White Water Rafting on Water Street

What's next. I'll tell you what's next. 2 bachelor parties and 1 job hunt. That's what's next.

So a lot has conspired since I last dropped in on the ol' blogosphere.

And to kick it off, yes it's official, I've left my post as Assistant Brew master at The Robert Simpson Brewing Co. The drive finally got the better of me. Last Wednesday was my last day. I'm still going to be making the trip up there two or three times a week or until the new brewers are fully trained on the brew house, but my capacity there is only as a consultant and not as an employee of the Robert Simpson Brewing Co.

I learned a lot in my almost nine months there, not just about brewing but also about what is important to me personally. Working 12 hour days, plus driving for 2 hours each day doesn't leave one with much time to live and living is pretty much on the top of my "to do list".

I can spout cliches like, "working to live, not living to work" and they'd all be true. But I'm just going to move right on past this and leave it all where it should be, behind me.

On more pleasant news, I've been jamming up those few meager hours I get each week with road trippin' good times.

First it was off to Ottawa for Mike Brown's bachelor weekend. After a morning of jetting around Toronto in a Porche Twin-Turbo (you'll have to excuse me, what I know about cars can fill a thimble) it was off to Ottawa for some binge drinking and BBQ, before we awoke with the sun and headed up the Ottawa River towards the Belle Province for some White Water Rafting.

This was my first White Water Rafting experience and to be honest I didn't really know what to expect. There was a twinge of nervousness but deep down I knew I was going to like it. And like it I did. If for nothing else than to see my buddy James' face every time we came up from a big rapid. Panting deeply and with complete disorientation in his eyes, each tortured look on his water soaked face was pure agony mixed with absolute elation. You have to understand that James is also the single most uncoordinated person on the planet. He poses only the most minuscule amounts of athletic ability and when forced into a situation such as holding a paddle and trying to sit at the same time, his motor skills suddenly abandon him. His flailing arms begin to wave violently in the air and his knees buckle, sending him straight down onto his ass in the middle of the raft. Seeing this first hand made almost every minute of the 7 hour drive worth it. Well that and the complete awesomeness of White Water rafting. Definitely something I'll be doing again in my life.

After we dragged our wet and weakened bodies out of the Ottawa River, we loaded back into the car and drove as far as the next gaz (yes, I spelled it like that on purpose) station and loaded up on beers for the long trip back into Ottawa.

Which of course we got lost on.

That night we tore a strip off the Market and made the rounds from bar to bar. Ottawa never disappoints.

As fun as all of this was, it's always the drives that define these trips. For me, whenever I look back at all the road trips I've ever been on, the first thing I remember is the journey there and the journey back.

The journey there is filled with excitement and anticipation of the weekend to come. With new adventures on the horizon and a tank full of liquor to fuel the trip, everyone is giddy with the thoughts of new adventures.

The ride home is usually a little less rowdy but it's the bonding over the recounting of the seemingly endless stream stupid and many times embarrassing events of the weekend just past that make it so memorable. That and the fact that almost everyone in the car is giddy from the complete lack of sleep over the past three days and everything that comes out of any ones mouth is pretty much the funniest thing they've heard in there entire life.

I think the ride home is always my favourite part.

The ride home from Ottawa did not disappoint either. It was 5 hours of rehashing, that probably would only have been better if we infact had hash. But I digress. It was another successful stag weekend.

Not two weeks later it was time for another stag. This time it was my good friend Brian's and we were off to Boston, to see the sights and catch a ball game.

Again we did our best to keep the location and time of the trip a secret from Brian, and this is no easy task mind you, but we managed to do it. Well the time was a secret and Brian was thoroughly suprised but the location was only held a secret for the amount of time it took us to drive from Brian's house to the Lakeshore. Approximately 10 mintues. We aren't pointing any fingers here....giant, hulk like stubby fingers.

The trip took a little longer than we expected, so we got a little drunker in the car than we expected but that's okay. We rolled into Boston about 3-330am only to be awakened by Fuss at about 630am beer and hand ready to hit the town. He entertained us for about 30 minutes with a rambling monologue about "gussets" and intermitent vomiting and by the end of it we were ready to roll. By 1030am we were at the bar and sampling some of the fine beers and food stuffs the city had to offer.

But you have to imagine that a day that starts at 1030am after only 3 hours sleep probably doesn't last that long. We managed to get in a few sights, get drunk and take our pants off at a restaurant but by 1130pm the city and the booze had got the better of us and we were back home. Which was probably for the best cause the next day we were heading to Fenway to catch a Sox game.

After a full nights sleep and a morning of pinting at The Boston Beer Works and Bukowski, a few wonderful beer bars just a short jaunt from the stadium we were ready for the game. And with the sun shining down on us and our shirts off, we enjoyed the game from the friendly seats in the right field bleachers at Fenway.

The atmosphere was great, everyone was totally into the game. The Sox in Boston are like the Leafs in Toronto, more a religion than a sport. Truly a great place to catch a game. I think the Sox won, but I'm not sure what the score was.

After the game we headed out to the Fenway neighbourhood and made our rounds of the bars. Again, the atmosphere was electric and the whole place was jammed with drunken fans and party seekers. Luckily we got enough sleep the night before and we were able to make it a little longer into the night.

We managed to get home alright but some how between a trip to IHOP at 330 am and a walk along the river we managed to lock our selves out of our room with the deadbolt from the outside. Don't ask, cause I don't know how. We did get back in at around 6am but it left us a little tired for the long ride home.

But like I said before, with a little less sleep sometimes the ride home can be that much more fun. And fun it was. I don't think I will be forgetting this weekend for a long time to come.

So what's next.