journal features

Wreck beach

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Vancouver, 2001.05.21

Ken took me to a beach, here in Vancouver, beyond the University, ostensibly to see the variety of eagles that he and Heidi had seen down there on previous occasions. Apparently, though, things change in Spring. We saw lots of naked folk (mostly men, naturally), vendors (also naked) selling weed and tequila, and teenagers pretending to smoke up. I got some photos of the birdlife nonethless, but felt way overdressed.

Ken, Heidi and I packed up and drove into the interior on Friday morning, on a camping trip. We met Charlie - who'd driven from Calgary - at 2 PM in Princeton, BC. From there we headed south-east toward Osoyoos, and found a place at a BC Forest Service campsite near Cathedral Proovincial Park. It was great to camping out in the sticks again.

I tried out my new pack on our Saturday hike, and it passed with flying colours. I could barely feel it, even though it was carrying two litres of water, my new rainwear and 'Polartec' jacket, a pair of jeans, a light-weight set of shirt and pants, my camera bag, some food, and a pair of sandals.

rand()m quote

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.

—Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.