Missing an old friend

View from the Whaleback - When I arrived at the ski chalet yesterday, I could just wiggle my way into the parking lot. During the morning, 18 cm of dense, wet snow had fallen and the grooming machine was not making a dent in the clammy accumulation. I was faced with only one option and that was to grab my old waxless touring skis and head out Beaver Tail Flat, breaking trail as I went along.

Within a few strides I was in the zone and I began to reminisce about my early days in Stephenville, when I would often meet my good friend John Maddock on the very same trail.

Beaver Tail Flat is actually an old abandoned logging trail that skiers have been touring since cross country skiing came into vogue in the late 1960s. The trail has not changed much, but I am very sad to say John passed away last June.

In 'them days,' the Cold Brook Trail was an out-and-back narrow path that was not machine groomed. If you were the first one there after school, or on a frosty Saturday morning, you became the designated groomer for the day and broke trail.

On many occasions, John Maddock was my track-setter. John and I would meet on the trail, exchange pleasantries, discuss the wax of the day and be on our way. It was not long before I realized that John was a trail blazer in a variety of areas and a wealth of information.

By the time I arrived on the scene in 1975, John Maddock was already well established in the fabric of Stephenville. He was an ardent supporter of cross country and alpine skiing and was a founding member of the original Stephenville Ski Club. John and I would often swap stories about ski touring and places to boilup along the trail. He loved to boil the kettle and back then; his two eldest boys, Ian and Colin, were often right beside him.

But John was not only involved in cross country and down hill skiing; he was a man for all seasons. He was actively involved in the Scouting movement, was an avid canoeist and was very much at home in the great outdoors.

He was also an enthusiastic educator who loved literature and especially 'poetry.' Did I say poetry? No one could say the word poetry like John Maddock could. His Scottish accent brought the word to life as it waltzed off his tongue.

John was a great lover of the arts. I have fond remembrances of John and Bernice leading a giddy crew of houseguests through a lively set of Lancers followed by the Gay Gordons. He was a founding member of Bay Theatre and was both a director and a leading actor in numerous plays that were staged by the local drama group. One of my fondest memories of John on stage was when he acted as the snarly old Fagin in Oliver Twist.

I can still see Fagin herding together the Artful Dodger and his slick gang of delinquent pickpockets. John acted in several roles in the play and if I am not mistaken, directed it as well.

More recently, John combined with a clutch of talented musicians, including his son Michael, to host an evening of dinner and Scottish entertainment at the Holiday Inn. Dressed in his kilt and wielding a sweet and pure Scottish accent, John was in his element.

John loved to celebrate his Scottish heritage and often performed delightful recitations by his beloved 'Rabbie' Burns, the favourite son of Scotland.

John Maddock was an enormous contributor to the arts, education, sports and recreation and to his church, to name but a few. He had a wide circle of friends who miss him, and his fervent love of life, dearly. It is sometimes difficult to break trail without him leading the way.