Fairies of the North. Part One.
by Bear Hunter
I’ve met some interesting people over the years. Most of which have been in the last three years. I have a friend I met online, he’s quite the character. I can’t tell you his real name. He often goes by the alias “Paradox”. I could only dream of living the life this man has lived. I can’t give you specifics about the man, he is very secretive. He does like to share his stories.
One of his more interesting tales he has agreed to let me share. One thing you need to know about Paradox is that he is an explorer at heart. The man has travelled to Egypt, the Barmuda Triangle, Tibet, the Amazon and the Middle East. His mission in life is to solve the world’s greatest mysteries. Most of his evidence he keeps confined to private archives – I suspect he doesn’t deem the world ready to know. My favourites are his findings on Jesus Christ but he would disown me if I were to leak any of those online.
For some odd reason Paradox has a fascination with the Canadian north, particularly the remote regions. He believes that there are great mysteries hidden deep beneath the ice. One summer he took a trip to Northern Labrador. It is the northern mainland portion of the province of “Newfoundland and Labrador”. Labrador resides along the northern Atlantic coastline and borders the province of Quebec. The northern tip of the province is designated part of the arctic and has a very some population made up primarily of aboriginal peoples.
Paradox decided – evidence or not – he had to explore a region called the “Torngat Mountains” before the end of his days. Local people believed that the mountains were home to evil spirits. All that scientists could find inhabiting the area were Caribou and Polar Bears. Then again, it’s a massive area that few people dare traverse. Paradox figured that if nothing else he could challenge himself both body and soul. He also takes giddy pleasure in trekking where few if any had trekked before.
Paradox’s journey began in a small village on the outskirts of the mountains. He wouldn’t reveal the name of the town to me. He told me that he didn’t want anyone to retrace his steps, I think he didn’t want any women to retrace his steps. Paradox has difficulty keeping his travel companion – Baby Yeti – in his pants. He had some fun stories about local women smiling at him and calling him Big Bear – he’s a big guy. Paradox spent some time in San Francisco a few years back and had some confusing experiences with men labelling him a bear, and inviting him to underground parties. Paradox used to love underground parties… up until San Francisco. Because of San Fran it took Paradox days to realize that these northern women were flirting with him as opposed to labelling him gay. Just to be clear, my alias “Bear Hunter” has nothing to do with the above subject matter… just so you don’t make any false assumptions about me or how I came to meet Paradox.
After days of experimenting with different methods of boosting body heat in the village Paradox was ready to set out into the wilderness. The big hairy guy is an expert survivalist. He’s been hospitalized twice for experimenting with five different types of anti-vemon. That knowledge saved his life once while in the Amazon, he doesn’t mess around.
His plan, was to hike 20 kilometres into the mountain valleys. If he found any clues of any unusual phenomenon he planned to return for a more in-depth investigation a few weeks later. His hike onto the mountains started out to be promising. The long summer days allowed him to cover a lot of ground in a single day. For a big guy Paradox has amazing endurance – I’m sure the single women in the village discovered much the same thing.
On day two things started to get rough. Paradox was setting up his tent on a ridge when he lost his footing and slipped on some ice. Taken by surprise he reached out and grabbed his tent for dear life. The momentum of his hefty body as it slid down the ridge caused the securely tied and spiked tent to rip clear in half. Paradox continued to slide down the ridge with shredded tent in hand until his body crash hard against a flat rock. On the way down he had become rolled up in his own torn tent fabric which bound his arms to his side. Unable to break his fall Paradox’s head had slammed hard into the flat rock, it knocked him out cold. He isn’t sure how long he laid there unconscious. All he remembers was waking up with the tent fabric wrapped around his face and screaming “10 000 foot fall and I’m still alive mother fuckers!”. In his delirium Paradox had waken up believing he had just jumped out of a plane with a faulty parachute – I can’t confirm if such a thing ever happened to him. The moment he ripped the fabric from his face only to see icy mountains instead of a muddy field was a shock to his system. The shock – and possibly a concussion – caused the man lose control of his bladder and soak his best pair of snow pants. I don’t know why, but he insisted that I made sure I included that detail. Paradox is a very detail-oriented person.
For the rest of the trip Paradox would have to endure the acrid odour of his own essence. Despite my skepticism, he stands by the belief that this very odour played a part in attracting the mysterious “allies” he claims came to his rescue during the most treacherous moments of his arctic mountain trek. I have to get back to work but I will continue with this – hard to belief if it weren’t for the photos he showed me – tale another time.
– Bear Hunter