R U S H
R o l l t h e B o n e s
Sometimes, Amnesia Lane
is a total trip...When I last played this at volume, I was soloing in an aluminium Grumman open canoe, accidently
liberated from a high court judge, on several occasions,
heading from Scotland to the South coast of England... & following burns into streams, lochs into lakes & abhainn into rivers. There was occasion to shadow the coastline 2 miles out at sea through the darklight, build clay ovens in river banks, snare animals, eat stray dogs, gutt illegal salmon from protected waters & saw trees to negotiate impasses on long forgotten canals West, through MoD land, eventually navigating into Wales & the Black Mountains. A few thousand miles without one visit to a local Coop. It's a legend of a story inside the local island enviroment. It ignited those artifacts strewn at the feet of mankinds base core, & brought further recognition to those same simple elements that empower the soul, overwriting seas of endless modern day pish...forever. In the worst moments, it was fun, in the best...it changed & challenged me. In mediocre moments, I hated anything more technological than a Swedish strike
& my side arm/knife. By the end of it all I could perform 10 Storm Rolls in 15 seconds & balance brace an 18ft metal canadian open hippo with great dexterity & solo E7. Wierder moments involved full on goose defence, the theft of a wheelbarrow, several random poultry murders, the taking of a sheep & hoofing it across a field at speed with 160 strawberries breakdancing in my jumper.
To cap it all, the SCU wanted to give me a few awards for what in reality, was a struggle, self-engineered to better know myself, my anger & irreverence...typical. I should of got an award for getting through those years, through death & empty shelled self-congratulating society. Like Forrest Gump, my answer was plain sighted: One day, & for no particular reason, I decided to go runniiiing...
Since then, I have covered at least 8,000 sea kayaking miles, often surviving off the land & shores, teaching in quiet form, big bad men with guns, since there is no need for shopping in society when you can shop in the wild & live healthier. It's not a great feat, unless you live in front of a TV, taxes, cars & societys conceptualization of the norm. Man the primate, is in danger of going asleep in front of all the toys he created to keep him awake...
If somebody ever writes an article on self sustainable kayaking I will probably die laughing since it's real title would arguably be, How I Didn't See a TV or Drive My Car For A Week...
Anyhoos...I was... intemperate in my youth....& my youth, is a long time leaving. I guess they call it spirit
after a certain age...It's strange how an album can reel you back to an acute moment of otherwise invisible life tapestry. Bloody kayakers aye...Now, where did I put that air guitar...
Why are we here? becuase we're here... roll the bones
Why does it happen? becuase it happens...roll the bones
Tools of the Traditional Trade - They stand fast against the misguided belief of buying the latest technology to up your survival rate & skill in the wild. Personally, I've never been able to chop a log, or gut a fish with an EPIRB...directly.