Remember That Time?

Note: This article is hosted here for archival purposes only. It does not necessarily represent the values of the Iron Warrior or Waterloo Engineering Society in the present day.

Howdy Sexy Readers!

When we last left each other I was far off in the midst of a frozen tundra-esque lake deep in the heart of northern Canada. It was a cold and lonesome road of hewn trees felled by the mighty axe strokes of the legendary Mountain Man of the north, whom I had set out to find and court his wisdom. I have heard tales of his glorious log cabin atop the highest mountain in the land.

I am going on a lumberjack hunt. But I’m not scared. I come to a mountain. Can’t go around it, can’t go under it, can’t go through it, have to go up it. And so I climbed the mountain with only my wits and some pine trees about me.

Looking up the mountain ahead I saw a winding path leading to a tall cliff. Atop the cliff, was another cliff, and above that was lost in the mists of the clouds because really, I don’t have super-vision.  The winding path was rocky and old, almost like boxer I had once known. It took me 2 days to climb to the summit of this bunny hill. Once I had reached the end of the path, it opened into a frozen ice hockey rink where a single goalie waited. “You must score to ascend to the next level” he said.  Unawares that I would have to be playing hockey, and wondering how long the guy had been standing around in hockey gear waiting for someone to come along, I quickly snapped a shot into the net. “Chad Sexington always scores, just ask the ladies in my fan club,” I replied, and I set myself to the task of ascending the icy cliffs behind him.

Many hours later, after climbing nearly all the way to the top of the first cliff. I stopped for a cup of tea. Indeed, what is better than a cup of tea while ascending what appears to be the highest mountain in the world? How I boiled the water you will have only to guess, as it is a secret of lumberjacks worldwide but it involves a penguin. “Where is this place?” I asked the man waiting over the lip of the cliff top (as you might have guessed, this is going to become a trend).  “It is over 9000 feet up,” he replied. “But you must climb yet further before you will reach the Mountain Man.  I have no especially difficult task for you because it’s my day off, but I must ask you if you want to continue on this trek. It is not too late to turn back now, and take up a different life.” “Nay,” said I, because today was the day of sounding like an old-timey guy, “I shall continue in my quest for Camelot, I mean, the Mountain Man.”

Ascending the next portion of the cliff was especially difficult. In fact, it was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. There were blizzards, and lizards, and hurricane gales. There were landslides and log rides and large humpback whales. At some points I thought that I was going downwards and back, then I paused for a moment and ate a small snack.  Back to the wall, I climbed for some time, and then came the end of the rhyming cliff-climb.

Pulling myself over the final ledge and into the mists at the top of the mountain, a third person awaited. A fair maiden who would surely be the downfall of any soul that failed to resist her charms. It would take many years of experience in the ways of the ultimate manliness to move past this final test and she knew it to be true.  To her dismay, it was the Chad who had climbed up the mountain this day, and knowing her not to be of Sicilian descent, he was not afraid of her next statement. “You must defeat me in a battle of wits!” she claimed, and so the games began. Two nights later she lost to the gentleman who had ascended thus far. “Checkmate!” I called and we shook hands goodbye. “Come back any day Chad,” she said with a sigh (one more for the fan club today wondered I).

Behind the next cloud bank, I saw an escalator with a sign next to it. “NO RHYMING” and right below it: “This way to the Mountain Man” suggested an arrowed indicator. Who was I to disagree this far into a narrative? I boarded the stairs.

I have come far to find the legendary Mountain Man and I shall not turn back until his wisdom is ours. Good things come to those who persevere. Remember kids, there is a metaphor for this story, so hopefully it’s got you thinking.

Until next time,

Stay Sexy

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