Where do the geeks drink?

"You’ll drink whatever the hell I tell you to drink."

The bartender grins as she leans over the taps to chastise me. She isn’t sheepish – rather, she maintains an air of authority as she finishes filling a glass with an adjacent beer to the Nickelbrook variety I had requested. My neighbour, who seems better acquainted with the bartender than, I leans over. “You’d better just drink it, I think she’s in a mood,” he suggests with a knowing smirk, although the bartender is already filling a glass from the correct tap.

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Summers lost

Late August always felt like the Sundays of the school year.  The lake grew choppy and grey, as though in perpetual preparation for the storms that grew increasingly common.  Indoor spaces claimed more camp days, subjecting us to arts and crafts, and group activities in place of sailing and dodge-ball.

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You sometimes forget how to ride a bike

The start/end point for the jump lines is a raised plateau between Gardiner Expressway and Lakeshore Boulevard West. A steep, smooth hill takes the rider down to the jump lines. Last time we rode Sunnyside, an overabundance of speed took me two metres past the landing ramp of the small tabletop, sending me face-first into the dirt at an uncomfortable velocity.

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FeaturesJosh CupitFeatures
The pace of things

The ride to the top of the island had taken me 300 metres above the town at sea level. Steep and unyielding, the climb dragged my out-of-shape body through a tapestry of browns and greens.  The trees were at once familiar and foreign, creating a high canopy above the earthy, rocky trail.

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Get out of the left lane!

Known by most for his role in the show Motoring TV or the many publications that print his articles, Kenzie is one of Canada’s top automotive journalists.  It should come as no surprise that he has an extensive racing resume, or that he helped create the Targa Newfoundland rally, but few would guess that 43 years ago he was teaching data processing and systems design at Ryerson University.

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The science of cows

At the far end of the Ricoh Coliseum, past the vendors and the petting zoo, hundreds of cows stand, sleep, eat or wander to sheering stations while onlookers of every age take pictures and mutter about the smell. Farmers quietly turn over the hay with pitchforks, or chat around the many radios playing everything from top ten hits to hair metal.

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ReportingJosh CupitReporting