MAST Writing Class - Coming to Fernie

They picked the right colors for pools. Through the synthetic products used in over colonized suburbia to compensate for the lack of real, they managed to pick the magical shade of exotic.

The afternoon is filled with the distant sound of families’ normal summer life. Lawnmowers are humming on a regular tone. The high pitch celebration of cheerful young swimmers stands out like inexperienced sopranos in a choir.

The county of Shefford’s symphony fades away; My overwhelmed head ponders. I’m a 27 year old teenager with the biggest decision of my life pending to be made. Sitting motionless, except for the occasional reflex of bringing coffee to my taste, my eyes are studying the sparkling surface of the water: Physics’ vibrant web of laws.

Two worlds collide and tackle in silence for a place in my life. Choices never require much of my time. This: is different. It’s happening right now and I already know that this hour will set the tone for the remaining of my existence. The doctor’s appointment is early this afternoon.

I slowly realize that my head has to let go of this one because the weights are too serious on both sides. So it turns to my heart, which has no idea how to calculate rational decisions, and so it does what it does, it feels. On one end is the potent fear of loss. Many things push me to stay with the Rock lifestyle. How far would the band roll while mounting those strings and riding those drums, fuelling on thrilled crowds? I can almost touch everything my ego has ever craved. And I’m terrified to lose it all.

On the other hand I see a kid, the bare and mysterious gift of life, love casting blossom, the least expected turn of events, adventure again. I feel the somehow familiar thrill of uncharted realms.

And that is how within seconds I was convinced, tremendously certain that the right choice made me. I was going to have a kid. And we’ll head for B.C.

Two weeks ago, we left the Belle Province with our little Volkswagen for the best place on earth. Let us see mountains and fresh water. And we glided across the thousands of miles. On our way we learned about this small town, a remote powder haven. The feeling was inspiring. Within the first hour of our arrival, we were keen.

It’s the perfect size for a city: the rustic style, the little cafés, the library, the aquatic center with the sparklers and the slide; that was it. But to find accommodation is harder than we thought. After a long road trip, here we are squatting on Mt Fernie Provincial Park’s campground.

The rain is playing with the roof giving a back beat to the warm protection of shelter. This van has wooden cupboards, carpet on the ceiling and is glaring with the 80’s multiple tints of brown. The candles and Ben Harper’s Power of the Gospel hushed October away.

The promise land lets a crack in its door. We audition for Fernie’s golden Citizenship.

The wind is deserting our walls allowing the thick calm of dense snowfall to claim its soft silence. The closet door is strangely small and the room is displayed nicely in the faint light of the streets. The gas heater starts its purring round in the living room. The modern sentinel is guarding the cold entrance of this genuine house that the polar realm has under siege.

We finally found a home for our family. I have a decent job. We found a midwife to assist us with the pregnancy. And we recently learned we’re having identical twins. The season has been generous with powder days. Our new lives are slowly shaping surrounded by pristine and magic.

A year passes. MGM is shooting a movie in Fernie. I told them I should spin fire for their party scene and somehow, they went for it. The days pass as I’m getting paid a ridiculous wage for presence only. But that night at 2am, I hear: “Hey fire guy, you’re up.”

5am. Yes! It’s the first night I performed and I did well, first take. On the way home there’s the smell of kerosene, the relief and the early morning’s quiet road. The colourful first rays take place on the highest peeks. There’s a dense belt of fog splitting the town lurking from Ridgemont like a spell. Unstoppable flow of thought and indescribable mood fill my mind. And I can’t stop smiling

Some days later I show up to work: the other job, the one from reality, with the uniform and all. A sense of doom and slavery strikes me. I don’t like this. I’ve got to reshape my days.

A few weeks pass. One day I come home to Alexandra who has figured out our future: “I’m going to help out pregnant women and you’re going to take the MAST program.” I said Ok.

Choices never require much of my time. Swift water, powder and countless skills…Ok!!
And this is how I got into Mountain Adventure.