Adventures in Solitude: What Not to Wear to a Nude Potluck and Other Stories from Desolation Sound
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From Captain George Vancouver to Muriel "Curve of Time" Blanchet to Jim "Spilsbury's Coast" Spilsbury, visitors to Desolation Sound have left behind a trail of books endowing the area with a romantic aura that helps to make it British Columbia's most popular marine park. In this hilarious and captivating book, CBC personality Grant Lawrence adds a whole new chapter to the saga of this storied piece of BC coastline.
Young Grant's father bought a piece of land next to the park in the 1970s, just in time to encounter the gun-toting cougar lady, left-over hippies, outlaw bikers and an assortment of other characters. In those years Desolation Sound was a place where going to the neighbours' potluck meant being met with hugs from portly naked hippies and where Russell the Hermit's school of life (boating, fishing, and rock 'n' roll) was Grant's personal Enlightenment--an influence that would take him away from the coast to a life of music and journalism and eventually back again.
With rock band buddies and a few cases of beer in tow, an older, cooler Grant returns to regale us with tales of "going bush," the tempting dilemma of finding an unguarded grow-op, and his awkward struggle to convince a couple of visiting kayakers that he's a legit CBC radio host while sporting a wild beard and body wounds and gesticulating with a machete. With plenty of laugh-out-loud humour and inspired reverence, Adventures in Solitude delights us with the unique history of a place and the growth of a young man amidst the magic of Desolation Sound.
Blooms and the loggers. Imagining all those ghosts just spooked me even more. 67 On those many hikes, against the odds, I not only survived, but also absorbed Dad’s passionate lessons of the forest. He showed me animal tracks in the soft mud near the creek: raccoon, deer, bear, squirrel and other critters. The evidence of live animals large and small was nerve-rattling, but I quickly learned to identify several different footprints. Sometimes Dad would stop silently, mid-step, putting one hand
prior, the cabins at Desolation Sound were filled with Canadians who, for the most part, kept to themselves. Because the vertical shoreline prevented many neighbours from walking to each other’s cabins, summers would come and go with next-door neighbours sometimes never even seeing or talking to each other. Before Candy, neighbourhood aesthetics were almost non-existent; tidiness meant throwing all the empty beer cans into one big pile. On the flipside, Camp Candy was immaculate. Handy Candy was
Pursuit: Genus Edition, Twenty Questions, Scrabble, Risk, Boggle, Monopoly and other not-so-classic games such as Pass Out (an adult drinking game) and Name Burst!, a celebrity naming-game from the 1980s filled with of-themoment monikers such as J.R. Ewing, Kelly McGillis, Oliver North, Gary Hart and Shamu. We had puzzles featuring the Smurfs, E.T. and Asterix. My embarrassing outboard motor posters and Heather’s Archie cutouts were still pinned to our bedroom wall. It was all exactly the same.
onset of depression . . . A crippling realization that you are in fact alone and there is likely no one coming. You will have to make do by yourself. You can lie in bed as days and nights blend, or shake it off by getting in the boat and going into town, talking a mile-aminute once you finally reach the warmth of the Lund Pub. But in the winter in Desolation Sound, the days are grey and short, the nights long and black. The rains arrive in October and don’t fade away until March, with only a few
paranoid schizophrenic in desperate need of stabilizing medication. G.H. Bay, however, drew a different conclusion, reflective of the thinking of the day: Moonshine, or the moon itself, is ascribed the cause of the double tragedy. An empty bottle was found beside Johnson’s bunk. On the night of the shooting, one of the finest full moons that ever shone shed its placid beams upon Lund. The supposed effect of the moon on lunatics is well known. During the inquest, Frank Gustafson testified that