Scooter racing

Scooter racing
After parking for the night, we'll still have time for a little racing

Monday, 22 July 2013


It is with a very heavy heart that I have to report that Prince Porketta lost his long battle with pulmonary fibrosis today.  He was my brother and he was a good, good man.  He had a terrific sense of humor, and he had a huge heart - he truly cared about his family, friends, and co-workers.  Although his disease put him through hell, he never complained.  His standard answer to any question about his health was "I'm good". 

From childhood, he had a thirst for adventure and his first reaction to any suggestion was "let's go".  He would lead me into trouble (ummm....adventures) - everything from bidding on (and almost buying) a calf at an auction, to jumping off the roof of a barn and spraining both ankles, to hiking miles from home without telling our parents (we didn't sit for a week after the searchers found us - a well-deserved spanking!).  He was the first kid on the block to own a motorcycle - and the first one to crash it.  He took up skydiving and only quit because he had emergencies 2 out of the 3 times he jumped….. he was adventurous, but he was no fool. 

 The Prince is the reason I bought the Beast.  We had often talked about RV ownership but, other than looking at them, I hadn't thought seriously  about it.  Then, when his health deteriorated after his Vegas adventure, he told me he'd always wanted to see Mount Rushmore.  So I told him I'd buy a motorhome and take him, if he'd show me how to drive the thing.  And that was the start of last summer's adventure.  His doctor told him it was a bad idea….. but the Prince just said "let's go", which is exactly what we did.   We had so much fun that, again defying his doctor, he and his family decided to go back the way we came in September!  This summer, we planned the Tour D'Ont - a 2 week tour of eastern Ontario which led us to the areas our ancestors called home before moving to Markstay.  He didn't even tell his doctor about that one!  In between these trips, he also headed to Florida every winter for "spring training" (i.e. sitting by the pool with a cool adult beverage).

 We had a ritual.  When we arrived at a campground, he would put down the jacks and get the slides out.  I would go out and hook up the electricity and water.  He would then come out with 2 cans of beer and we would make a toast to our location.

So, Prince, I continued the ritual tonight.  Just because you got to the destination first is no reason to mess with tradition.  Here's to you, little brother.  I will miss you forever.  Thank you for everything!






Saturday, 6 July 2013

A Little Close to Home

There are times when I have thought it would be nice to simplify and go back to camping in a tent.  Not today, though!  My friends Mike and Louise are camped across the street from me.  This morning, Mike was outside enjoying his coffee when a large black bear wandered onto his campsite.  The bear apparently didn't see Mike because he got within arm's reach of him!  At first Mike froze, but when the bear kept coming, he started to yell.  Instead of running away, the bear actually stepped closer.  Mike said he was so close he could have smacked him on the snout.  By this point, Mike was heading for the door to his camper.  The bear moseyed away towards the beach and wound up scaring the heck out of other campers further up the road.  The rangers have spotted 6 bears in the campgrounds so far and there were 13 sightings today alone. 

On further reflection, simplifying doesn't sound like such a good idea.  I'm sticking with the Beast!