ashphalt mattresses
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well its been quite a while. lets see roughly 200 kms or so. When last i left off i was sitting out the rain at a C.A.P site in Arnold's cove. not much different today. its raining once again. and once again i am thanking my govt. for giving me free unlimited internet access. The internet should be a right i feel, or at least free. but lets get on with the story.
Upon leaving the library i met up with my burden back at the Trans Can exit. it was only slightly more damp. I didn't get very far from there just back to the trail where i slept in a tunnel passing under my beloved Highway. it was a good sleep, on ashphalt, a new surface to add to the lists on which i've slept. the next morning i met an elderly gent picking up rocks at the side of the highway. I wasn't quite sure why he was doing it. the rocks didn't appear to be anything special. just your ordinary everyday highway base. he seemed to be quite selective in which ones he collected. So i asked him "what are you picking up rocks for." "Oh i collect them." okay to each his own, right. he can pick up rocks and i'll walk i guess. anyhow i doddled off after that intent on getting to Goobies.
It was a long and drippy day and there was very little traffic on the trail. A few kids on ATV's and thats it. I met some grouse at around noonish and they seemed to be quite content with me to pass within a few feet of them. If i were more of a hunter than a gatherer i could have made a meal of them. i stuck with the blueberries that were much easier to snare than a flighty fowl. it cleared up for an hour or so in the afternoon and my jeans dry up a touch. it didn't last long. i was soon soaked anew by the drippy drops. I got to Goobies at around 4:20 or so. Not much there. a bunch of houses, broken machinery (mostly hoes) and a heavy equipment repair shop. I stopped at the shop to inquire about a B+B or something like the same. The man i approched was busy using a small hoe to take the track off of a swamp machine. I was sure that he was using the wrong tool, however i have never proffessed to know much about heavy machinery. When the man paused to scratch his head i seized my opportunity. He told me that there was no B+B here in Goobies but about a mile or so down the track there is the Trailway Inn. I bid him adieu and i was on my way.
It was a little more than a mile, and the rain never let up. When i got there i went straight for the pub and ordered a burger and a coffee. The Barstress was all to happy to oblige. then i inquired about a room. They had a $45 special. It was a room with 2 single beds and a stand up shower. I've always prefered showers to baths. i didn't mind. I was thrilled at the cheap rate. So i shit, showered, shaved and promptly fell asleep. I awoke at around 7:00 and decided to watch a little news. bad choice. They were talking about the comment that chap on the 700 club made about The Hugo guy down in Venezuala. The story only served to make me more frustrated with the Christians of the world. But i couldn't let that bother me. people will be ignorant, arrogant, and foolish even when they proffess to be a man of god. I switched the television off in disgust, and decided to see if i could soak up some local colour. it being friday and all.
It was a pretty bleak scene at the bar, there was a bartender and one customer.
but thats enough for a conversation so i ordered a Black Horse, "Made with Pure Newfoundland Water."
It didn't take long before a few more folkes trickled in out of the deluge outside. soon there 5 or six folkes to talk to. they cozied right up to me, and before long i was regaling them with stories of the great land beyond Newfoundland.
My original intent was to stick around for 3 beers then head back up stairs.
as i wanted to get out at a decent time the next morning. but as socializing would have it the locals wouldn't let me go.
they started buying me beers and asking me which local brews i had tried.
After sampling a good number of stouts and ales, the old man sitting next to me asked me if i smoked up. I wasn't quite sure what he was asking me at the time so i asked him to repeat it. He must've been 60 or so, so it caught me a little off gaurd. When i finally understood what he was asking me i replied "yeah of course." with that he disappeared into the washroom for a good 10 minutes. When he returned he said "its done, i got 'er rolled." we then strolled out on to the deck. The rain was still making the highway traffic sound like tape being peeled off of paint. He proceeded to spark a fairly sizable doobie. he barely got a puff in before he passed it to me. Mmm, Quite tastey i thought. he passed it over to me when it was still quite large and said "i'm done, keep it." so i stubbed it out and saved it for later.
upon getting back into the bar i noticed that there was a fresh pint sitting in front of my seat. in addition to this there was a little shot glass filled with a mysterious amber elixir. The gentleman who was sitting on the opposite side as the old man had his own little glass of amber liquid. he said "We're making you a newf tonite, drink up bye." Upon finishing my glass, i was presented with a little certificate which read "The Royal Order Of Screechers. This is to certify that Aaron Veldstra of hamitlon ON Has consumed some of newfoundlands golden elixir. The bearer of this certificate is hearby enrolled in the Royal Order of screechers. signed some incomprehensible signatures of the President and presiding Officer."
Well needless to say, i didn't get on the trail early the next morn. rather late as a matter of fact.
I woke at noon with a spliting headache and the vow never to consume alcohol again.
the waitress who served me breakfast was laughing the entire time, as she had witnessed the whole ordeal.
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