boot free of the ski ... too late. I screamed, Sam and Thomas came to see what was wrong.
I could stand, I even managed to get my ski back on and make my way extremely cautiously the last 200m or so to the chalet, where with my calf throbbing in pain, I sent Sam off for ice and called Caroline to let her know that my holiday now sucked and by the way, could she please bring some pain killers.
----------------------
I was that guy
One of these stories is true:
Having followed Caroline and Michael onto a run that they assured me I was ‘going to love’ I found myself attempting to navigate rather steep blue run (intermediate) full of moguls. Now I’m all up for blue runs, just not the bumpy, full of mogul runs. I like them wide and open so that I can turn with speed at will, and in control. As I made my way across the moguls, looking for an opportune moment to turn, I managed to go a bit further than intended and found myself not on the bumpy blue run, but the adjacent stupidly steep black diamond, through the trees, over the rocks run. There was no way I wanted to go down that way, so instead, I turned back toward the blue run, only to find that I’d discovered a 2 metre drop off a rock face. Being the incredibly accomplished skier that I am, I managed to get my considerable body weight forward, landing the tips of the skis straight into the snow below. As I went over the front of them, the bindings held just a little bit too long and i felt my calf muscle tear just before the boot popped free. I rolled head over heels down the mountain to lie in agony as people first laughed at the sight and then came down concerned when they realised that i wasn’t getting up.
At that point I was lucky enough to lie in the snow for a considerable amount of time until one of those lovely blokes in a red jacket came along with a sled and give me a somewhat terrifying ride all the way back to the first aid station where they happily told me that my skiing holiday was now going to be a sit on your arse and watch tv kind of holiday.
--------------------
Thomas wasn’t feeling well and had had enough skiing after a single run from half way down the mountain. Sam was happy to keep skiing with me for a bit longer, but we had to get Thomas back to the Chalet first, so we went up the lift to the midpoint and skied our way back through the woods. We took a fun little run between the trees and paused where it joined the roadway. Thomas and Sam made their way down to the road, but I was a little more cautious, having significantly longer skis and needing to get down a short 1 metre incline that dropped into a gutter and back up to the road again. Not to mention that I needed to turn 180 degrees as I did so. It wasn't a big ask, nothing that I hadn't done the day before when taking the same route.
Only this time, things didn't quite go according to plan. Somehow in making the turn and getting down the short drop, things just didn't work. I ended up backwards and toppling over and in doing so, managed to snag the tail of my left ski, which stopped. Now the bindings are supposed to give way and at some point, they actually do. Unfortunately for me, my left calf gave way before the binding popped and set my boot free of the ski ... too late. I screamed, Sam and Thomas came to see what was wrong.
I could stand, I even managed to get my ski back on and make my way extremely cautiously the last 200m or so to the chalet, where with my calf throbbing in pain, I sent Sam off for ice and called Caroline to let her know that my holiday now sucked and by the way, could she please bring some pain killers.
----------------------
I was that guy
Dec 24, 2009
The Polar Bear
For a long time now, I've talked of buying Caroline an eternity ring, but the timing (and more importantly the financial situation) really haven't been right.
When I bought her engagement ring, I did so without her involvement. Hell, if the whole thing was going to be a surprise, I didn't exactly feel like the right way to go about it involved her telling me what it should look like. Caroline has always been more than happy with her engagement ring, but in the various discussions about an eternity ring (ahh the joys of shared finances) it had been decided that this time she would need to be involved. After all, it would have to fit with the rest of the bling.
Since being in Canada, we've heard a lot about Polar Bear diamonds and had discussed the fact that it would be a good part of an eternity ring and something special to take back home.
Well, events conspired in a number of ways and the jeweller that we had in mind had a closing down sale. We went in to see what they could do for us 2 days ago simply because of the sale and an hour later a plan had been not only hatched, but executed as well. It came down to the fact that they could put together a ring symbolising past, present and future, incorporating the diamond from Caroline's engagement ring along with a matching diamond sitting either side of a polar bear diamond. When the owner of the store said to us, "I suppose you would like it for Christmas?" we were done. We hadn't even considered the possibility of having something back in 2 days.
Sure enough though, we went in today and there it was, sparkling magnificently and ready for Christmas. We took it away and I wrapped it up, but given that it isn't really a Christmas present, more of a good God look how much i love you present, i only left it wrapped under the tree until just before mass.
Rather than describe just how lovely it is, I thought it easier to post this instead:
When I bought her engagement ring, I did so without her involvement. Hell, if the whole thing was going to be a surprise, I didn't exactly feel like the right way to go about it involved her telling me what it should look like. Caroline has always been more than happy with her engagement ring, but in the various discussions about an eternity ring (ahh the joys of shared finances) it had been decided that this time she would need to be involved. After all, it would have to fit with the rest of the bling.
Since being in Canada, we've heard a lot about Polar Bear diamonds and had discussed the fact that it would be a good part of an eternity ring and something special to take back home.
Well, events conspired in a number of ways and the jeweller that we had in mind had a closing down sale. We went in to see what they could do for us 2 days ago simply because of the sale and an hour later a plan had been not only hatched, but executed as well. It came down to the fact that they could put together a ring symbolising past, present and future, incorporating the diamond from Caroline's engagement ring along with a matching diamond sitting either side of a polar bear diamond. When the owner of the store said to us, "I suppose you would like it for Christmas?" we were done. We hadn't even considered the possibility of having something back in 2 days.
Sure enough though, we went in today and there it was, sparkling magnificently and ready for Christmas. We took it away and I wrapped it up, but given that it isn't really a Christmas present, more of a good God look how much i love you present, i only left it wrapped under the tree until just before mass.
Rather than describe just how lovely it is, I thought it easier to post this instead:
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