Wild Northerner Magazine Winter 2018 | Page 63

I had just been run over by an ATV and was lying down face down in the snow.

I wasn’t exactly sure what happened or if I was hurt.

I was having the time of my life.

I was 16, and this was normal for me growing up on the farm in the wilderness of northern Ontario.

In the winter, our neighbours, Craig and Lee, hosted big bonfires on a pond on their property about half a kilometre from their house.

It was usually Saturday nights and my family got together with a few other families and we enjoyed the fire, drinks, hotdogs, music and stories.

One night, my brother Jay, took an ATV back to the house to get more pop. I thought it would be funny to run down the trail and wait and jump out and surprise him when he came back. I waited in a big pine tree until I saw the headlight of the ATV approaching. As soon as it passed I leaped out and grabbed Jay from behind. I was about to laugh because his face was quite startled. Then, I was on the ground, face first with lots of weight going over me. I could hear Jay and another person freaking out as they checked on me. Craig was following Jay in another ATV, but his headlight was burnt out. That’s why he was following so close and couldn’t stop when I jumped out in front of him to scare my brother. Somehow, I wasn’t injured except for a few bad bruises. The three of us had a good laugh about it.

Those winter pond parties were awesome because even after two decades they are still vivid in my mind. There would usually be about 12 to 15 of us. The fire would roar into the night sky, warming the coldest nights and our chilly bums.

We cleared off an area to skate and play hockey. Craig and Lee would bring out their guitars and take requests and everyone would join in and sing late into the night. We built benches out of logs and people huddled under thick blankets to keep toasty.

It was simple and meaningful.

Growing up on the farm with a bunch of other boys meant there was never a shortage of pure mayhem breaking out at any given time and point. This was the case in the winter when an older step-brother, Andy, would show up with his snow machine and give Jay and I rides on the “Crazy Train”. We attached a big tractor tire tube with about 50-feet of rope. Andy would hammer his Indy 500 and take us on one hell of a wild ride and try and knock us off the tube.

I can tell you, to this day, those rides were scarier than any ride I ever was on at an amusement park.

Andy would take a slalom course through old fence posts and bounce us off each one while going about 80-km/h. Jay and I had to leap from side to side to avoid major injury because when the tube hit a post it folded it nearly in half. It was terrifying and thrilling to the end.

Once, he raced us down the frozen creek. A bunch of ice broke in a section. He went back over it. I had fallen into a sitting position in the tube with my ass dragging on the ground. I hit a piece of ice that was sticking up like a battering ram and sent me flying about 10-feet in the air. It felt like my entire backside was on fire it hurt so much.

I can actually say I was surprised none or all of us weren’t killed in some form due to those reckless stunts and mayhem.

But damn it was fun.

That was our life on a farm in the bush in northern Ontario.

I had just been run over by an ATV and was lying down face down in the snow.

I wasn’t exactly sure what happened or if I was hurt.

I was having the time of my life.

I was 16, and this was normal for me growing up on the farm in the wilderness of northern Ontario.

In the winter, our neighbours, Craig and Lee, hosted big bonfires on a pond on their property about half a kilometre from their house.

It was usually Saturday nights and my family got together with a few other families and we enjoyed the fire, drinks, hotdogs, music and stories.

One night, my brother Jay, took an ATV back to the house to get more pop. I thought it would be funny to run down the trail and wait and jump out and surprise him when he came back. I waited in a big pine tree until I saw the headlight of the ATV approaching. As soon as it passed I leaped out and grabbed Jay from behind. I was about to laugh because his face was quite startled. Then, I was on the ground, face first with lots of weight going over me. I could hear Jay and another person freaking out as they checked on me. Craig was following Jay in another ATV, but his headlight was burnt out. That’s why he was following so close and couldn’t stop when I jumped out in front of him to scare my brother. Somehow, I wasn’t injured except for a few bad bruises. The three of us had a good laugh about it.

Those winter pond parties were awesome because even after two decades they are still vivid in my mind. There would usually be about 12 to 15 of us. The fire would roar into the night sky, warming the coldest nights and our chilly bums.

We cleared off an area to skate and play hockey. Craig and Lee would bring out their guitars and take requests and everyone would join in and sing late into the night. We built benches out of logs and people huddled under thick blankets to keep toasty.

It was simple and meaningful.

Growing up on the farm with a bunch of other boys meant there was never a shortage of pure mayhem breaking out at any given time and point. This was the case in the winter when an older step-brother, Andy, would show up with his snow machine and give Jay and I rides on the “Crazy Train”. We attached a big tractor tire tube with about 50-feet of rope. Andy would hammer his Indy 500 and take us on one hell of a wild ride and try and knock us off the tube.

I can tell you, to this day, those rides were scarier than any ride I ever was on at an amusement park.

Andy would take a slalom course through old fence posts and bounce us off each one while going about 80-km/h. Jay and I had to leap from side to side to avoid major injury because when the tube hit a post it folded it nearly in half. It was terrifying and thrilling to the end.

Once, he raced us down the frozen creek. A bunch of ice broke in a section. He went back over it. I had fallen into a sitting position in the tube with my ass dragging on the ground. I hit a piece of ice that was sticking up like a battering ram and sent me flying about 10-feet in the air. It felt like my entire backside was on fire it hurt so much.

I can actually say I was surprised none or all of us weren’t killed in some form due to those reckless stunts and mayhem.

But damn it was fun.

That was our life on a farm in the bush in northern Ontario.