The Inaugural Grenzstadt Invitational

After a nine-year absence, my garage saw the return of tabletop wargaming yesterday!

When a friend's son started talking about getting into the re-launched edition of Warhammer Fantasy Battles, myself and another former player mused about getting back into it (yes, similar to what I said about Warhammer 40K three years ago, let it go) and two new players entered the fray. 

Warhammer was Games Workshop's iniital mass combat game and although it features fantasy races like elves, dwarfs and armies of skeletons, it is built around massed units maneuvering around a largely open battlefield, Napoleonics-style, not individual skirmishers fighting in dense cover - a style of play sometimes called 'rank & flank.'

Once I knew a pool of five players were available for the revamped Warhammer: The Old World, I asked if they might be interested in a tiny, two-table tournament at the end of summer, and they all quickly agreed. And to be clear, this is not a tremendously competitive group, eager to establish their superiority, but busy people who understood how a deadline could serve as a great motivator for building and painting!

I already had two armies on hand for this game, but the sizes of the bases (the little platforms each figure stands upon for uniform ranking) had changed. This meant over a hundred infantry in my Empire (human) army alone needed to go from 20mm to 25 mm bases, and the cavalry needed updating as well. Daunting!

This was almost enough to put me off the idea entirely, but thankfully some wise person came up with the idea of making oversized movement trays (something we've always sued for ease of maneuvering) with slots for the old base sizes, and another beautiful genius made 3D printable versions that Jeff graciously produced for me. 

I hated having to cut up the old 20 x 80mm bases (with 4 figures on them) that made both packing and ranking so much easier, but even this worked after a bit of applied snippery.

Basing the trays to match my figures was more of a chore than anticipated, but worked out okay in the end, even if it ended up making some of the fits a we bit too snug.

And after literal decades of knowing my cannons and mortars would look better if based, I finally made artillery bases.

At any rate, life conspired to keep one player away and two players from painting their armies, but four of us gathered early Saturday with completely assembled 1000 point armies and plans to get three games in before supper.

Averland Militia (Empire)

Tomb Kings

Wood Elves

Dissenters of Wing Kong (Grand Army of Cathay)

But this was not to be.

After a brief concours to see each other's armies and cast ballots for pageantry and presentation, we got into our first matches around 10 am. This was my second game of Warhammer in over a decade (and first game ever for one player!), and I was constantly referring back to the rules to make sure I was not conflating editions.

Questions flew back and forth between the tables, and our newbie-style pace meant there was only time to get two games in, but a good time was still had by all. After the sportsmanship and pageantry ballots were factored in, my two draws gave me a single point lead over Sean's incredibly tough, undefeated, and (self admittedly) slightly cheesy Tomb Kings of Khemri. And to be clear, Sportsmanship was a tough ballot, because both my opponents were a joy to play against! It's a nice problem to have, to be completely frank.)

I was already uneasy about winning my own tournament, but knowing that had we actually battled, Sean's two monsters would have rocked and/or socked my puny Averlanders with only a slight chance of my artillery causing them any real sort of inconvenience. With this in mind, I snugged up my tourney marshal hat and declared the Inaugural Grenzstadt Invitational a tie.

Congratulations Sean!

Despite only getting two games in, everyone agreed that the day was well spent, focused on wargaming and camaraderie, pushing toy soldiers around, rolling handfuls of dice and alternating from being delighted and horrified at the results of said rolls.

The applesauce bee happening just outside my garage door (hosted by my wife and her sister but involving everyone not playing Warhammer) was very productive - like, 50+ liters of pure, uncut sauce with an unknown street value - and somehow we managed to not get in each other's way, which was an added bonus. The cooks even benevolently provided some of the fruits of their labours to the players as a parting gift.

Game-wise, my veteran halberdiers aquitted themselves well, while my artillery was not terribly effective, misfiring on two sonsecutive turns in my second game before getting taken out by coutner battery fire. My 20-strong unit of handgunners were pretty decent, successfully defending a small hill from a heavy infantry charge that was decimated by withering fire before they ever got to grips with my unarmoured fusiliers.

In the end, what I really learned is that I really need and want to play more games of Warhammer again, especially with these fellows, which is a nice feeling to have after so long a pause! Perhaps the Second Annual Grenzstadt Invitational will have even more players?

Trade Wars: The Stupid Continues

On Friday night, Audrey and I made a rare appearance at a house party:

It was good time, in part because we knew what side of this nonsensical referendum the other guests would be on, even though there was little talk of it. Seeing Gord Downie's final performance while chit chatting friends and strangers was moving and bittersweet, and it is hard to believe it happened a decade ago.

There was, I think, a little talk about the recent trade talks and the threat of 50% tariffs by the Orange Menace, but early Friday evening, following a three-day pause in the implementation of said tariffs, it seemed like a deal was within reach.

The next day it wasn't.

The deal was scrapped, reportedly after Commerce Secretary and Trump minion Howard Lutnick swooped in at the eleventh hour with new conditions, including:

• the ending of supply management for Canadian dairy (lol - no)
• cessation of French language labelling requirements on goods sold in Canada (ah, non)
• the right of approval for Canadian trade deals made with other countries (seriously, what the eff?)

So Prime Minister Mark Carney told our team to pack up and head home, and announced a number of things, including our own retaliatory tariffs, which other US officials have previously 'warned Canada against doing' (again, what the actual eff?).

Now I am not a Carney die-hard because, well, he is a filthy rich banker pushing some questionable legislation at times, but there is no questioning he is the right guy to have at the wheel at this moment in time, with you-know-who still stinking up the Oval Office another couple of years. Carney is objectively a smart, smart dude, particularly in regards to Economics, but more importantly, I think he honestly does have the best interests of an independent and united Canada in mind.

Any single one of those three items Nutlick brought to the table at the eleventh hour were deal-breakers, so if you think there was never any real intention of doing a deal, well, there are plenty of folks who agree with you. 

His speech regarding the breakdown in negotiations include describing the USA signature as "written in pencil," a poignant way to describe a country or at least an administration acting outside of the CUSMA agreement their own guy created in 2020. I prefer Wab Kinew's assertion that "you can't make a good deal with bad people."

And obviously this whole situation is unfortunate for a number of reason, not the least of which is this: no one 'wins' in a trade war.

But when Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy goes on camera with the fascist lickspittles at Fox News and lets a stream of abject lies pour out of his cakehole without any pushback, it underscores how far our relationship with our closest neighbout and (still) largest trading partner has fallen.

According to Duffy, Careny wiull have to come back to the table because Canada "doesn't have a military," and lives (ungratefully, I imagine) under US protection, in addition to having "record high euthanasia rates."

I'm not going to debate a guy about the morality of medical assistance in dying when he lives in a country where 14% of the population has over $1000 in medical debt and a cancer diagnosis can wipe out generational wealth even if you have insurance - our countries clearly have different priorities and I prefer ours.

But to have a US cabinet member ignore our military after 158 Canadian Armed Forces member died in Afghanistan following 9/11, to say nothing of fighting shoulder to shoulder in two world wars that they were late to the party for? 

Unforgivable.

And I mean, I really shouldn't be surprised - this same selective amnesia came into play when Canada opted out of going into Iraq for DEseRt sToRm Too: This Time It's Familial, so either we are ungrateful fair-weather friends or the other side's idea of loyalty is of the "but what have you done for me lately" variety.

So, yeah, out here, past the hundredth meridian (where the great plains begin), the elbows are going up even higher in this household, and across much of the country. Will I miss bourbon? You bet. But there are great alternatives closer to home.

The Economist described Carney's approach as "defiance," an objectionable characterization in my eyes since it implies that Trump/ the USA are to be obeyed under most circumstances, which I clearly refute. But if you go with Merriam-Webster's second definition: "Resist or withstand: To be completely unaffected by or able to hold out against an attempt or force," I am somewhat mollified.

Because these attacks have done more to unite Canada than anything outside the Olympics, and that makes us considerably more formidable. The French language exclusion item has even driven the CBC's French learning app, Mauril, to #2 on the educational apps chart!

And historically, Canada has tended to emerge from these situations largely intact, eventually, as Tod Maffin outlines here:

Canada vs. USA: The Trade War America Always Loses (History Proves It)

To sum up then: trade wars are as dumb as hatchet fights: they injure both parties and it is difficult, bordering on impossible, to clearly determine a 'winner.'

But on the other hand, dropping the hatchet or turning your back on someone still holding onto theirs might be even dumber. So what do we need right now?

"Courage - my word"

- Gordon Downie / Gordon Sinclair / Johnny Fay / Paul Langlois / Robert Baker (The Tragically Hip)

Edmonton Folk Music Festival 2026 - My Three Faves

I love volunteering at Folk Fest and have done so almost e3very year they have had one since 2016, but most years, at some point, I hit a wall. And after hitting the wall, I have to actually consider if this will be my last year volunteering.

This year it was Friday. Not even a long day! Start at noon, the corral for the tarp lottery at Stage 1 is still up from the day before, no delays in marching the groups of 30 patrons on to the field so they can set up their tarps for main stage (unlike the day before as they scrambled to get more sand and rig mats laid over the soggy ground).

But it was hot. 26 degrees and I was still tired from the extensive standing Glory (my crewmate!) and I had done during the delays of the day before. I also don't think I hydrated enough; by the time the two of us marched off to the dinner line, I was a shambling wreck, cowering from the merciless sun in the shade of teh umbrella I had brought for rain.

But a great dinner (beer braised Alberta beef with garlic, Moroccan spied carrots, potatoes, three different salads) and a little time in the shade left me in a better state to see a couple of the Friday night main stage acts. We couldn't stay for Of Monsters & Men, the big draw that evening, since we had to be back on site at 6:30 the next morning, and since there is no longer a volunteer shuttle, that trip is about an hour now.

But Saturday morning was cool, and Glory and I had already decided that we would only watch a couple of afternoon shows and then head home to nap. We went to bed early and this meant we could see all the main stage acts Sunday, and even stay for the traditional singing of Ian Tyson's "Four Strong Winds" that closes out the festival.

By that point, both sleepy and exhausted, with aching feet and knowledge that my physically demanding teardown shift was a little more than 12 hours away, I was still at a point where I could say: I can't wait for next year.

So what did I like most about Folk Fest this year?

 1) The Workshops

I had wanted to see Nova Scotia storyteller Adam Baldwin in his own concert. I'd told Glory how great his stage banter was when he'd opened up for Alan Doyle at the Jube the year before, but the schedule didn't fit our needs.

So we went to a workshop called Tall Tales that included him, a trio called The Pairs and 'cosmic folk' artist Sister Ray, and it was fantastic. From his rejection of the term workshop in favour of "drinking in the kitchen" to the interactions between songs to the incidental accompaniment by the artists to the songs of others (perhaps hearing them for the first time), it was a great hour spent in the shade of Stage 7.

My favourite bit was Baldwin talking about how his tragic crime song "Lighthouse in Little Lorraine" was based on a true story, but because he could figure out neither a Nova Scotia community that rhymed with 'hashish', nor a narcotic name that rhymed with Louisbourg, he was forced to change both. And then the song got made into a movie! Which he says you can now watch on WestJet and "should be on a DVD in Giant Tiger any day now."

Similarly, the If You Could Read My Mind workshop featuring The Milk Carton Kids, Fantastic Cat, and The Brudi Brothers was full of great tunes, good humour and tremendous interaction as well.

2) My Crew

People are probably tired of hearing me quote my own maxim, "It's less about what I do and more about who I do it with," but it is true. And nowhere is is more true than when working with the Greetings East crew.

We run the tarp lottery, a somewhat arcane and counter-intuitive randomization system that allows 1000 or more dedicated patrons to enter the field prior to the public gates opening for optimal tarp placement. For our part, this includes building an enclosure (corral) that can hold 2000+ people out of fast fence, handing out 2000+ colored tags with the names of performing artists on them to the patrons as they enter, trying to keep them moving towards the back of the corral instead of crowding around the entryway, announcing an artist's name and then lining the people with matching tickets along the sidewalks up and down the neighbourhood, sometimes stretching further than three city blocks.

At the appointed time, usually 30 mins to an hour but sometimes two hours or more, some of us serve as human pylons, dividing the line into groups of thirty, then marching them through main gate and handing them off to security so they can race safely up the hill and place their tarps. 

After that, we (usually) take down the fast fence and stack it, then place our own tarps. I wouldn't call it easy, and sometimes testy patrons can make things more challenging than they need to be, but it is generally a smooth operation, and our duty is done before the first act hits the stage.

There were 19 of us this year (then team was less than a dozen when I started!), mostly ladies, all but a handful are much, much younger than me, and all of them are great. 

Different people are going to be great at different things, but there are no shirkers. Everyone understands and appreciates what we are doing and why, and we get on fabulously with all but a handful of the patrons. And even those ones should get the benefit of the doubt - who hasn't had a bad day outdoors in a crowd?

Having Glory as a crewmate in 2023 and this year has been an extra delight, and out leadership is smart, funny (like most everyone on this crew!), open minded and attentive. And they even bring cinnamon rolls and rice krispie treats for the early weekend shifts!

My crew are a big part of why I will come back next year.

3) The Music

I have been a fan of Corb Lund since 2007's Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier!, and Thursday night I finally got to see him live for the first time. He was sandwiched between two soul music acts, The Womack Sisters and Thee Sacred Souls, both of whom sounded amazing. 

Friday night we saw Irish trio Amble and enjoyed them immensely. Wonderful voices, great musicianship and tremendous stage presence from their frontman (but charm from all). Apparently when the lead singer told his family he was quitting his job as a teacher to play music full time, his father told him, "throw out the trout to catch the salmon," which is maybe the most Irish thing I have ever heard, and you can apparently see it written on a bunch of their merch.  I expect to be hearing more about them in the months to come.

Trousdale is a country/rock flavoured trio from California with a great sense of humour and absolutely heart-stopping harmonies. I am disappointed the studio version of their cover of Neil Young's "Old Man" sounds so tame compared to the version we heard on the hillside of Stage 5 that raised the gooseflesh on me.

St. Paul & The Broken Bones are hard to describe, but soul ensemble with the energy of a Gospel revival service probably comes close. Paul Janeway was perhaps the most dynamic frontman we saw all weekend. At one point he guided both the band and the audience through a 1-2-3 rhythm game ("That was good. Real good!  But we did not come all the way to Edmonton to be good. We came here to be great. And doo you know what separates the good from the great? No? FRACTIONS."), and at another, he clised ski hill on his belly. I will never miss a chance to see this group if I can help it.

At any rate, a week later the exhaustion and foot pain are forgotten and great memories of music, people and food (the volunteer kitchen still puts out simply amazing meals 3000 plates at a time!) are what remain.

I can't wait for next year! Hope to see you on the hill.

BONUS REFLECTION: THE TEEPEE TEARDOWN

At about the midway point of my teardown shift, as we used a rickshaw/wheelbarrow to move a heavy pile of fence posts and post-puller from one spot to another, someone told my crew boss Ross that the Nikawomin crew needed help taking down the 30' teepee from their cultural area.

"These three fellows would be only too happy to help," he said, before wandering off to supervise another group back of mainstage.

One of the Site Crew and a Nikamowin volunteer explained that it was not difficult work but it required multiple, steady hands and a respect for protocol. For instance, stepping over the supporting poles once they were laid down was considered disrespectful.

So began by folding the covering material onto itself, one team on each side of the opening, until it was all gathered at the back, then lowered it folded it some more and placed in on a bench someone carried over to keep it off the ground.

Then we worked as teasm to lower the various poles leaning against the tripod of lashed poles at the center. Working carefully from both a safety and respect perspective, two fellows steadied the pole while lowering it, and others like me moved to catch it once with in reach and then walk to the end until it was carryable.

At one point the volunteer showed us a "cheat" wherein you could use a still standing pole to slow the descent of one being lowered, which worked pretty well. 

Finally we steadied the legs of the tripod, lashed together at the top with a long cord, brought the three poles together one at a time, and then slowly lowered the bundle and caught it like one enormous pole.

"And that's it!" grinned the Nikamowin volunteer. "It's not hard, it just helps to have more hands."

The Site Crew worker nodded. "And you are all teepee certified now, so we'll see you next year, eh?"

And the volunteer grinned and nodded when I asked if I could put "Indigenous housing experience" on my resume.

Camping *Can* Be Good

There’s an old industry joke that goes something like this: A man works at the circus taking care of the elephants. Rather, he has to clean up after them. Day in day out, until months become weeks becomes years. After awhile, he’s sick and tired of cleaning up elephant dung and he starts complaining. He hates what he’s doing and he lets everyone around him know it. One of his coworkers overhears him grumbling and says, well, if you don’t like it, why don’t you just quit. To which our hearty circus man replies: “What, and give up show business!?!”

After hearing about our trailer tire-based mishaps in and around Clearwater, many people were surprised, nay shocked and horrified, to discover we were going camping the following weekend. Like, the same level of incredulity at the end of Black Hawk Down when Josh Hartnett exclaims to Eric Bana, having just run the infamous 'Mogadishu Mile' to escape that beleaguered city, "You're going back?"

I suppose on the surface it does appear pretty crazy: after having a week's vacation nearly demolished by two flat tires in rapid succession, we probably do appear to be gluttons for punishment. But the truth of it is, after the second tire repair, we still had a good time. 

Even on our way back from Kamloops the first time we stopped at the Artisan Antique Market in Louis Creek, near Barrier, which is a charming shop full of friendly people.

And on our journey home, we found a great place to stop for two nights. The Blue River Campground is just off Highway 5 and the sites are pretty close and not very treed, but the facilities are very well-kept, the bathrooms clean and the showers free, and the outdoor cooking area is not only a rain shelter, but full kitchen with stove, microwave and refrigerator, and well as a dishwashing station! 

We didn't use the outdoor kitchen as I had brought marinated pork chops that needed cooking as well as Babybel cheeses and charcuterie meat for making savory s'mores over the campfire.

The campground is just so tidy and friendly compared to many others we've stayed at, and there are lots of handpainted murals and decorations as well. Highly recommended, and we are likely to return next year to check out the nearby river safari and floating restaurant.

There is also a lake beach in town and an impressive set of rapids called Little Hell's Gate about 25 min south of Blue River.

This past weekend we joined my sister-in-law and her boyfriend for three nights at Paddy's Flat in Kananaskis Country, about 20 minutes southeast of Bragg Creek. There was a bear advisory posted on the website (a sow and two cubs) and we saw one as drove into the camp after sunset. 

Our late arrival was thanks to us having to turn around in Lacombe and head back after realizing I'd completely forgotten to pack my CPAP machine, despite remembering to lug along the battery to power it at an unserviced site! Thank heavens Glory was willing to drive out with it and meet us in Leduc which probably cut 80 minutes off our travel time!

The next day I saw another bear (or perhaps the same one again) after being warned by another camper in their vehicle that it was in the stand of trees about 25 feet from the outhouse I had just used. I locked eyes with him as I kept one hand on the outhouse door handle, but when a truck passed nearby, he disappeared into the bush separating campground loops.

This is not to say there was no animal activity at our campsite; far from it! We had many visitors:

Is it strange having massive wandering bovines stroll so leisurely through your campsite? Sure. Have we had worse intrusions on fewer legs? Also true.

Add to this the panic I created when I saw black fur in the nearby trees after sunset and warned everyone about a nearby bear cub, only to discover it was Vera's dog, Onyx. 

You see it though, right?

I had also made this error after spotting Onyx way, way too close in the bush after my outhouse bear encounter on Saturday.

It was pretty hot on Saturday as well, but we got some games in in the shade and I managed to type up last week's blog. On Sunday it was a bit cooler and I managed to get in some hammock time, which was quite enjoyable.

Vera's friend Charlene arrived at the site across the road on Sunday as well, and the three ladies got stuck in on a jigsaw puzzle Vera had started that day. Somehow they managed to finish it before sunset and Charlene's husband even found the last missing piece on the ground!

In terms of natural splendor, it is a short walk down to Paddy's Flat on the Elbow River, which is awfully scenic and tranquil (and pretty cold, being glacier-fed!)..

Monday morning, before packing up the Bride of Frankentrailer, Audrey and I headed out about 4 km down Hwy 66 to Elbow River Falls. A popular day trip for Calgarians, we got there before the parking lot was even a quarter-full, and 90 minutes later it was packed. Worth a trip if you are in the neighbourhood though!

I even tried my hand at a bit of rock climbing

(...poses). 

I am glad we had a chance to have a less eventful camping trip following our travails in B.C., even for just a weekend. And although we are hoping to retire the Bride in a year or two, I hope we have a few more summers (and falls) of trailer camping left in us. 

And when we share the next set of ridiculous obstacles that hamper our enjoyment and people suggest we stay in a hotel or Air BnB instead, we can scoff and say, "What? And give up the great outdoors?"