Shingles
Again. Just 6 years since the last outbreak. Mother fucking bloody hell.
As soon as this clears up I'm getting the vaccine. It's supposed to be a once in a lifetime thing, this is - well, too much, must be the Native American blood that's making me sensitive to the pox, after the dentist, probably stressed, undoubtedly, a tingling in the extremities, I recognize this, ignore it, hope it will go away, but nope, nope, nope.
The pustules, leaking burning lymphatic fluid, acid, that lift the skin, blisters, on your eyes, around your face, fill your ears, groin, thighs, from the tips of your fingers to your wrist, wake in the middle of the night almost howling from the pain, it's as if someone sanded your skin down to the very nerves then threw some gas on you and set you alight, then begins the drying of the dead skin, the cracks, lesions, sores begin to heal - heal it's own form of torture, how many layers of skin have to be shed? 5 at least, feeling your finger tips, you can feel them, but not them, as if they were hidden somewhere inside a dead flesh glove, knuckles crack, around my mouth, eyes, I grow in my beard to conceal it, this is fucking murder.
When all of it is passed, and it is passing now, I'm getting the vaccine, fool me twice...
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Congee Boy
This, a new discovery, a pop-up restaurant operating weekends (Fri? Sat? Sun? Evenings...) in the Radio Cafe. I was sucked in by the beef tartar.
And, a hurried trip to town after work on Saturday - and it was worth it, every bit. The soup, Congee's not my thing so I tried the BBQ pork, also apparently not my thing. But the tartar, a $7.00 open faced sandwich with a golf-ball sized scoop of tartar on it - was worth the trip. Sadly only until the end of July, but I'm going to try and pop in every weekend...
Link: https://www.congeeboy.net/
And, relooking at the menu, there's a few other tasty treats I might have to try...
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Frosthall Peg, Crystal Mountain
Monday, exhausted, in such a rush to leave that I forget my phone charger, proper climbing shoes. Monday, after banking and errands I swing through Balfour on my way to the big adventure.
Pick them up. There's been power outages, the weather, unruly, 3 foot whitecaps on the lake, no boats, this might not be the day to be off prospecting...
North of Kaslo I hit it. Torrential rain, the road, awash in an inch of water, pouring down, wipers can't keep up.
And 20 minutes more and I'm through it. Roads dry, have never seen a drop of rain, and North of the meadows the logging roads are dry and kicking up dust.
First stop, some snacks at the little shop in Trout Lake. I hoped to have a bite to eat at the Hotel - beautiful, 100+ years old, but it's booked for a private event.
Nevermind. Some chips and a pop and I'm off towards Ferguson. There's a few roadcuts there that inspire me, similar terrain to the crystal mountain, but a couple of hours later I've found nothing. Now where to?
Up Crystal Mtn. Why not?
That's actually a rhetorical question, there's lots of good reasons "why not", but that inner voice is generally silenced by the prospect of treasures...
Up, up, the jeep, overheating, slow down, speed up, switch gears, 4WD Lo, and somehow or other I find the balance between driving baby hard and getting her to the top of the mountain. The hardscrabble 'road' to the summit is worn, not only am I tipping precariously back on the way up but to the left, over the cliff, hit one rock and you'll be pitched rolling into oblivion...
I make it to the top. The roads, worse than I remember, the last couple of years are eroding them, soon there will be none...
And riding along the summit I come to snow. A little late in the season for this, a 3 foot patch, someone has been through with an ATV, why not, give it a run...
Nope.
And - getting out to walk the snow patch, looking over a small rise I see snow all the way down, had I succeeded in surmounting this I would have drifted into a snow filled ravine and been there a week or so waiting to get out. So - a guardian angel of sorts somewhere...
This road, rude cart track on the edge of the mountain, a 341 point turn and I'm turned around and ready to go back.
Not that I'm going back, I just like first things first.
Now get out, gather my tools, head to the crystal place.
It's a mess. Deteriorating overburden have hidden all pockets, to get to "the good stuff" will take a day or more's digging, and so I content myself with raking the tailings. A few small crystals, none worth the journey.
And for all the deep-woods-manly-sportsman-off I'm wearing it's the mosquito netting cap on my head that saves my life. No kidding. They're bad.
Night, walk the 2 KM back to the jeep, tuck in, the next morning explore other roads up to other summits.
There are plenty of good signs, and places to dig and sink a hammer, but - well, still too much snow.
Off to other destinations....
***
Frosthall, then Sol Mtn road, some 60 or so KM off road from the ferry at Shelter Bay.
Up, up, a lizard scurrying between rocks (are there lizards up here? How? But I saw it...)
Getting out to tap at some of the pegmatites, I'm seeing them everywhere, this mountain, it's nothing but a zone of pegmatites, but I'm not seeing...
Well, what I'm here for. Minor mica, black tourmaline, some garnet, feldspar, smoky quartz. But none of the other, none of the goodies.
And it's here, I know it - I can feel it, only somehow I'm just not seeing it. It's like standing on the edge of some vast treasure that I'm somehow just not able to recognize...
Getting out at another peg I'm finding myself short my Estwing Hammer. Damn. Put it on the jeep last stop while I took a leak and now...
Backtrack, can't find it, must have slid off and been lost, and I'm mourning it, the loss of a faithful friend, tool, that discovering-breaking extension of my right arm...
...and braking on the way back it slides from the roof where it was hidden and lands clearly on my windshield.
Reunited!!!
I drive up to the furthermost point of the road, I could go further but this is far enough, in the morning I'll prospect the way back,
I've checked it all, but then, not even a fraction of what's up here - and there's lots. It's here, and sooner or later I'm gonna find it. I have to stop at the hundreds of creeks and rivulets, pan them for gold, screen for gems, I need to canvas the length and breadth of every pegmatite - it's here, I know, and in the past it's taken me a few trips to find the paying ground, this will be no different...
Wednesday, stinking of deep woods off, sweat, cigarettes and vodka, the jeep, filled and billowing with the dust collected from 400 KM of gravel roads, it's back to Nelson to clean up for work on Thursday...
***Note: Working pretty much the next 10 days straight. I want to complain, but I've got bills...
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Pitchfork
Now, freshly back and laundered from a few days up in high places and time for a civilized dinner before I'm off to the Balfour Work Camp.
Pitchfork, a charming little "fine dining" place in Nelson. I sit at the bar (no reservation), have a steak, blue rare.
Service, fine, steak, fine, not exceptional.
But I'm presented with the debit machine and looking at the tipping options I just about flip my lid. This is what's killing tipping culture:
"Tip Assist". First - the "Lowest Option" - default 18% - which is in reality 20%, because you're tipping on taxes as well.
Now, in my world, 20% is a great tip. Everything done well, exceptional service, etc, etc.
Here, it's the worst tip. After that you can tip 20% all the way up to 30% - and the machine makes you feel as if an 18% (really 20%) tip is "not enough" or "Cheap".
This is what's killing the the restaurant industry. Tipping, in itself a controversial subject, is made worse by owners expecting people to treat their waiters like their doctor or dentist - I mean, really, if you can't make a living wage on 15%-20% tips then you're in the wrong industry.
There are a whole host of other issues - housing/rent to be paid, etc, etc - but those are problems everyone faces and are systemic to the economy at the moment, and are not the problem of customers. As food prices and costs rise, so do a servers tips, and so - this is comparatively a well indexed or hedged against inflation profession.
Anyways, every time I see a machine that goes above 20% I'm calling bullshit. It's the basest form of gouging and begging and does the entire industry a great disservice.
Oh - and even though where I work the highest option is 20% a good many customers tip higher. That's nice, but it's not the expectation. This is getting fucking ridiculous.
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