Archive for the Trippin` Category

Atl-iens Norte by East

Posted in Trippin` on July 8, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA

Drawn to that right coast like a club to a baby seal’s head.


still thanking our mother’s

Posted in Trippin` on May 17, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA

speed blurs, no photos and little memory exist from the friday treadmill sessions, so here is a saturday/sunday snippet

all photos by Lily

Never sail on a Friday

Posted in Trippin`, Uncategorized on May 16, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA

Chief Feathers summoned the other savages with a 12PM smoke signal. No, not the same smoke signals affecting the White Man’s tunnel transportation system. After much humming and hawing, it was agreed the wagon would part around 7PM to avoid speed detection by White Man with speed gun. A brick of Bud, Robaxacet, Life Brand flavoured nuts, 12 mix ‘n match sandwiches and quinoa salad are a modern tribe’s munch’ems.

Smoke Signal Rcvd: “We are in low and conditions look good. I am touring and you will arrive in perfect timing. HASTA PRONTO!%-”

Pow Wow No. 1:
*Marinated pork tenderloin
*Honey garlic sausages
*Garrison Bitter
*Philly cheese infused BBQ’d Sweet Pot’s
*Butter n Bacon fried mushies
*Sante Fe salad

Pow Wow No. 2:
*Langosta Parmesan dip
*Langosta a la sabor Peruana
*Mission Hill Pinot Grigio
*Arroz perfecta!
*Philly cheese infused BBQ’d Sweet Pot’s again
*Jost NS Port for dessert

With waves nearly as fun as the pow wow’s and time spent with El Ray y familia, we certainly thanked our mother’s for allowing the trip to transpire.

Scribbles from Aminata Diallo’s March Diary

Posted in Trippin` on March 8, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA

Unfortunately, you can’t leave your car in a heated garage and assume the lovely perfume of 2L of spilt almond milk will just vanish.

Intoxicated by vivid memories of reeling left and right handers, we deceived oversized baggage employees, scored the red loungers and even lucked out with rocking chairs to tough out the wait. The wait of two broken planes and flight attendants vraiment en crisse en tabaranac! A reward of all-you-can-drink pound Tanqueray seemed like a good idea at the time, but comboed with Mexican happy pills, the fog never seemed so thick. Oliver, heading to post-Sandinista sand points avoided the swill, but also had to deal with 2hrs of sleep before heading back to YUL. Perhaps not in a fog, but definitely a haze.

“I’m going down to [Nica] And get some sand in my shoes… I’ll ride that Orange Blossom Special And lose these [Mtl] blues.”

Fall asleep listening to pre-programmed piano (unlikely it was Brahms) and awaken to a live harp concerto. If this is what a siesta at the B. Niche entails every day, that is something one could get accustomed to. There are of course, innumerable lessons to be learnt passing time with El Ray. A proper marinara, to start and how to choose yuca at the market. Notes diligently taken.

Some scraggly California kid riding an Elder shape – WTF? Private school teachers with style for days, taking Friday afternoon off to profiter en masse! That’s an educator worth learning from.

Txt Rcvd: “car is rented, I got an Isuzu Rodeo.”

Txt Rcvd: “ABRAZO!!”

Ever gracious hosts with a perpetually coldie-filled fridge and Nutella-stocked cupboard.

Ah, New Hampshire, the Granite State.

mid-winter’s plight of the surf starved river sufferer

Posted in Trippin` on February 29, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA

There forms a sort of vortex in the middle of a snowstorm where headlights hamper any sense of direction at the same time nearly hypnotizing you like the opening credits of CJ Parker running in Baywatch. Consequentially, you drive 40km/h, happy that it’s a two lane road, but wishing for some sort of safety net on either side of the snow bank and guard rail.

You fidget, wipe your face frantically, open the window, drink Red Bull, eat pineapple, any-thing, anything to stay alert, but the hum of Japanese death trap construction just lulls you further into comatose.

One 360 degree spin to stall in the middle of the road is lucky. Especially in Friday night traffic. A second 360 degree spin through an inch of snow, topped with an inch of water is just scary. Thankfully, the good folks of road construction design think of these guard rail things. Strategically placed at that!

But what the good folks of guard rail construction don’t think of is such concepts as the Size Keeper™. We’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks on that one, but let’s just say it evolved from the Rapo think tank of winter surfing problems in need of solutions. Smart guys down at Rapo and I heard they make killer brie and mushroom omelets, to boot.

Saturday driving tours are the norm after the belly has been filled and we roll 4 deep. People hate that. I hate that. But it is what it is just like sideshore chop is not afternoon glass. So it goes in a mid-winter storm. At least there are friendly faces and relocated locals to hang with.

Red wine, Propeller bitter, Philly Cheese steak pizza and a bacon salad, with Caesar dressing and romaine lettuce – that is all I remember before drifting off into the deep deep end.

Gettin’ er done, Mtl style, near surf city, Tofino ainnit?

THEM terrorists

Posted in Trippin` on January 31, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA

“The only way to render a word meaningless is to overuse it.” L’Anglais

We came, as terrorists, to the land of cheap smokes, CB radio, bingo, AC/DC and Pil. The internet confirms other less obvious suspicions; that being, at one time pec was THE MECCA of canning in Canada and still a fine place to find ‘Million Dollar Relish’. “Probably get your photo in the paper, paddling out down that way. A right at Mac’s Milk, then hook a left after passing the liquor store” said Marv(real name Fred), who also entertained with personal best ski speed records and 120 foot ragdoll crashes, high(literally) in The Rockies. “I know Marv was lying about the directions, cuz with that nose and that facial capillary damage, he NEVER passes a liquor store” cautioned L’Anglais.

We flew, as terrorists often do, through cottage country to Punta Salmonero, gracias fellow river sufferer. Disobeying private property signs, laws and obvious non-Mohawk land claims, as terrorists often do, we observed wind slop and limestone slabs. Cold, burly, sketchy and wonky immediately came to mind, along with thoughts of locals capping terrorists with shotgun blasts. Bang! Bang! But, in the true spirit of terrorists, seeking lofty goals, we trudged on to more geographically promising points. “Ha, glad I didn’t bring my shovel, waste of space, didn’t think we be digging out of too many snow banks.”  Minutes later arrived the great blizzard of 2012 and subsequently, the driving was replaced by actual trudging and we spun like Dorothy back to the original spot.

Beer, bbq and cross border navigation(as terrorists often fly) followed, until we were back in the land of the FLQ, spreading propaganda and chaos, generally. For Sludge Soda bubbles, boils and thrives like Gremlins in a culture of conservatism and fear, generally.

Amphib Recon: Portugal

Posted in Trippin` on January 10, 2012 by SLUDGE SODA