(as reported by Lach Fergusson):
Royal Canadian Mounted Expeditionary Peacekeeping Forces
Saskatoon Recon, January 2005
Cpl. Peter Dennis Dodson - last known reported live
where-abouts: “Saskatoon, Saskatchewan”
Peter Dennis Dodson has been long gone to us and I wanted answers.
I needed answers. So I sojourned alone into the frozen nether regions of a deep,
deeeep Canadian winter to find some answers…
It was cold…
There was snow…
And some drunken antics…
BUT I FOUND HIM… PEE-DERR!!!
And what else would be the very first thing to do
you once in the “City of Bridges”…?
You go ICE FISHING!! ICE FISHING!! ICE FISHING!!
That's George, the philosophic plumber, auguring us a couple of fine
18”-gauged fishing holes through 2 feet of ice.
You may have noticed the Van. Yes. The 1-tonne GMC Econoline
Van full of heavy plumbing tools and material.
And it is parked out in the middle of the Lake.
While auguring the second hole, we heard and then felt the most
tremendous KeRACK!! travel under our feet. Pete and I jumped.
George paused. George paused, wiped his brow and said, “Funny,
I've never heard something like that before.”
And then he just kept on auguring…
We then got down to business. Before you could say Pemmican,
we had ourselves a little portable shack up and sheltering
us from the -35 degree wind chill…
It was a very clever construction - a few wooden struts, metal poles,
tarpaulin and *bing* you've got insta-fishing luxury!! I'm sittinh
snjughly on da propane header styinahg warmnnot inhalong eny fumws
We can't catch fish - we're so blue…
NOTE: the teeny weeny fishing rods - only man
with small penis swing long pole in ice fishing shack.
And what do you do when you're absolute crap and can't catch
a damn thing (despite rather expert tuition from George)…
You drink Beer!! And not just any beer, but good
Ukrainian-German Saskatchewan beer -Boh! Beer.
By the way, we're not the only ones out here sat next to
a VERY HEAVY VEHICLE ON THE ICE.
Supposedly the ice can take it, so we just
jumped the bank and drove on out.
Yes, those are great big WONKING cracks in the ice. Clean all the
way through. But the magical thing about ice is that is like a living thingand can heal
itself. Yup. (NOTE: the arctic-blast proof “huggy' or hoody -
a permanent accessory of the wintering Saskatchewanese)
After such a death defying experience, the really
only reasonable thing to then do is…
play cards and drink whisky!!!
…with star wars cards and the whole gang in the prairie
house kitchen. Very Canadian.
Even Maya joined in. Hey, it can be cold and lonely in the vast winter
hinterland of Canada, I needed a partner too…
Peter got drunkie
George got drunkie
UNO!!
…and Michelle denied the evening ever occurred.
Really Peter, you've got broadband and recycling but no indoor plumbing??!
(hey! and look, it's the old trusty Civic buried there on the left!)
The next day…
…we journeyed out to experience the epitome of Canadian culture.
See, the possibilities are endless like the vast land of Canada itself.
Hell, they really do sell tires!! Thanks Coach.
But I digress.
I wanted to see what it was that brought Peter to this land of plenty(ful snow)
- what did he find that drew and kept his soul so far away from the
craggy sea-blown shores of the great Pacific coastal mountains..?
It was a calling from the plains themselves, a higher calling…
…it was knowledge that he found here.
AND I FOUND HIS GRAD PHOTO!!!
Isn't he cute!!!! I know we're all proud of the handsome devil.
I will skip out on snow-dusted old buildings, cause that's not what university means.
Instead, I wanted to know what the University of Saskatchewan meant for Peter…
And here is where he would fight with the other savage and starving undergrads for his
daily sustenance. Here is where great thoughts would be revealed like the mystery
meat served on 'Mexican Mondays'. Can you not see his deep contemplation..?
Or maybe he's just passing gas - hrrrrm, damn mystery meat.
And here is where Peter would wile away long hours of reading, sipping back
at the Broadway Roastery and watching the world go by in his books and by the window…
And at University you also DRINK. So we went and headed
for a suitably Saskatoonian local.
And I ate my fill of wings. Wings! WINGS!!! of which, sadly, they have no
knowledge in England. Good wings. Hot wings. Don't stop the wings.
Ohhhh, not in such a long time had it felt so goood to feel sooo ill.
(NOTE: mandatory thermal underwear)
The beer began to blur our judgment.
The night went on and on, from the Yard and Flagon, to the eunce-eunce university kid
club to drink highballs from pitchers with lonnng straws to the pierced noses
and piercing guitars of Lydia's…
I finally had to shout my joy out to the whole city!! (NOTE: fire department
had to free my frozen hand from the statue)
…unfortunately, that was the extent of the evening's coverage due to extreme
drunken incapacitation. After spilt drinks (sorry Pete!!), bar brawls (well, actually
Peter reprimanding me for the spilled drinks… sorry again buddy!), and minor
extremity-frostbite (you don't want to know which extremity - just take note not to try
a late night winter tinkle in the bushes) I'll never forget it.
Suffice it to say, it was a long walk home in the cold… cause the
cabbies sure as hell didn't want to take home these two messes.
The next morning was painful and I felt in needed to throw my body to the
mighty Saskatchewan River…
But some sense prevailed and the cold crisp air of the prairies soon
cleared our heads - and froze those smiles permanently onto our
faces until I left Saskatoon...
But let me reflect further on what I discovered. I left Vancouver in search
of what? I'm not certain. I did not know of this land they call Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.
What sort of land was it and why in God's frozen wasteland was Peter still there..?
But where I once was blind, I think now I can see…
…it is a beautiful land…
…it is a land where a man and his dog will never not have enough
room to be master and beast…
…it is a land of friendship…
But, in this land, Peter has found something more important than knowledge
or any of these other things - he found love. And now, this is Peter's land.
Yes, Peter's land.
So I bade farewell to Peter, Michelle, Maya, and their sweet prairie house in search again for what?
I don't know… knowledge? love? my own land? Maybe tomorrow…
Until tomorrow…
