I finished teaching a Spring session course in June, and I began work this week on a construction crew, renovating the stands at the Hastings Park raceway in east Vancouver. From the roof, we have a great view of the Ironworkers Memorial Second Narrows Crossing (to the east) and Grouse Mountain and The Lions peaks (to the west).
Today, one of the carpenters, Miko, commenting on how "fucking tight" the asses of the horse jockeys are.
There's only guys on the track right now, I said.
Miko: Fuck you.
Me: No, Seriously. Those are dudes. But, yeah, they're in great shape. Super tight.
Over lunch, my foreman, Angelo, and I watched an osprey circle above the pond in the center of the track.
I also carried a lot of plywood up a lot of stairs today and helped build the floor of some pricey box seats with (goddamn fucking) cheap Chinese screws and Washington lumber.
Near the end of the day, suffering from droopy drawers and no belt, I ripped the entire front quarter of my jeans out hopping onto a platform. I bused downtown and walked home with half my pants gone.
You can see the track
here.