Memories from the weekend;

This was to be a special weekend, and with Mowbs at the helm,  we were pretty assured of an event that would live up to  expectations.    And so it was….

Starting at Caledon Mountain Trout Club were Mowbs,  Boomer ,  Scotty M,  Beaups, Cruiser,  Guy, and  you ever faithful scribe.   We knew this would be good, because Mowbs has a knack for talking his way into some sweet clubs (thinking golf, skiing here),  but  we weren’t sure of what to expect knowing jacket and tie were mandatory for our 7:30pm dinner hour.   Some of us hadn’t had a tie on since the last Asshole wedding, so …

However, driving up to this impressive mansion put to rest any reservation.  Very impressive.  And the virtues of maintaining tradition  became even more evident  once we learned that each member of this all men’s club had their own dedicated booze locker:  and  all we needed to do was wave a hand and Tim, our dedicated server for the night, would go to Mowbie’s  private stash and make up whatever was your fancy.  After a pleasant dinner, more drinks and smokes were had on the terrace, while heated debates raged about the value of certain charities  and whether Guy, given his extreme state of inebriation would dry out sufficiently to be able drive Paul’s $100k+ M6 back to Toronto.

After breakfast featuring more ties and jackets, Friday morning was about fly fishing, with intro lessons  from mowbs.  It was raining pretty steadily and with nothing caught, interest was waning, plus some were getting tired of dodging some poorly cast flies.  Until mowbs hooked one – the first of three – and that got a few of the lads back to the pond.  Cookie arrived right around this time, meeting a few of the drenched ones in one of the Club’s sitting rooms where  coffee (and heat) had just been served. 

Afternoon golf was looking pretty unlikely and so it was decided to head to Collingwood for a leisurely lunch instead.  Afterwards, it was back to the AOTW Clubhouse for skinny hillybillys and later some of that rainbow trout + hotdogs on the bbq.  The traditional bonfire got underway where Scotty M had two Christmas trees awaiting his attention – again a good planning move -  while a few of the heavy drinkers snoozed on the couch,  a foreshadowing of votes to come.   Freud,  Gary, and Dee arrived over the course of the evening, competing the cast of Assholes for this year’s event.   At midnight,  after 4 hours of sleep on the couch, Steve made an executive decision, based on some careful  forecasting of which option was least painful,  to saddle up  and drive  home in order to catch his son’s all star try-out the next morning.  The intent  was to join us the next day,  mid way through our feature event of the weekend. 

Saturday mid morning, after breakfast we jumped in the cars and headed to Blue Mountain Resort for the start of our main event, The Amazing Race.  Three teams were created, and after a mandatory presentation of team spirit (or vulgarity if you were a event organizer or spectator), we all headed out on our first challenge of the day.   These included:  Roller coaster type rides,  scavenger hunts,  brain teasers, and  something reminiscent of  Twister.  Ability to ride a bicycle and read maps were also part of this morning phase.   For some this much cerebral energy was draining,  but nothing like what was in store for the afternoon.

After lunch and some fudging of the score sheets, it was back into the cars for  a bit of a drive outside of town for the start of Round 2.  This  would prove to be more a test of nerve, flexibility & waist size (cave),  quality shoes , freakish finger grip (rock climbing) and faith  (repelling).    It is notable that only three of us  completed all three of these challenges.  Mowbs was NOT one of the three and we know he hates to lose, so it is fair to conclude, since he often stacks the deck in his favour,  that even he was unprepared for some Amazing  Challenges, including the last one…

A food eating contest.   No,  not something civilized like a hotdog eating contest, but more in the vein of the gross and indecent, the sickest challenge  arguably involving dog food.  And while yours truly managed to scarf down said dog chow the fastest – in part because I have dog ownership on my resume - the winning team  was  called ……………………, its members being…………………………….. 

It was time to head back to base camp for relaxation and heavy refreshments, only to find that  Doug our chef for the night  was on the case, preparing the evening’s feast.  Mowbs was showing he has lost none of organizational prowess, something this year’s winner will be compared to, although we are not too worried because it’s what he does for a living…and he drives  Mercedes, so…but I’m  getting ahead of myself,  because there was this  nice lady named Chrisy who served us drinks for several  hours while dinner  was in the works.  Following the feast – various meats being the core offering, not surprising since the catering company is called Men with Knives, not Women with Tofu Sticks - it was back to the fire pit for some rehashing of life’s more recent epiphanies , the couch for others (a sure sign of being firmly in our 50’s).   A half chord of firewood later, and as the appetite for more hillbilly’s waned,  the ranks started to thin  and soon it was lights out as we headed into the final day. 

Breakfast the next morning was a leisurely affair, as we have learned to be less optimistic about early starts to any activity, especially one as frustrating as golf.  Fortunately for the writer it was over quickly, with Floyd, Cookie and Cruiser getting the job done in the least number of whacks, ending with  trophy  raised.

And so it was back to the clubhouse for the vote, with Cookie winning fairly handily:  7 of 11 votes.  Although the rationale was never discussed in a public forum,  my sources tell me it was a combination of being a good dad (ducking out for 16 hours for a hockey game back home) and simply being a good organizer whose turn had arrived.

And so there we have it:  AOTW 30 is in the books, “quite something” as most outsiders say upon  learning of this annual ritual.  And that it is:  Even though we’ve all gone out separate ways, we manage to keep this great tradition alive.   A huge thanks to the generous and always well organized mowbs who put on a great weekend.  Steve, over to you!

Attendees:

Cruiser, Cookie, Harps, Boomer, Deano, Dinesy, Beaups, Daryl, Freud, Guy, Mowbs 

Video Of the weekend

Photos of the weekend;

Bigger than the Stanley Cup