Just found this picture from 1996. I was renting a house/apartment right beside my parents. My dad used to show up on week-ends, drunk and try and kick me out as if it were his house. I was probably calling my mom to get him the hell out of there! Funny, I used to love wearing watches. Once I began a career in the construction trades, I stopped wearing them because they'd break inside sheet-rock walls or sharp dark bays.

Me and Martin in Montreal, 95. I believe this is the facade of his mother's apartment. This was a rest stop on our (me, Dano and Martin) tour through Quebec and other northern towns, including Lac St. Jean. It was an incredible adventure. Sadly my journal of it has been lost.

Me and Dano drove to Montreal to meet Martin and from there we traveled to Trois-Rivieres; from there
( we followed the Saint Lawrence River) we hit Quebec City and Saint Anselme. Next we spent a night on a little island off the Saint Lawrence River, staying at a comfortable bed and breakfast (run by two old folks who showed us nothing but hospitality). Can't remember the name of island. Further research. From there, we broke from the river and headed north north west where at one point we had to ferry across a lake to continue on the road, Route 381. We stayed in Tadoussac, Saguenay and then crossed the Saguenay River. At this point we are long gone from the English speaking Canadians of Montreal and Quebec City and I find myself trying madly to recall my French lessons in high school to a small measure of success. So then we came to huge Lac Saint-Jean. We drove around it, staying at Dolbeau, Roberval and Chambord (I think). From there, we headed directly south on Route 155, back to Trois Rivieres so Martin could go to his college graduation party. Well, me and Dano went too and despite our being a little under dressed (neither of us planned on going to the party) no one seemed to mind as we had just spent about two weeks on the road.

https://www.google.com/maps/@47.1398885,-70.9160299,7z

Dave, Dawn, Kyle, Ciz, Christine 95 in front of my parent's house.

Waimea Bay 1999. January 1st after a night of New Year's fireworks and revelry with our neighbors. And to wake up the next day to these monsters was awesome. I drove down to the beach alone (Robin was too hungover) and the waves were so big that they fired up the Eddie Would Go surf tournament-- a tournament they only run when waves are 25 feet or over.