chaoticsoul

Last week we went on one of our infamous camping trips. This time we went to Horse Creek Ranch in Fort Assiniboine. It’s two hours northwest of Edmonton. As usual, camping included the usual hyjinx of beer drinking, injury, near-death experiences, of course, and nearly getting kicked out.

As you can figure from the name, Horse Creek Ranch is mostly for horses and horseback riders. Most of the other people at the site brought mobile housing and horses with them. We were on a small section they set off for people with tents. The campsite is quiet nice. We thought he smell of the horse would have been bad, but we didn’t notice it.

Being city slickers, we’re not use to fences of the electrified variety especially when there is no sign advertising this fact. The fence managed to claim at least three victims. I think the score was 3-1 for the fence. Only one of us managed to touch the fence without getting shocked. We had one unwilling victim, one willing victim (only god knows why), and another who was a victim while trying to use a short cut, but I’m not gonna name any names.

It’s not a camping trip if we’re not on the brink of getting kicked out. Other bouts have been for stealing firewood from what we thought was an abandoned site, and causing a massive explosion just before the park ranger showed up. This time, certain individuals were being too noisy after quiet hour and keeping the riders up (they had to be up at 3:00 AM), but I’m not gonna name any names. Needless to say, they were annoyed, but the owner was pretty cool, and nicely told us to keep it quieter the next day. The owner, Siebe, was very understanding and kind. Even lent us an axe for the trip. The funny thing is that the next night, it was the riders that were keeping us up.

We learnt that hiking on a horse trail is bad idea. Lots of mud, lots of flies, and lots of walking, but we got a good view of the Athabasca River.

Every camp seems to get more dangerous. We always jokingly say that some is gonna die on one of our trips. We’ve had alcohol induced time travel. If you notice on the video from the previous trip, our friend, Ben, was within a few meters of one of our explosions. This time we were within a hair of that happening. One of our friends, not gonna name names, was found 15 km from our camp, and had to be picked up by one of the riders. I don’t know how they managed that, but that’s what happened. Not sure I want to go to the next camping trip since it looks like it’ll be the one where we bury someone. I kid. I kid. I hope.

Well, if someone dies, hopefully it’s an ironic, funny, and epic death that we can laugh about even through the tragedy. Anyway, you can visit these facebook albums for pics of us chillin’. Album 1 and Album 2. Hope to see everyone next trip.