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Gold/Mining/Energy : Winspear Resources -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Walt who wrote (4682)	1/2/1998 2:49:00 AM
From: skelly	Respond to of 26850

Walt: I personally prefer to stay ignorant of "what I'm missing". How long is your golf season? Cheers

To: Walt who wrote (4682)	1/2/1998 5:50:00 AM
From: marcos	Respond to of 26850

Walt, I'm from much warmer climes, as you know, but a few years ago I had a new pickup and decided to escape my current ruts right after Christmas, about the 26th or 27th. Got in the truck and drove north to Prince Rupert, with some side trips, then on the way back about the middle of Jan picked up a hitch-hiker and took him to his parent's ranch about an hour of gravel road north of Smithers. They had a spare room with a bed, but after some refreshments and perhaps some recreational pharmaceuticals I insisted on sleeping on the porch sofa in my new Artic sleeping bag. It was about 25 below, maybe six inches of dry snow on the ground, no wind, and totally, absolutely, sparkling clear. The stars seemed like you could reach out and touch them, and the Aurora Borealis was putting on quite a show, actually that was the original attraction to sleeping outside. I have never known clarity of vision like that before or since, and the feeling of comfortable peace, of a world sleeping, patiently awaiting spring, is not one I'll forget. We'd like to see the North in both winter and summer before long. .........the lack of mango trees notwithstanding -g- .......... cheers .................... macros

To: Walt who wrote (4682)	1/2/1998 12:08:00 PM
From: Bearcatbob	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 26850

Walt, We have had -20F in clevland and it is cold. Everything stops. Nothing starts. (-40C?). Bob

To: Walt who wrote (4682)	1/2/1998 6:25:00 PM
From: marcos	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 26850

I bet you know this one armory.com ....it's from armory.com "The Spell of the Yukon I wanted the gold, and I sought it, I scrabbled and mucked like a slave. Was it famine or scurvy -- I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave. I wanted the gold, and I got it -- Came out with a fortune last fall, -- Yet somehow life's not what I thought it, And somehow the gold isn't all. No! There's the land. (Have you seen it?) It's the cussedest land that I know, From the big, dizzy mountains that screen it To the deep, deathlike valleys below. Some say God was tired when He made it; Some say it's a fine land to shun; Maybe; but there's some as would trade it For no land on earth -- and I'm one. You come to get rich (damned good reason); You feel like an exile at first; You hate it like hell for a season, And then you are worse than the worst. It grips you like some kinds of sinning; It twists you from foe to a friend; It seems it's been since the beginning; It seems it will be to the end. I've stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow That's plumb-full of hush to the brim; I've watched the big, husky sun wallow In crimson and gold, and grow dim, Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming, And the stars tumbled out, neck and crop; And I've thought that I surely was dreaming, With the peace o' the world piled on top. The summer -- no sweeter was ever; The sunshiny woods all athrill; The grayling aleap in the river, The bighorn asleep on the hill. The strong life that never knows harness; The wilds where the caribou call; The freshness, the freedom, the farness -- O God! how I'm stuck on it all. The winter! the brightness that blinds you, The white land locked tight as a drum, The cold fear that follows and finds you, The silence that bludgeons you dumb. The snows that are older than history, The woods where the weird shadows slant; The stillness, the moonlight, the mystery, I've bade 'em good-by -- but I can't. There's a land where the mountains are nameless, And the rivers all run God knows where; There are lives that are erring and aimless, And deaths that just hang by a hair; There are hardships that nobody reckons; There are valleys unpeopled and still; There's a land -- oh, it beckons and beckons, And I want to go back -- and I will. They're making my money diminish; I'm sick of the taste of champagne. Thank God! when I'm skinned to a finish I'll pike to the Yukon again. I'll fight -- and you bet it's no sham-fight; It's hell! -- but I've been there before; And it's better than this by a damsite -- So me for the Yukon once more. There's gold, and it's haunting and haunting; It's luring me on as of old; Yet it isn't the gold that I'm wanting So much as just finding the gold. It's the great, big, broad land 'way up yonder, It's the forests where silence has lease; It's the beauty that thrills me with wonder, It's the stillness that fills me with peace." Good luck to us on the Trail of '98 ................... macros