Perplexed in Port McNeil

Do you ever encounter one of those mystical quandaries that you wrestle with to the very core of your being?
I stumbled across this gem early one morning on my way to catch a boat.

Now what exactly is the difference...its like that old laundry detergent add on TV...Do you see the difference?...I don't see the difference...Do you see the difference...on and on in a never ending spiral of metaphysical angst.

Were those French fries I had at lunch greasy...or were they oily? Apparently someone in Port McNeil knows the difference and is keeping track of the matter.

I didn't summon the physical courage to look inside, but one of my co-worker peeked inside the labeled "Grease Only". According to him, the contents are best described as a "gelatinous mass of brownish white, with a thin film of viscous, foul smelling liquid" (Editors note: description may vary from actual accounts...profanities and colourful euphemisms removed for readers protection).

To think, I've been using the one can system to drain my frying pans. I'll have to carve some room under my sink for another.

Beating the Heat

Yesterday, we found a way to beat the heat, and have a cool lunch break.
Notably, this was the only lunch break in my 10 day shift, so we thought we'd make it memorable.
So up onto this glacial snowfield we flew. Normally, I'm a pretty nervous flier, and this flight was no exception, but the views were worth the racing pulse and visions of imminent doom. There was something distinctly surreal about flying so low over so many big mountains and glaciers, all the while with a Led Zeppelin soundtrack playing in the headphones...sort of movie like actually.
This particular spot is Mt Benedict, located somewhere on the mainland coast, between Knights Inlet and Port McNeil. Somewhere in the distance, you can see Mt. Waddington.
Even at 1800m, it was hot (a balmy 29 degrees) but a snowball fight proved refreshing.
Unfortunately, we only had about 20 minutes, and then it was back to hot clear cuts and unrelenting sun.
This was definitely a highlight of my last shift. Other highlights included staying at a floating kayaking resort on Gilford Island (a converted float church), and hiking 500 metres up from a boat into heli blocks.
More adventures are promised in the near future as I embark on a 12 day boat tour of the Central Coast (call it a working vacation).

Patriotism (Musings on the Meaning of Canada Day)

Simply put, Canada Day is the following:
A day on which Canadians of all nationalities, ethnicities, genders, and sexual orientation, jump in their pickup trucks, drive 50 or more KMs on logging roads, to sit in very well designed camping chairs, drink beer by lakes, and then sleep in their trucks.
This revelation came to me yesterday as I was doing all this.
We are a nation of redneckers at heart.
They'll never take are cozy camping chairs, or our beer. Just let the bastards try!!