Derrick Coyle
The weather in Ontario this year, has by most accounts, been reminiscent of the ‘good old’ Canadian winters past. I won’t pretend to embrace biting cold and blinding snow squalls completely, but from the comfort of the family room with a crackling fire, and the Sochi Olympics beaming down from the big screen above it, I do have warm memories of events from a few decades ago, and what was affectionately known as the Winter Wassail (aka – The Coylian Cottage Caper).
Opening Ceremonies: DC, Sue, JC, Andrea
For 10 consecutive years, beginning in February 1979, I hosted a weekend of winter mayhem at the parents’ cottage on the Trent River, near Campbellford. The co-ed guest collection grew from a dozen work mates in the first year, to 20 or so colleagues, friends, and family in annual installments over the next decade. It was invariably a weekend highlighted by outdoor activities, but also featured a few indoor events of a more cerebral bent. As the years passed, an elaborate “Young’ns” versus “Oldsters” competitive schedule evolved.
Super G: Brian
Ice Dance: Tracey & Sue
The weekend would start with the customary clearing of a river ice rink on the arrival of the first group, Friday evening. This preparatory exercise was usually completed about the same time as the large vessel of Amaretto, fuelling the effort. Not unlike the Winter Olympics currently underway, there would be Hockey and Ice Dance competitions, come the light of day. A suitable rink was imperative.
Just a short trip away was a snow covered hill which served nicely as the site of Super G and other alpine events. The cross-country ski trail meandered through hills and bush, as well as open air tracks along the frozen river. While not yet adopted as an official Winter Olympic event, Frozen-river Nerf Football was one of the showcase competitions at the annual Wassail games.
In the evenings, with athletes stuffed into the small cottage and the fully approved oil burner blazing, there would traditionally be a Scrabble tournament with a set of creative rules and predetermined themes governing the acceptability of word entries. At some stage in the 10-year run, the popular board game, Trivial Pursuit, also became part of the mind-exercising portion of the program.
Wassail Village: DC & Tom
Similar to the Winter Olympics, there was an entertainment component. In this case, in the form of mediocre to poor guitar play and vocals by a couple of struggling artists. This agenda item usually came to an abrupt conclusion after profuse heckling and the inevitable threat of the entertainers being hurled from the premises into an adjacent snowbank.
Analysis:- Fraze & JC
The award ceremonies for the Winter Wassail games never involved medals. The rewards of these games was a year of bragging rights for the victorious team. In retrospect, the Young – Old distinction is almost comical given the respective age separation, for a group largely in their 20’s, was just a few years. Nevertheless, there was considerable honour at stake, and the results were meticulously tracked with Bristol board scoring technology – affixed and conveniently accessible on the front of the Frigidaire.
“Puttin’ on the Ritz”
A good part of the fun was in actually assembling a group of good friends in the heart of winter. Much in the style of the annual Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous Festival – when the community emerges from the cold and dark to reunite and celebrate at winter’s apex – it was a perfect time for friends to enjoy the company of each other in the winter elements with which we find ourselves for a few months each year. The weekend was never without a little horseplay and there was always some danger in being ‘first man down’ at the end of a tiring day. One participant found out – in an exhibition of astonishing precision and balance – there was more than a health impact to smoking.
Alpine: Tom, DC, Wells, Brian, Fraze, Gary, Ron, Norm
Bud & Mary
Winters seemed more tolerable in the days of the February get together and the active participation in one Canada’s great gifts of diversity. These days, the target event pulling me through the winter, usually involves some southern destination plan designed to extricate me from it. Unless it’s an Olympic year and I can resurrect a few pleasant memories from the past through the exceptional performances of athletes from the present.
… In front of a crackling fire, of course.
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