Quarry Night

The Habs allowed three shorthanded goals during their tiresome 5-0 loss to the Ottawa Senators on Saturday night, and I don’t want to talk about it.

How about a historic acid party at a limestone quarry outside of Orillia in the late-1960s instead?

A party where we climbed the flat sides of the place in the dark with water and rocks 50 feet below, whoopin’ and hollerin’, with brains soaked with mind-bending chemicals, probably never considering even once that we could kill ourselves.

It was a grand party, just me and the rest of The Boys, doing what we did best. Partying. In fact, we were such good partiers that some teenagers in town weren’t crazy about us showing up at their doorsteps. Something about them trying to keep their parents’ house nice.

A few didn’t mind, I guess. At least I like to think so.

Yes, the quarry party was a beauty, taken to a new level when we saw the lights of cars coming in, cars filled with people a few years older than us, who had brought their own drugs and music, and we all bonded in a fuzzy sort of way.

I won’t go into too many details. There was that time when one of my friends saw a guy wander off, and when he came back, my buddy checked where he’d been and found a bag of pills that we all shared when the older bunch weren’t looking.

A couple of us sat in the back of an older guy’s convertible and listened to the first (and newly-released) Led Zeppelin album on his fancy 8-track car stereo, and after about the third listening, the guy yanked the tape out and we swore mightily.

We calmed down when he inserted Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline, also a new release, and I fell in love with that album so much that when someone asked me if I wanted to go to town with them to get some MDA, I said no, Bob Dylan’s bringing me my MDA.

And just recently I found out from one of my buddies that a girl there that night with the older guys, the girl with the cowboy hat, was Cathy Evelyn Smith, who later on would serve time in California for injecting drugs into actor John Belushi, which killed him.

Me and the other Boys still talk about the quarry from time to time. And years after the fact, I entered a contest at CHEZ 106 in Ottawa, with a free CD of the choosing to those with good stories about the 1960s.

I told the quarry story, and they sent me Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline.

One final note; that quarry was where the limestone came from to build the old Catholic church in Orillia. The church where I was an altar boy. And where, as an altar boy, I set myself on fire lighting candles.

And when I look closely at my picture below, I sure have a long finger.

altar boy

me (2)



8 thoughts on “Quarry Night”

  1. Great stories…keep them coming!
    I bought a copy of ‘Nashville Skyline’ on it’s release date…played the shit out of it…decades later it’s still one of my top ten albums.
    Thanks!…Golf Habs Golf!

  2. DK, the tale brings back fond memories & yes folks I was one of The Boys! Still can’t understand why some would prefer we not attend their party, because as you said we were pretty good at it πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

  3. Yes Dennis those were great party’s . I do remember the convertible and the owner. The older crowd loved being around us they never knew what to expect. Great memories

  4. Are you sure that’s your finger Dennis? Oh sorry the MDA hasn’t worn off from that night. Geez it’s been 45 years good buzz.

  5. Great to read your post Rugger another of one of The Boys who managed to get through the late 60′ & early 70’s. Some weren’t quite so fortunate but there still in our memories. Rugger can you figure out why we were not welcome at some parties, we were great clean fun loving guy’s ******NOT πŸ™‚

  6. YIPPEE YIPPEE…….Habs beat the Ducks! Feel free to text me a “YAHOO” at 604 – 223 – 0131. Great to see you back buddy.
    Mikey D

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