An unplanned adventure
Article by Teryn Midzain
Recently, I joined in on a get-together day trip to the beautiful area that is the Squamish Sk?wx?wu?7mesh U?xwumixw for a walk and dinner with a group of experienced climbers.
I learned that a “walk” to climbers doesn’t mean a jaunt up a populated gravel path to a lookout; it means meeting on the side of the highway, traveling alongside it, then going down a wet slope with no real path. Not to mention having to find your way over slick rock, compacted dirt, loose logs, brambles, and the occasional trudge through the snow. It was a nice and relaxing “bush walk” according to the climbers, who traversed the land with ease.
I never felt out of place or left behind. I was slow, and I struggled, but it never bothered the group. They guided and suggested how to approach the “path” as they talked about the history of these routes, little known to anyone outside of the hiking community.
At the end of the journey, there was a cliff overlooking the sea. It was mesmerizing as we sat on smooth rocks, snacking on candied salmon.
It was a perfect Sunday.
Punch buggy; no punch backs!
Article by Emmaline Spencer
Have you met Humphry? My darling, Humphry, is a 2000 Volkswagen Beetle that seems to be in a perpetual state of falling apart. He’s full of quirks, and I just can’t give him up for a car that will cost me less money to keep on the road.
From the yellow duct tape on his front bumper to his custom Kirby license plate frame, I love him from headlights to tailpipe. My flower display is changed seasonally and is designed by my baby sister. The first addition to my car, before anything else, was Bertram, a large rubber duck shaped stuffy that I won at a carnival game. It protects my car and is my companion when I go on long drives.
Humphry is full of stories and memories. Just seeing him can cheer me up. When I’m really down, I drive around just to see people point at my car and then punch the person next to them. Humphry is a bright yellow spot on my dreariest of days.
The quiet zone
Article by Emma Hones
There’s one perk to working on campus that I don’t tell new folks about. It isn’t in our training materials, and it rarely comes up in conversation — but when I really need it, it’s always there. It might be one of my favourite things about working here. Let me set the scene. It’s nine o’clock. I’ve just said my goodbyes on my weekly radio show, played the final song, and put the system on autopilot for the night. I take off my headphones, look around… and there’s no one there. The Student Union Building is quiet and deserted. Only the soft sounds of music playing on the air accompany me.
For some, this might be unsettling — maybe even creepy — but for me, after so many hours spent burning mental energy being social and putting on a quality broadcast for my listeners, it’s almost therapeutic to be completely isolated for a while — to have no obligations to anyone, or anything. No need to read social cues. No need to respect quiet hours. Just… me, in whatever way my mind and emotions might shape that word.
And then I go home, to face the world again in the morning.
A lonely old man’s lament
Article by Alfred
Dear Charles,
Yours are the only letters I seem to be receiving of late. Since calls for our advice dried up and you left for that accounting job to make ends meet, I find myself quite forlorn. I took up knitting, which I quickly abandoned upon realizing I’d knit three sleeves into one sweater — all on the same side. Hobbies have always been your strong suit, not mine. I’ve been spending a little more time on my phone, browsing the app store. Did you know you can order food to your home from convenience stores now? It’s as atrocious as what you get in-person, only you pay a little extra, have to tip, and it’s a little more depressing. I’ve ordered the taquitos three times this week.
I’ve also been stemming the tide of loneliness with something called “Bumble,” which intrigued me, as you’ve referred to me as a “bumbling old man” for years. People sure love their acronyms these days. I don’t know what “dtf” stands for yet, but once I’ve cracked their code I’m sure conversing will become far more productive.
It’s clear these people need our advice more than ever. For now, I’ll sit in my chair and stare into the fireplace as I wait.
Teryn Midzain is an English Major with ambitious goals to write movies and a full-time nerd, whose personality and eccentrics run on high-octane like the cars he loves. More importantly, Teryn loves sports [Formula One], and doesn’t care who knows. When not creating and running deadly schemes in his D&D sessions, Teryn tries to reach the core of what makes the romantic and dramatic World of Sports, the characters and people that make the events so spectacular.
Emmaline is working on her BA and ambitions to become an English teacher. They always say, those who cannot do, teach. She spends her free time buying, reading, and hoarding books with the hope that one day she will have no furniture and instead only have piles of books.
