For some reason we didn't check the weather
So we were a little unprepared for the downpour mother nature gave us for the entire first night of our camping excursion. We set up the tarp in the rain, we started the fire in the rain, we cooked bratwursts in the rain, we set up the tents and for some reason left them in the rain and not underneath the tarp.
After about 10 beers and 4 bratwursts I was feeling the need to lay down. I unzipped the tent and to my naive surprise it was filled with about two inches of rain water.
Luckily we had some family friends staying in a cabin nearby so we left our campsite and immediately headed there. As I was driving in the pouring rain I kept thinking that when we got to our friend's cabin there would be a roaring fire in the fireplace, a bear skin rug, warm cornbread, and fluffy pillows to rest our heads. None of that ended up being true, in fact no one was home and we waited in the hot car until someone arrived. Eventually we went to sleep in the stuffy attic of the cabin listening to the rain fall on the tin roof. That was night one.
Nothing is better than cooking bratwursts on the side of the road
Day two ended up being a nice day. We took a scenic drive up to Lake Placid, really taking in the pureness of the Adirondacks. On the way up we pulled over to the side of the road next to huge rocky cliffs that reflected into a small lake and cooked some bratwursts on the portable gas stove. It was pretty beautiful.
On the way back less than a mile from the campsite we saw our good friend John Christian Hageny driving down the street. We stopped and he said, "Who wants to go to Montreal?!?!" We should have seriously discussed this proposition before we gave him answer. Instead I replied with, "I have 30 beers in a cooler."
Modest Mouse, Montreal, Mets, Mayhem
Next thing I knew we were heading up to the North Country, drinking Busch-Light out of plastic Buffalo Bison cups listening to Modest Mouse's 'Float On' on repeat. We cut the huge line at the toll booths at the border by following a log truck around the traffic. You have to stop at the border and answer random questions from the border patrol (ie: why are you crossing the border, how many of you, etc). The patrolman asked, "Do you have any alcohol you are bringing over the border?" Silly man, what else would be drinking out of Buffalo Bison cups? We replied with a polite, "No sir."
I've been to Montreal a few times over the years, mainly as day trips from the lake to see an Expos game, so I thought this was no different. I had no idea what we were in for when we entered the unusually quiet dome to see the Mets take on the Expos. (It was unusually quiet for a NY baseball game, but we were in Canada and no one cheers for anything. I've seen people at Expos games catch foul balls and quietly sit back down in their seat like nothing happened. Oh and by the way this was the last season the Expos were in Montreal).
As soon as the game started we immediately began being belligerent. Tony, the Schroon Lake local that John Christian befriended at the local bar a couple of days ago, was the most belligerent. He was banging seat, screaming at French people, throwing anythng he could get his hands on. He kept pointing and yelling at the French dude across the asile from him. This guy had the goatee and everything, he was so French. And Tony is just yelling at him literally after anything positive happens for the Mets (strikes, hits, etc).
Then we started with the "Puerto-Rico" chants (the Expos were rumored to be moving to Puerto Rico before they became the Washington Nationals). I don't think any of those Canadians had any idea what we were talking about. The Mets ended up losing and that French dude walked up to Tony sitted defeated in his seat and just started doing that dance where you move your extended arms in front of you in a circular motion (forget what that's called) just laughing at him in French.
Downtown Montreal
So we headed down town to get a bite and find something to do for the night. We hit up Subway and afterwards we were just chilling outside the Subway watching all the crazy characters running around. There were a lot of biker dudes and a lot of 70's punk types with ripped leather jackets, mohwaks, etc. It quite the demographic.
Then the prostitutes started working the streets. Two younger, and somewhat (minus the whole prostitute thing) attractive prostitutes came up to us trying to turn a trick. We were talking to them outside Subway for a while, just asking them about random things like what sports they play, if they speak French and English, etc. They started to get a little impatient with us being that were were asking them idiotic questions that had nothing to do with their profession. Then Garger says to one, "You know, you're a smart attractive girl. You can be doing so much more than working the streets." He seriously wanted to bring her home and just show her a better life. Is that too much to ask. They just ended up walking away after that.
Later that night John Christian got lost in some strip club and left us out on the street to fend for ourselves, with Tony. We walked around for a while, but ended up sitting in the car waiting for John. Between the prostitutes and the punks we were literally scared for our lives. Tony didn't give a shit, he was still yelling at people about the Expos.
Don't mess with hobos
So Nick, Garger and I were passed out in John's car parked in the middle of downtown Montreal. John was in a strip club and Tony was running around the streets.
We were parked next to a pizza place and there was a young 70's punk hobo sitting in front of entrance. Every time someone walked into the pizza place the punk hobo would grab on to their legs and scream at them to give him money. If they pushed him off or kept walking he would yell even louder and throw garbage at them. He was doing this to literally everyone would walk into this busy pizza place. It was a scene man.
After a while Tony came back to the car and started shaking it. I thought some punks were stealing the car at first. Then I saw Tony's face, "Open the door, I have to piss." I didn't understand why he needed us to unlock the car door so he could piss. "Go in that pizza place you nut," I said from inside the car.
As he was walking into the pizza place the young punk hobo started grabbing him begging for change. Tony kicked him off and then the kid came back and grabbed his legs. Tony kicked him off again and then kicked the kid's entire pile of change he gathered there on the sidewalk. Loonies (Canadian coins) went flying all over the sidewalk and into the street and the kid went nuts. He started screaming in French and ran at Tony. Tony just lifted his fist as to punch this kid's lights out and the kid screamed and ran down the street.
After a few minutes the kid came back and gathered some of the change he could find and sat in the very same spot in front of the pizza place. He was still begging people as walked in or out. So I see Tony come towards the exit. "Oh shit, here comes Tony," I said to Garger and Nick. Tony opened the door, saw the kid sitting there with his small pile of change and kicked his change all over the street again. The punk hobo flipped out even more extreme than before by pulling his own pants down and running towards John's car as Tony tried to get in. Tony then began to chance the hobo kid and the kid just took off. Tony got in the car and we were just cracking up at what just occurred. We saw a punk hobo's French Canadian ass.
A few minutes pass and the kid comes back to the car with his entire junk in his hand just waving it at Tony through the window. Tony quickly got out and chased the kid away for good. Make that a punk hobo's French Canadian ass and junk.
John Christian came back 50 bucks poorer and we headed back to America. Never will I go to Montreal ever again. We should have known things were going to be out of hand when we followed a log truck across the border.
"Screw you hobo!"
(picture not taken in Montreal)
