James Bay Or Bust

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That’s Porsche’s Laurance Yap with the Cayenne (of course), mucking with his iPhone (of course). After a blizzardy terrible snowstorm just an hour after we set out from Toronto (we really hadn’t expected the worst conditions in Orillia), we continued blasting north. There are just 4 of us: me, Laurance, Mark Richardson and videographer/photog Spencer Wynn. With 1,000 miles in the return trip, and two vehicles, we would all be driving. A lot. And getting sick of each other. A lot. Except I can’t get sick of Laurance. He is seriously the nicest man on the planet. Ask anyone. Or email him. He’ll email you back in a few minutes. No matter what time it is. The Prius, in all its gunky glory. The cars got seriously grungy; no way would you risk a car wash this far north, you’d never get the thing open again. This is in Matagami, Quebec. We kind of laughed at how quaint this place was. This motel was the kind that had doors to a hallway on one side and the parking lot on the other. It was freezing. There was a restaurant in the main part of the hotel, which was conveniently closed when we finally rolled in at 11pm at night. Starving. Good thing Spencer had brought a selection of expensive cheeses, crackers and things of that nature. I’m not kidding. He made a picnic. I brought Pringles. There is one hotel in Radisson, Quebec. And no, it’s not that kind of Raddison. We are here during the caribou hunt, which means the entire place is overrun with hunters. Seriously. I am the only female in the joint other than the woman at the front desk, and a handful of waitresses in the restaurant. As I walk down the hall to my room, every doorway is open, and every room is full of hunters in varying degrees of undress. They are burping and farting, loudly. The entire place smells like kielbasa and man. The next morning, I notice some caribou guts in the lobby as they’re all loading up coolers. I try to look away, but this is backed up to the front door. Poor babies. The next morning, we head to Chisasibi, a Cree settlement moved to this location from Fort George Island. There is a huge rec centre in the core of town, though in the cold and snow, it is eerily quiet. Found out what they do for fun, though.
You can always spot the tourists.