Category: Cardigan

TruckPro adds four locations to network

LONGUEUIL, Que. – TruckPro has announced the expansion of its network to more than 125 service centers.
The recent additions include: Diesel Expectations; River Philip, N.S.; Palmer Automotive and Truck Center, Cardigan, P.E.I.; Service de Freins Montr…

Justin Trudeau visits Prince Edward Island

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau visited the Montague Curling Club in P.E.I. Thursday, June 29, 2017, for a meet and greet hosted by Cardigan MP Lawrence MacAulay. Ryan Ross

From there, Trudeau travelled to Charlottetown where he toured the Canada C3 bo…

Trump in ABQ: Rally, Then Ruckus

Get a job, losers! shouted one of the more vocal Donald Trump supporters who stood in line Tuesday afternoon to watch the presumptive Republican nominee speak in Albuquerque. The message was directed at two University of New Mexico students protesting the event.

One of those students, Cassady Leonard, carried a sign that read Hate won t make us great. She shrugged off the jeers. If they support Donald Trump, I expect ignorance, Leonard tells SFR.

That booty belongs in the Valley! another Trump supporter taunted. (Leonard was wearing shorts, along with a Bernie Sanders button pinned to her black cardigan.) The heckler, Angela Zerah, also wore a button. Hers read: Bomb the SHIT out of ISIS.

I like the fact that Trump wants to protect our border, Zerah says, referring to the businessman s signature policy proposal of building a wall to keep out Mexican immigrants. People say he s racist. He s not racist.

He just wants to protect the ones we got right now. Angela Zerah supports Donald Trump for president. Steven Hsieh Zerah, a 46-year-old medical administrator who lives in Albuquerque, says she has never voted in her life but plans to cast her ballot for the first time in November.

By midafternoon, thousands of people had snaked around the Albuquerque Convention Center for Trump s first rally in New Mexico. Baseball caps bearing the candidate s slogan, Make America Great Again, came in red, blue, white, pink and camouflage. Most in line were there to support Trump but others came to disrupt the rally .

And a few, like 18-year-old Bryan Metzger from Albuquerque , just wanted entertainment. I m here because it s a spectacle, Metzger says. It s kind of humorous.

Cecil Stark, a retired electrical engineer with a bushy mustache , wore a Transformers t-shirt one size too small. Stark, 69, lived in Santa Fe for 30 years before moving to Albuquerque for cheaper housing. Stark says h e settled on Trump after his other choices, former Hewlett-Packard CEO Carly Fiorina and neurosurgeon Ben Carson, dropped out.

But Stark says he is happy with the way things have turned out. There s nothing he says that I don t like, Stark claim s. He s especially drawn to Trump s business background and tough rhetoric.

He wants to make America what it was before. Across the street, Tonita Gonzales, a curandera from the North Valley , blew into a conch shell as burnt sage wafted in the air. Forgive those that don t know better, Gonzales said as she directed a crowd through a traditional I ndigenous ceremony.

Behind her, Trump supporters and protesters were engaged in heated arguments. But Gonzales was unfazed. She continued speaking: Heal the hatred they hold.

Show them compassion so they can heal. Tonita Gonzales leads an Indigenous ceremony outside the Trump rally. Steven Hsieh In the hours before Trump s rally began, hundreds of demonstrators gathered directly across from the C onvention C enter to protest the racist and misogynist rhetoric that some believe drives his campaign.

Organizers led the crowd in chants of Trump, escucha! ! El pueblo esta en lucha! ( Trump, listen! The people are struggling! ) Critics are especially repulsed by two of his signature policy proposals: a border wall that Mexico would pay for and a ban on Muslims travelling to the US (he has somewhat backed down from the latter).

Trump is all about hate and racism, and I m not, says Bernadette Garcia, wearing sunglasses under an ACLU baseball cap. As a person of color, I find him offensive. As a woman, I find him offensive.

Lydia Karnikova, a tourist from Prague, came out for a slice of American politics on her last day in the country. She likened Trump s rise to that of a far-right extremist movement in her home country of the Czech Republic. Nobody knew this could have happened, Karnikova says.

Everybody was still mocking him a year ago. Trump walked on to the Convention Center stage to Get Ready f or This , the pump-up song heard in NBA arena s across the country. Minutes earlier, a disembodied voice announced over a loudspeaker: If a protester starts demonstrating, please do not touch or harm the protester.

During an hourlong speech, the onetime reality TV star boasted about his successes, insulted his critics and encouraged security guards to kick out demonstrators who interrupted hi m . Trump rattled through his list of derogatory nicknames: crazy Bernie Sanders, goofy Elizabeth Warren and the dishonest slime of the media. But he saved his harshest words for crooked Hillary Clinton.

She screams , and it drives me crazy, he said, pretending to cover his ears before launching into an off- the- mark impression of the former secretary of state. In one of the biggest applause lines of the night, Trump blamed Gov. Susana Martinez for an increase in food stamp recipients in New Mexico.

We have to get your governor and get going, he said to the crowd. She s got to do a better job, OK? She s got to do a better job.

Trump also lamented the relocation of Syrian refugees to the state, saying, If I was governor, that wouldn t be happening. Protesters occasionally interrupted the rally, only to be drowned out by supporters chanting USA! or the candidate s name.

In what has become a recurring motif on the Trump trail, the candidate mocked protesters as security guards escorted them out of the building. Police escorted several protesters out of the building. Steven Hsieh He can t get a date, so he s doing this instead, he said, as guards brought a protester down from the bleachers.

That kid looks like he s 10 years old, he said about another protester. The crowd ate it up, and Trump fed off their energy. There s nowhere in the world safer than a Trump rally.

As darkness fell, shouts of Fuck Trump! echoed through the streets of Albuquerque. Another group of protesters shouted the two-word message to passersby, to each other and to no one in particular.

Trucks clogged a two-block stretch near the C onvention C enter. Drivers blared hip-hop and burned rubber, clouding the air with thick smoke. Protesters stood on truck beds, defiantly waving the Mexican flag.

The scene felt like a party. One of those protesters, Tony Torres, tells SFR, I m supporting my kind. I don t want that fucker to come around here.

We deserve better than that. Torres, an 18-year-old who drove down from Santa Fe , says he did so with his parents permission. I m not letting anybody take me out of my country.

Back in front of the C onvention C enter, Dustin Chavez-Davis, a UNM student wearing a neon yellow vest, tried to stop unruly protesters from throwing bottles at the police. An earlier ruckus during the rally shattered the Convention Center s glass door , forc ing Trump supporters to leave the building through an alternate exit. We re trying to keep it peaceful, man, Chavez-Davis says.

But there are elements in the crowd. People are not listening. People are upset.

As the night wore on, any semblance of order quickly crumbled away. Protest e rs pelted mounted police with a steady stream of pebbles, with the occasional fist-sized rock added into the mix. Some jumped on top of police cruisers.

Police wearing riot gear responded to the projectiles with pepper spray and smoke canisters. They made four arrests, and several officers sustained injuries, according 1 to the APD Twitter account. At a Wednesday rally in Anaheim, California, police arrested at least five protesters.

2 After the rally, a festive protest outside descended into violence.

Steven Hsieh See more photos from the event here.

3 References ^ according ( ^ arrested ( ^ See more photos from the event here. (

Keeping the Peace in the Woods and Streams

A few days after the opening of rifle season in early November, Kevin Bronson, a conservation officer with the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department, is driving the back roads of Croydon. It s low, scrubby, boggy country, punctuated by lakes and ponds, and criss-crossed by a maze of dirt roads and trails. Bronson knows these back-of-beyond roads well, turning right, left, left again, then right without hesitation. Mount Cardigan is the focal point on the horizon. On a moody cloudy day, the grays of the sky seep into the brown of the trees and the steely blue of the streams and ponds. Tall and red-haired, with an erect posture, Bronson wears a heavy wool red jacket, which sports a Fish and Game insignia. A bulky, dog-eared New Hampshire Fish and Game Laws manual is stuffed in the console between the front seats of his truck; copies of the New Hampshire Constitution and the state s criminal codes are in the back. He s tucked a red-tailed hawk feather into the sun visor of the passenger seat. The radio is tuned to The Wolf, the country music station out of Bellows Falls, Vt. Now 26, Bronson has been an officer since 2013, starting out in a patrol on the seacoast near Exeter and moving over to the Connecticut River Valley in August 2014. He covers 14 towns in Sullivan and Merrimack counties: Cornish, Claremont, Goshen, Unity, Lempster, Croydon, Grantham, Newport, Sunapee, New London, Newbury, Springfield, Sutton and Wilmot. Last year, he drove more than 30,000 miles on the job, logged more than 1,000 miles on the department s snowmobile and clocked 105 hours on the department s motorboat. I m finally now getting to the point where I don t have to look up an address in my gazetteer, he said. Bronson decides to stop when he sees tire tracks in the dirt road that indicate that a vehicle had pulled off the road and parked next to an overgrown pasture, where an old apple tree has dropped its fruit, large yellow apples with blood-red speckles. Apples are a staple food for deer, and hunters will stake out untended apple trees, waiting for that elusive big buck to emerge at dusk from the shadows where woods meet fields. A rough path, made by humans and animals tamping down the long grass as they move through, leads from the road into the field. There was a farm here once. Only piles of stones and cellar holes, now concealed by overgrown weeds and grass, remain. A tumbled-down wood-frame shack is yards away. After a brief look inside, Bronson decides it must have been a chicken house. The chickens had a million dollar view, Bronson said, looking toward Mount Cardigan on the horizon. One of Bronson s primary tasks in the fall is to find hunters taking deer illegally, which can include such unsportsmanlike activities as hunting at night, shooting from a motorized vehicle, shooting across a road, shooting too close to a house, baiting outside the permitted two-week window or taking more than the alloted limits for bow, rifle and muzzle-loader season. He s always on the lookout for tire tracks or human footprints that might lead to an illegal bait, where hunters try to lure deer (or bear) with favorite foods. Apples and cracked corn for deer, molasses and candy for bear. It s rare to meet a hunter, he said, who doesn t know the laws regarding bear and deer kills. There are occasional accidental violators, but that is not the norm. Bronson walks back toward the apple tree nearest the road, and begins examining the ground around the tree and the nap of the dried field grass lining the path. Recent heavy rains have probably washed away any blood. But then Bronson spots something. I ll be a son-of-a-gun, he said. There seem to be drag marks leading away from the tree, and from the way the stalks of the field grass along the path are bent and, in some cases, snapped off near the roots, Bronson surmises that a hunter shot from the window of a truck, probably at night, and then pulled the deer over the ground to the road. Maybe it was spur-of-the-moment, or maybe the hunter had stalked a deer in that spot for some time. Bronson calls it buck fever, the inability to resist taking a shot when a deer seems to drop into a hunter s lap. There are a few roads in his patrol that he s dubbed road-shot central, places that draw more than a fair share of hunters who take deer illegally. The majority of hunters follow the rules, but there are always the few, often habitual offenders, who do not, and it s part of Bronson s job to find out who they are, catch them in the act, or on hidden camera, and arrest and transport them to a police station. As a conservation officer, he is also a sworn law enforcement officer. Bronson can t place when the shooting of the deer might have happened: maybe a day or two before, maybe longer. He bends down to scrutinize a big log that s been placed at the entrance to the path to discourage ATVs or snowmobiles from careening through this isolated spot. If a hunter dragged a dead deer over the log, stray fur might still adhere to the bark. If Bronson can collect fur, from which DNA can be extracted, he d have at least one piece of physical evidence that could be used to identify the deer should it ever turn up at a registration station. Killing deer illegally can result in a range of fines, depending on the violation. Worse, from a hunter s perspective, is the loss of a hunting license for a year, which Bronson calls the teeth of Fish and Game law. But there s no sign of fur, or anything else, on the log, and Bronson climbs back in his truck. He wants to come back at night to stake out the field, and the next step is to find a place where he could park unnoticed, not an easy thing when he drives a cumbersome Ford F250 with the Fish and Game seal on the door, and a license plate reading F34, the number of his patrol. He drives up and down the road, looking for a turn-off or trailhead into which he could back the truck. There s a house not too far away, but Bronson is concerned that if he parks near it, the residents or passers-by might alert the hunter, who could be neighbors or friends, to his presence. After a few minutes, he finds a place that might work, a barely visible driveway leading to a parcel of land that s for sale. He s had his eye on it, because he likes the idea of living in a remote, wooded area where he can run his hunting dog, a 2-year-old Vizsla named Saranac, but the purchase price is too high. He ll be back that evening, and with some luck and a deep reserve of patience he can sit on fields for hours with nothing happening maybe the hunter or hunters will return. This fall he hasn t encountered too many shiners, hunters who use lights at night to look for deer, or illegally use spot-, flash- or headlights to shoot deer. It might mean there are fewer hunters straying outside the bounds of sportsmanship and the law, which would be good. The goal, always, Bronson said, using the language of the department, is voluntary compliance with the least means necessary. Or it might indicate that, as an officer covering an area, give or take, of 500 square miles, in a department that is understaffed and experiencing a budget crunch, the odds are against him being in the right spot at the right time. Kevin Bronson grew up in Constableville, N.Y., at the base of the Tug Hill Plateau, a heavily forested region in upstate New York, almost exactly due west of the Upper Valley, sandwiched between Lake Ontario to the west and the Adirondacks to the east. The region is known for its snow, and 6 feet of hard snowpack isn t unusual. His mother is a kindergarten teacher, and his father teaches the mechanics of gas and diesel engines at a technical school. Bronson, who has an older sister, grew up participating in a broad array of outdoor activities, standing next to his father s shoulder, he said. I did as much hunting and fishing as I could — and still get good grades. When asked by the teacher in his 5th grade homeroom what he wanted to be when he grew up, he announced that he wanted to be a game warden. He graduated in 2012 from the State University of New York, Geneseo, with a major in geography, and minors in environmental and urban studies, and immediately applied to the fish and game departments in New Hampshire and Vermont, but New Hampshire was his first choice. When he talked to conservation officers in both states, it struck him that in New Hampshire, by far, everyone said that it was the best job you could ever have. That sold me. When he applied, he was one of hundreds seeking one open position. Currently, said Col. Kevin Jordan, chief of the law enforcement division of New Hampshire Fish and Game, the department has 400 applicants for two openings. To qualify for consideration, an applicant must have, Jordan said, at least two years of college training in a wildlife or related field, or a two year minimum law enforcement or military experience, or a combination of those. Acceptance into the department is contingent on passing a battery of rigorous mental and physical aptitude exams, a thorough background check, a polygraph and psychological evaluation, which is usually a 60-day process, Jordan said. Given the realities of gun violence in the U.S., trainees are also coached in how to go into an active shooter situation. Once those hurdles are cleared, and an applicant accepts the job, an officer goes through the police academy and a year of on-the-job conservation officer training. An officer must be thoroughly versed not only in the state and federal laws regarding fish and game, but also in the standards and codes for law enforcement. We re very strict and I think that s why we get such good candidates, Jordan said. Bronson is gung-ho about the work he does. I strongly feel that I m here as a public servant. We get paid by the sportsmen and women of the state. More than once he calls his position the greatest job in the world. He also likes a good story, and is talkative himself, with a pleasingly old-fashioned vernacular. A pugnacious hunter, caught doing something he shouldn t have been, tells Bronson, in Bronson s retelling, to basically go pound rocks. (The language was probably more colorful.) There is an ungodly number of turkeys on a back road in Cornish. Listening to the police scanner, which is part of his job, he hears what he calls excited utterances, or, to put it another way, hooting and hollering, indicating that something is afoot. Describing something that happened to him when he was young, he said his age at the time was in the single digits. A nuisance raccoon in a backyard is called Ricky Raccoon. On rounds to the registration stations, which are usually found in local stores and fire stations, he chats away as he checks the registration slips, which record the date and location of where a deer was killed, to see whether any suspected poachers have fudged the information. His laugh emerges as a whoop, followed by a sputtering chortle. Even the hunters like him, said a firefighter at the Newport Fire Station. It s an assessment seconded by Dale Sandy, owner of the The Tackle Shack in Newbury: He s very good at talking to customers and explaining things. Although Bronson has had relationships in the past, he is currently single. The nature of the job makes it difficult to have a personal life. Last year, wired on endless cups of coffee, he worked 21 hours the first day of rifle season for deer. A huge number of hunters descend on the woods each fall and will take around 11,000 deer with rifle, bow and muzzle-loader. Bronson works seven days on, two days off, and once a month is given a four-day weekend. This was the first year he had Thanksgiving off, and he volunteers to work on Christmas because he is single. Long hours, with day blurring into night and back to day, are not unusual. In August, Bronson participated in a search and rescue on Mount Squam, near Sandwich. Three siblings had hiked up the mountain, but took a wrong turn as the light was fading, missing the turn to the trail that would take them back down. They had neglected to take with them food, a change of clothing or flashlights. It s unreal to me how many people go out to see the sunset and think they re going to just walk back out, Bronson said. I can t even find my car keys in the dark. At around 9 p.m. the three hikers called 911 for help. At 9:15 Bronson got the call from one of his superior officers to come to Sandwich; by 9:30 he was out the door of his apartment, with enough gear for the hikers and himself to get back safely; by 11:30 he was in Sandwich. Because the three had a cell phone, Bronson and another officer were able to locate them using GPS coordinates, By 5:30 a.m. he was back in Cornish, as the sun was rising. A few hours sleep, and he was back at work. That search-and-rescue was relatively easy, with a good outcome. But then there are the search-and-recoveries, which have no good outcomes. At the end of June he was called to Boscawen to assist in the recovery of a 10-year-old boy and his stepfather, both of whom had drowned in the Merrimack River. That was the toughest one I had in a long time, Bronson said. Although he had already been on search-and-recovery missions and seen a number of fatalities resulting from accidents on snowmobiles or ATVs, hikers who collapse, this one involved a child. That one was hard for me, because it was something I had yet to have to cross, he said. You can t look at a 10-year old and say it s just a body, it s always a 10-year-old who was going for a swim. The way I ve always said it to myself driving home from those things is, I have a mission and I focus on the mission, not anything else, and get it accomplished the best I can. Like any conservation officer, Bronson performs such a wide variety of tasks as part of his job that listing them all would be like unrolling a never-ending scroll. In winter he is out on the trails and frozen lakes and ponds, checking for speed and intoxication of snowmobilers. He teaches the laws applying to both hunting and off-highway recreational vehicles in courses required for drivers of OHR vehicles. There are search and rescues throughout the year, but summer is when the number shoots through the roof, he said. In spring he stocks bodies of water with fish and checks to make sure that anglers are properly licensed, not taking fish in a catch-and-release area and not taking more than their limit of different fish species. In summer he s out on the lakes, checking boat registrations and operation. Fall, the busiest time of year, is given over to bear and deer hunters. Year-round, he testifies in cases involving fish and game violations that go to court and fields calls to come to people s houses to deal with suspected rabid animals. There are the mercy killings: dispatching injured wildlife with his .357 Sig Sauer handgun. There are wild animals that have attacked pets and are shot so they can be tested for rabies. This summer, he was alerted to a moose near Sunapee Harbor that was standing in place, not moving, for hours. The diagnosis was brain worm, in most cases a terminal disease. Because there s a minute chance that a moose can recover, Bronson waited a day to see whether it looked better: It didn t, and he shot it. His code when dealing with hunters, many of whom, he said, have been hunting longer than I ve been alive, is respect. If I were in their shoes, how would I expect to be treated, how would I hope to be treated? Bronson said. This fall, while staking out a field, he saw what appeared to be a shiner, which turned out to be two teenage boys. They had guns in the truck and were using a flashlight, which is illegal and would normally result in being charged with a misdemeanor. Knowing that a misdemeanor charge would result in a criminal record for both, which has the potential to affect future employment or the ability to take out student, or other, loans, he decided not to charge them. For me, honesty goes a long way. With the two kids, they said, `Yeah, we re looking for a place to set up tomorrow, but we re not shooting deer tonight, Bronson said. Just because he is talking to someone, he said, doesn t mean a citation is going to be issued. As someone who grew up hunting, and now carries, in addition to his handgun, a rifle and shotgun, Bronson tries not to be complacent around firearms, although he knows it is a danger, particularly during hunting season. Every single person we deal with at this point has a gun. You kinda get falsely comfortable with guns, Bronson said. He has never felt in imminent danger around hunters, he said, but has been called to other situations where he has felt a heightened awareness, when the hair on the back of his neck stands up. His mortality is not a constant preoccupation, but it is at the back of his mind. I try not to, but I definitely think about it. The way I deal with thinking about stuff like that is just getting through the mission. If I m going on a search that, in my opinion, is dangerous, that s really how I get through it. There s been some search and rescues that have been very trying, but I ve never really felt I was in a situation where I felt I almost didn t make it out, he said. Toward Labor Day, Bronson heads out in the department motorboat on Lake Sunapee, casting off from Sargent s Marina in Newbury. The day is blustery, a bank of clouds scuds across the sky and there s a sharp, autumnal north wind. On a Thursday, the lake is quieter than it would be on the weekend, fewer boaters and swimmers. The whitecaps on the lake may be keeping some people away. As he steers the boat away from the shore and into the center of the lake, he opens up the throttle. The boat skims across the surface of the chop, and jolts up and down with the waves. It s possible from the center of the lake to see Mount Kearsarge, Mount Cardigan and, if you angle it right and it s clear enough, Mount Ascutney. Bronson slows the boat down as he motors into the inlets, where the shores are lined with vacation homes. Here the water is calm and the sun strong and hot. As he passes boats on the water that have no apparent or visible registration, he calls out to the pilots, asking whether the boats are registered. Assured that they are, he calls out, Awesome! Disregard! In Newbury Harbor, he reminds the operator of a motorboat with three passengers in it that they might want to consider not turning their boat so close to his. Throughout his attitude is genial and unruffled. Later in the fall, he will say, I never get bored. I had a ride-along on Saturday with a guy who wanted to be a game warden. He told the would-be warden, he said, that the work wasn t a job in the conventional sense, but a vocation, a way of life. How many jobs can you do where someone doesn t go home because he s having so much fun? Bronson said. And then he grinned. Nicola Smith can be reached at [email protected]

Holiday giving: 10 gifts for the fashionable man

Buying a gift for the man in your life can be hard, but it s a little more fun if you view it as shopping for yourself. Whether your significant other is sartorially inclined or you re trying to up his game, here are 10 clothing and accessories pieces that he ll feel comfortable and chic donning. And, as a bonus, all of them can be borrowed by you. Zara Structured Jacket [1] ($50). Really more of a cardigan, this knit piece has contrasting navy trim for preppy good looks. Everlane The Twill Weekender [2] ($98 at This chic, waterproof bag goes with everything and is masculine in cotton twill with leather handles. Unlimited Digital Access. $1 for 4 weeks. [3] New Balance Sneaker Politics Case 999 [4] ($165 at Likelihood, Capitol Hill). Comfort gets crazy cool with these suede and leather kicks featuring a paisley-printed tongue and red accents on the sole. Garrett Leight Brooks Sun Sunglasses [5] ($375 at This classic style comes in an array of frame and lens finishes, but our favorite is the Whiskey Tortoise With Green Polarized Glass. If in doubt, you can upload his photo to the site and virtually try on any pair you like. Richard Sherman SEA Believe T-Shirt [6] ($30 at Is he a ride-or-die Seahawks fan? Then help him believe again with this shirt from Richard Sherman s official apparel line. Rubinacci Knitted Silk Tie [7] ($120 at Skinny knit ties are a modern way to dress up. This one is made of soft silk in bold but versatile hues, including a great deep plum. Levi s The Trucker Jacket [8] ($70 $88 at He ll get loads of wear out of this straight-cut medium-weight denim jacket. It comes in a wide array of hues to best match his style. H&M Knit Scarf [9] ($13). Give him a bit of European polish with this fine-knit scarf in dark gray. The subtle pattern and fringe ends give it just a bit of extra style. Topman Khaki Patch Pocket Bomber Jacket [10] ($100 at An on-trend look for winter, this bomber jacket comes in a classic Army-green shade with two big pockets for stashing a phone and wallet. Tommy Bahama Sea Glass Breezer Linen Shirt [11] ($98). This 100 percent linen shirt is cool and breezy, making it a perfect layering piece for the cold-weather months. And then he ll wear it all summer, as well. ShopNW staff contributed to this story. References ^ Zara Structured Jacket ( ^ Everlane The Twill Weekender ( ^ Unlimited Digital Access. $1 for 4 weeks. ( ^ New Balance Sneaker Politics Case 999 ( ^ Garrett Leight Brooks Sun Sunglasses ( ^ Richard Sherman SEA Believe T-Shirt ( ^ Rubinacci Knitted Silk Tie ( ^ Levi s The Trucker Jacket ( ^ H&M Knit Scarf ( ^ Topman Khaki Patch Pocket Bomber Jacket ( ^ Tommy Bahama Sea Glass Breezer Linen Shirt (

The anatomy of the Fox River Grove crash

Editor’s Note: This article appeared in the Daily Herald in the fall of 1995 after the Fox River Grove train-bus crash that killed seven students. At first after the crash, the inside of the darkened school bus echoed with an eerie silence. No wails, no panic, no curses, no frenzied moves for escape. Just a still pall that belied the deadly crushing force of the 600-ton commuter train that moments before ripped the shell of the bus from its chassis and slammed it spinning into a traffic light. “There was dead silence when I got there,” said Fox River Grove Police Chief Robert Polston, who witnessed the crash that fateful morning and was the first rescue worker to make it to the bus. “You couldn’t hear anything.” Seven students were dead or dying. The bus driver and 27 others were injured. Outside the bus, the scene in those first few seconds was orderly but whirling. The steel train wheels squealed as the engineer brought the speeding express commuter to a stop far down the track. Polston – stunned by the crash and oblivious to the rush-hour traffic – raced across Route 14 toward the wreckage and radioed for help. Motorists jumped out of their cars pointing and shouting. “Oh, my God!” one said in a 911 call to police dispatchers. And the warning bells at the crossing continued to peal. The force of the crash threw at least one student through a back window; some witnesses thought they saw as many as four. But inside the bus, most of the students remarkably were still in their seats, some lying against or over others, but many still sitting. They sat with their injuries in darkness – the crash had knocked out the lights in the bus – and in momentary quiet. Eventually, as the daze wore off, some of the students became hysterical. The shaken driver, also near hysterics, shouted for students to get off the bus and radioed in to report the accident. But for many of the survivors, the reality did not sink in until much later. One student picked up his books and made his way off the bus as though it had just delivered him to school. Another walked to a nearby convenience store and ordered a cup of hot chocolate. “Everyone was kind of in shock,” Assistant Fire Chief Jim Kreher recalled. “Everyone was asking what happened.” What happened? There is no simple explanation for what happened on the morning of Oct. 25. The day began in Fox River Grove the way weekday mornings do nine months out of the year across the nation – students with full lives ahead of them getting on a bus to go to school. It began in Crystal Lake the way weekday mornings do throughout the year in most metropolitan areas of the country – commuters with full days ahead of them getting on a train to go to work. In Fox River Grove, 36 Cary-Grove High School teenagers, mostly freshmen and sophomores, rode a bus that was running about 20 minutes late with substitute driver Patricia Catencamp behind the wheel. In Crystal Lake, about 20 to 25 passengers boarded Chicago-bound train No. 624, engineered by Dotson Ford Jr., that would make express time with only 15 stops and speeds as fast as 70 mph. Fate brought the two together in Fox River Grove in a surreal moment at a lightly traveled crossing at Algonquin Road, 45 feet southwest of busy Route 14. In the aftermath, the crash site would be designated as Seven Angels Crossing in memory of the students who died. Prior to the tragedy, it had been known only for the frequent complaints it produced about the timing of the traffic signals. The atmosphere on the bus that morning was not overly boisterous, as some have speculated. Still, the bus radio was playing, which wasn’t normally the case, and that made it difficult in the front of the bus to hear noise from the back. Teenagers tend to be mischievous by nature, however, and one student tried several times to misdirect the substitute driver light-heartedly in a prankish voice. But most of the teenagers were tired and cold from the long chilly wait for the bus, and their exchanges were limited, for the most part, to carefree bantering. At about 7:09 a.m., two of them looked out the window at passing scenery and joked about the ducks in a frigid pond on the west side of Lexington Avenue. Then the bus headed up Algonquin and stopped at the tracks. The driver opened the door as required by a stop-look-and-listen safety regulation, then drove over the tracks and edged down a short slope to stop for a red light just beyond the crossing. The back of the bus hung about 4 feet over the rail right of way. The warning lights at the crossing started; the gates began dropping. At first, when one of the teenagers yelled that a train was coming, several students laughed. Then one of the gates hit the side of the bus. It was 7:11. Tragedy approached with a screaming train whistle. Catencamp apparently was not aware the bus had failed to clear the tracks. But many students were. “You could see the terror in their eyes,” said one witness, Colleen Bachinsky, who was waiting at the nearby depot. “They knew before the impact they were going to get hit.” What happened? Many have suggested the answer is simple: The bus shouldn’t have been on the tracks. But the explanation is more complicated than that. A Daily Herald examination of the tragedy suggests that while the driver made a human error in judgment, she was more a victim than a villain. She was confused by a crossing and an intersection that had confused scores of other motorists. The explanation for what happened carries national implications for rail and school bus safety. There are 1,823 crossings in the Chicago area, 10,265 in Illinois and 280,000 in the country, and all are governed by an interwoven network of agencies that play multiple roles, but with virtually no oversight and little – if any – accountability. Regulators and traffic engineers say they expect problems revealed in the Fox River Grove crash will lead to changes in standards for highway design and signal operation nationwide. The accident “hopefully will form a catalyst,” said Skokie traffic engineering consultant Willard Alroth. What happened in Fox River Grove on Oct. 25 was a tragedy waiting to happen. The keys to understanding it are the keys to avoiding similar tragedies in the future. A late bus On the last day she would wake, Stephanie Fulham got up at 5 a.m. and showered before rousing her father at 5:30 so he could catch the 6:25 Metra train to Chicago. She styled her hair, recently lightened, dressed and considered, but then decided against, applying some new lipstick – an adventurous shade of green. In her last hour inside her home, Stephanie watched MTV in the living room and chatted with her mother. At 6:30, she pulled the window shade to get a clear view of the bus stop across the street at the corner of Orchard Street and Opatrny Drive, the second of eight stops on a route through the east end of the small distant suburb. With Coolio’s “Gangster’s Paradise” video as a backdrop, Stephanie discussed with her mother her role as a troll in Cary-Grove High School’s production of “The Hobbit.” They talked about buying a red shirt for an upcoming chorus concert. Stephanie was 15, a sophomore who loved swimming, softball and soccer and worked part time at a local pizzeria. “She was like any other teenager,” said her mother, Debbie Fulham. “She would talk on the phone for hours and try to figure out what to wear. She was just a normal teen trying to grow up too soon.” The bus was due at the stop at 6:38. By 6:45, it still hadn’t arrived. Stephanie got anxious, so she slipped on her mother’s blue cardigan and joined the usual five classmates waiting at the corner. Ten minutes later, the bus still hadn’t shown up and Stephanie ran back across the street to ask her mother to give the group a ride in the family van. “Of course I said I would take them,” Debbie Fulham recalled. “I didn’t want them to be late. I was irritated with the bus driver because she was supposed to be there.” She stepped onto her front porch, keys in hand, when the bus came into view. Stephanie called out that she wouldn’t need a ride after all. “I thought they would be late, but I let them go,” Debbie Fulham said. “I had two other kids to send to school.” When Stephanie stepped aboard, the bus was still nearly empty. She took her regular seat near the back – a position traditionally reserved for the older riders. Sophomores Katie Baker, Colleen Kelly and Jim Winterton and freshman Erik Marshall got on at the same stop and also chose seats near the back. The bus crept slowly through the north side of town, picking up students along School Street, Ski Hill Road and Oak Street. Then it headed to Route 14 and Foxmoor Road, where it crossed the tracks into the Foxmoor neighborhood on the south side of town. Sophomore Kim Coats and freshman Christopher Rose, carefully balancing his book bag and biology poster project, waited at Foxmoor and Asbury roads. The bus was due at 6:44 a.m., and by 6:50 the two wondered aloud where it was. Christopher, though, wasn’t worried, figuring even if the bus came as late as 7:10, he would get to school by the 7:25 bell. The bus finally arrived at about 7:05. Just a few blocks away, the largest group of students waited at Lexington Avenue and Hunter’s Way, five blocks from the Algonquin Road crossing. More than 10 students waited at that stop, including Jon Anfinsen, Joseph Kalte, Brian and Michael Lucas, Justin Petrutis, Jason and Teresa Robertson, Lehn Shepherd and Natalie Wians. Although it was light, the sun hadn’t risen yet. Temperatures were in the low 40s, and the group quickly became chilled. By 7 a.m., the teens were antsy. Natalie left to find another ride. “She asked if anybody else wanted a ride,” freshman Jon Anfinsen said. “Everyone decided to wait for the bus.” It finally arrived at about 7:08. Jon took his customary seat in the third row behind the driver. The crowd was smaller than usual, he noticed – only 36 students instead of the usual 45 to 50. Although the bus was behind schedule, the students were relaxed as it approached the crossing. “Everybody’s pretty quiet because everybody’s tired,” Christopher Rose explained, adding that many freshmen had yet to adjust to Cary-Grove’s 7:25 a.m. starting time. At Fox River Grove Junior High, classes did not start until 7:55 a.m. A substitute driver At the transportation center at Crystal Lake South High School, the day started badly. The bus system, a joint operation of Crystal Lake High School District 155 and Crystal Lake Elementary District 47, had been advertising for substitute drivers with little luck. With about eight of some 100 regular drivers reporting in sick on Oct. 25, dispatchers first called on the six substitutes, most of them housewives or retirees. With two routes left to fill, Transportation Director Richard Hansen was assigned to take one route. For the other, Route 608, the dispatchers turned to Catencamp, the assistant director. Its regular driver, Lynn Thames, had called to say she could not drive because her son, who has cancer, was very ill. Catencamp, 54, is a licensed bus driver who had been called upon fairly frequently to drive fill-in routes and had driven another route just the day before, but she had never driven Route 608. At the transportation center, she had a reputation for being safety conscious. She regularly included safety tips in information packets she put together for the drivers. By the time she headed southeast on Route 14 from Crystal Lake to Fox River Grove, the bus already was late. Catencamp was unfamiliar with the bus route, so at the first stop, Opatrny Drive and Lincoln Avenue, she asked the first passenger who boarded if he would help provide directions. He was freshman Zachary Davis, who was walking to his regular seat in the third row from the back when Catencamp asked him to sit up front directly behind her. “I need someone to help with the route,” she told him. “Sure,” he replied. A troubled signal At 7 a.m., Chief Polston usually was in his office sorting through the overnight police reports. On this Wednesday, the early hour found him in the parking lot of Cafe Salsa, a new restaurant on Route 14. With him was Robert McWilliams, a signal engineer with the Illinois Department of Transportation who had picked up Polston at the police station in an IDOT car so they could test the signals at Algonquin and Route 14. Those signals had proved so troublesome that state highway contractors had checked them on Oct. 24, the day before the crash. Dozens of times in three years, Polston, his nine full-time officers and motorists had complained to IDOT about the signals at the Algonquin Road and Lincoln Avenue crossings in town. Drivers had complained they barely had enough green-light time to pull their cars over the tracks. Railroad and Illinois transportation officials received at least 45 complaints since 1993 about that crossing and 22 similar complaints about the nearby Lincoln Avenue crossing. Problems with the signal timing at Algonquin Road accounted for at least 21 of those complaints. Just a month before the bus-train crash, a train sheared off the bumper of a truck when the driver was blocked on those same tracks by a car waiting at a red light that did not change quickly enough. Unsatisfied with the latest report that the traffic lights were working as they were supposed to, Polston had summoned McWilliams. At 7:10 a.m., the two were staying warm inside the IDOT car, parked in the restaurant lot on the north side of Route 14 at the Algonquin Road intersection. They were bent over a laptop computer as McWilliams explained how they would use it to check the signal synchronization at Algonquin Road and later at the Lincoln Avenue crossing farther west. The mood on the bus On the bus, Zach Davis was doing his best to give Catencamp directions, but his efforts were being complicated by a girl who was trying to have a little fun with the substitute driver. “I was just giving her basic directions: Turn right here, turn left there,” he recalled. “(Another student) kept contradicting me to confuse her. When I’d say left, she’d say right.” Although the regular driver preferred strict quiet, the students got Catencamp to play the radio. “It gets kind of boring, and we end up falling asleep, so we asked her to turn on the radio,” Zach recalled. “I guess it was kind of stupid.” As the bus headed up Lexington Avenue toward Algonquin Road and the short jaunt to the right to Route 14, it passed the pond. Jon Anfinsen and Justin Petrutis, sitting on the west side of the bus, joked that the ducks looked like they were moving mechanically in a chain on the cold water. “We were still half asleep,” Jon said. It was a normal autumn morning, with no hint of unusual danger. Despite the complaints, generally unpublicized about the Algonquin Road crossing, an average of 509 vehicles drove over it every day with rarely any incident. As the bus approached the crossing, Zach Davis listened to music and thought about making up cardiovascular day in gym class he had missed. There is no traffic light on the southwest side of the tracks, just the one set of signals on Route 14 about 45 feet past the crossing. But as she approached the crossing, Catencamp stopped in front of the tracks as required by regulation. “The radio was on,” Zach Davis recalled. “Her window was cracked open. It was cold so she didn’t want it open much. “She opened the door to look down the tracks. I looked both ways, too. I always do; I don’t know why. I didn’t see anything.” The light facing Algonquin on Route 14 was red. Lynn Thames, the regular driver on the route, said she normally didn’t drive across the tracks until that traffic signal turned green. A sensor in the street triggered the light when a car or bus stopped before the tracks. But Catencamp was unfamiliar with the intersection. She later told police that she assumed the sensor was buried only in the small sloping patch of street on the other side of the tracks and that in order to trigger the light, she’d have to cross the tracks. So she pulled the bus up and stopped it at the white “stop” line in front of the intersection, then let it roll 2 or 3 feet past. The white line was 30.5 feet from the edge of the crossing, 14.5 feet from the edge of Route 14. The bus was about 38 feet long. Thomas P. Scherschel, Catencamp’s attorney, said she didn’t edge farther toward Route 14 because she thought the bus had cleared the tracks. By law, investigators said, she could not pull past the white line. Polston, from his vantage point, found the explanation plausible. “I’m not making excuses for her, but the bus was facing down on an angle,” he said. “She was looking backwards up through the mirror, and it’s possible her perception is off. It may look to you that you have cleared a certain area when you really haven’t.” As she waited for the light to turn green, the crossing signals behind her began flashing and sounding. They were set by Union Pacific Railroad to go off a minimum of 20 seconds before the train arrived. But in synchronizing the traffic signals on Route 14, IDOT followed a 4-year-old notice by the Chicago & North Western Ry., which was purchased by Union Pacific last spring, that the minimum time was 25 seconds. IDOT’s formula for the lights allowed for Route 14 traffic to continue on green for as long as 12 seconds after the warning signal sounded to enable pedestrians to proceed through the intersection; another 4.5 seconds for a yellow light; and another 1.5 seconds between the Route 14 light to turn red and the Algonquin Road light to turn green. In other words, it allowed as many as 18 seconds to pass after the warning signal sounded, for the light on Algonquin to turn green. With the minimum train arrival time of 25 seconds that IDOT assumed, that would allow for a seven-second cushion to clear the tracks. At 20 seconds, only two, barely enough time even to react. “Obviously, we miscommunicated some way,” Illinois Transportation Secretary Kirk Brown later acknowledged. “Obviously, we thought one thing and the railroad thought another.” Catencamp told authorities she never saw the light turn green. Other witnesses say it might have turned, but only moments before the crash. As the seconds ticked away in the bus, Lane Gillis, a sophomore sitting in the back, looked west down the track and saw the express commuter’s lights. “Train!” he screamed. Many of the students laughed, assuming the bus would pull up. Then, the crossing gate hit the side of the bus between the metal panel and the metal under the window. “I kind of heard a little clunk when it hit,” Jon Anfinsen recalled. “I don’t know how the driver couldn’t hear it.” But Catencamp never heard Gillis’ scream and never heard the gate, her attorney said. Zach Davis, in his seat behind the driver, never did either. “They might have been screaming,” he said, “but I don’t think anybody in front heard that because I didn’t. It was real hard to hear anything at all.” Outside, bystanders and nearby motorists also screamed out futile warnings. “Go! Go!” shouted Jim Homola, who was stopped on the other side of the tracks on the way to drop his children off at school. In the train, engineer Dotson Ford Jr. hit the emergency brakes, but at 69 mph, there was no way to stop the express commuter in time. In the IDOT car across Route 14, Polston looked up just in time to watch the horrifying scene. “I saw it coming when the gate hit the bus,” he said. “I looked to the right, and there was the light on the cab car.” Instinctively, Polston jumped out of the IDOT car and began running through the rush-hour traffic toward the bus. “I don’t know how I got across without being hit,” he said. “Maybe everybody was as stunned as I was.” The violent crash The horror took place in a matter of seconds. In the final instant, several students at the back – Lane Gillis and Lehn Shepherd, among them – rushed to get toward the front, but they made little headway in the jammed narrow aisle. Zach Davis, who did not hear the shouts of “Train!” and did not hear the gate hit the bus, heard the horn of the train. The train was traveling 59 mph at the time of impact. “The next thing I knew,” sophomore Taben Johanson said, “the bus was spinning around.” The crash was like an explosion. Investigators theorize that there were four impacts, all taking place almost instantaneously: m The train, slamming into the left rear of the bus, sent the passenger compartment spinning, ripping it off the chassis. m The shell of the bus spun a little less than 180 degrees, then collided again with the second car of the speeding train. m That propelled the bus into the air, bouncing into a third collision against a traffic light standard on the southeast corner of Algonquin and Route 14. m And then it fell to the ground for a fourth crash. Inside the bus, students bounced off each other, seats, walls and windows. By the time the bus came to rest, the walls were dented and virtually all the windows were shattered. The seats were intact, including the one that took the brunt of the train’s force; it was bent but still anchored. “Everybody was just thrown up against the walls,” sophomore Teresa Robertson said. Authorities believe four students were thrown from the bus – Jeffrey Clark, 16; Michael Hoffman, 14; Joseph Kalte, 16; and Shawn Robinson, 14. All had been sitting in the back of the bus. All died at the scene. Authorities also said that the three others who died later at area hospitals – Susana Guzman, 18; Stephanie Fulham, 15; and Tiffany Schneider, 15 – also had been sitting in the back. They were found inside the bus’s crumpled shell. It is unclear whether Tiffany had been among those who tried to move toward the front to escape the impact. Some students said she rode in the back. But after the crash, rescue workers found her seated in the middle of the bus. Those students still conscious sat momentarily dazed. “Even though the sun was shining, it was really dark inside the bus,” Jon Anfinsen said. “You couldn’t see much. It was almost like twilight.” Christopher Rose came to with an enormous headache. His head apparently had slammed against a window. “My head hurt so badly, I thought I might have experienced some sort of memory loss,” he said. “I just tried to remember my name, address and phone number.” Zach Davis hit his head on the seat and on the window beside him. There was an eerie quiet and then screaming, he recalled. “People were screaming, but it was like there was no noise,” he said. “Everybody was screaming and the bus driver stood up and said, ‘Get off the bus!’ “And then, she radioed in. She said there had been a severe accident, and then I just got up and walked off the bus.” The scene At the moment of the crash, Chief Polston had almost reached the curb on the southwest side of Route 14. “I ran over to the east side to see what was there, and I saw the four kids,” Polston said. “There was dead silence when I got there. It was eerie. I haven’t seen anything like that since Vietnam.” He radioed an emergency call to dispatchers in Crystal Lake. Three onlookers called 911 within seconds of the crash. One described the accident as having “multiple, multiple injuries.” Assistant Fire Chief Kreher was sipping coffee at the Lincoln Avenue Eatery a few blocks north of the crash scene when the call came over the radio. Traffic already had backed up on Route 14, so he drove his Ford pickup down the middle of the road to the scene. As soon as he saw the four boys outside the bus, he called for extra ambulances. Parents and onlookers were already gathering. “There was a nice bubble around us that just let us work,” Kreher said. “That was something that amazed me.” Most of the students were helped out the front door of the bus. Some had to be extricated. The triage unit began tagging the injured, based on the urgency of their injuries. Four were tagged black, unlikely to survive; 8 to 10 were tagged red, seriously injured but with a chance for survival if treated quickly; and the rest were tagged with yellow and green, injuries that were not life-threatening. Among those receiving a red tag was Stephanie Fulham. She was the first victim sent to Lutheran General Hospital in Park Ridge. She would never regain consciousness. Back at her house on the other side of Route 14, Debbie Fulham was still seeing the rest of her children off for the day. Friends of Stephanie’s sister, Christina, started congregating at the house before making their way to school. One of the girls had news. Had they heard about the school bus accident? A high school bus had been hit by a truck at Algonquin Road and Route 14, the girl told them. Debbie Fulham sighed, pulled on a jacket and climbed into the van. She didn’t know that her life had been hit by tragedy. “I thought I would go and pick up as many as I could to get them to school,” she said. “They were so late already.” Only about 15 minutes had passed since Stephanie had left the house; there was no way to comprehend any sense of calamity. “I had no idea,” Debbie Fulham said. Daily Herald Projects Editor Diane Dungey and staff writer Amy Carr also contributed to this report.

Kylie Jenner debuts her newly-sprayed matte grey $320000 Ferrari

Her boyfriend Tyga presented her with a white Ferrari 482 Italia for her 18th birthday. But it seems the lavish $320,000 vehicle wasn’t quite to Kylie Jenner [1] ‘s taste since the Keeping Up With The Kardashians starlet appears to have already spray painted the sports car a matte grey colour. Kylie [2] debuted her pimped up ride during a shopping spree with Pia Mia, 18, at Barneys New York in Beverly Hills on Sunday, enjoying a much-needed catch up with her BFF following her extended family holiday. [3] [4] Scroll down for video Girls’ day out: Kylie Jenner and her BFF Pia Mia got in some retail therapy at Barneys New York in Beverly Hills on Sunday The star, who showed off her midriff in a crop top, arrived at the shop with her pal in her grey Ferrari, which appeared to be the exact same car she was given for her birthday. Kylie strutted her stuff in grey Nike sneakers and topped her look off with a grey trucker hat as she carried a little black purse and a black shopping bag. The raven-haired beauty concealed her eyes behind oversized mirrored sunglasses and glammed up the look with several gold Cartier bracelets. Hot wheels: The ladies drove off in a luxurious grey matte Ferrari (L), which appeared to be the exact same $320,000 vehicle her boyfriend Tyga had given her for her 18th birthday earlier this month (R) Off they go: Jenner made her way through LA traffic in her post-makeover vehicle First things first! The 18-year-old reality star got to catch up with her best friend upon returning home from vacation in celebration of her birthday Pia Mia followed suit, showing off her midriff in a low-cut black crop top paired with high-waisted hot pants as she strode along in white sneakers. The Do It Again hitmaker, who hails from Guam, added a long grey cardigan for dramatic effect and accessorized with gold necklaces and aviator sunglasses. The ladies drove off in her newly-matte grey Ferrari, which Kylie proudly showcased on her Instagram account with no reference to its original colour. Sporty chic: The Keeping Up With The Kardashians star showed off her midriff in a white crop top paired with grey leggings On trend: Kylie strut her stuff in grey Nike sneakers and topped her look off with a grey trucker hat as she carried a little black purse and a black shopping bag Kylie’s car is one of the best money can buy and its $320,000 price tag certainly doesn’t come cheap. According to Auto Express, the Ferrari seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox shifts in the blink of an eye, while the standard ceramic brakes deliver massive stopping power. She looked overcome with emotion when she received the gift from her rapper beau Tyga outside Bootsy Bellows in Hollywood earlier this month in front of all her friends and family. Sporty: The reality star was dressed to hit the gym in her leggings Shop ’til you drop: The gal pals were spotted leaving Barney’s New York The gift was a risky one since Kylie has crash her cars in the past, most famously getting into an accident in 2013 just 18 days after she got her licence. And earlier this month, Kylie was forced to take to Twitter to deny rumours she had already crashed her expensive birthday present. She retweeted a post by British star Jake Quickenden who had written, ‘Kylie Jenner crashed her Ferrari. Whatttttt…. Glad she’s ok but that’s 295,000 down the toilet’, and added,’Just a rumour Following her shopping spree with Pia, Kylie posted an image of the sunglasses she purchased, captioning it: ‘today’s catch’. The reality star was present at Pia Mia’s performance the night before, even coming on stage to greet the crowd. Kylie shared an Instagram video shot by a fan, showing her on stage as the crowd went wild. Coming to a full stop: The sister of Kendall Jenner appeared to still be inside her sporty car She captioned it: ‘went to [email protected] perform last night & she dragged me on. Lol u were amazing Ppod I love u’ The day before, Kylie also enjoyed a low-key movie date with her boyfriend, rapper Tyga, 25. The two have just returned from vacation in St Barts, flying home from the French island on Friday. Nice ride: Pia was also spotted approaching Kylie’s parked car Kylie and Tyga were also joined by Kris and Kendall Jenner, as well as Kim, Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian, and Kourtney and Kim’s children. They got in plenty of outdoor activities, including lounging aboard a yacht, jet-skiing, parasailing and riding water jet packs. Kylie and Tyga stayed by each other’s sides, riding aboard the same jetski and holding hands as they blasted into the air with their water jetpacks. Happy couple: The day before, Kylie enjoyed a low-key movie date with her boyfriend, rapper Tyga, 25 All the while, the E! cameras rolled, capturing footage for Keeping Up With The Kardashians. It has been quite a week of jet-setting for the famous family, as they were previously vacationing in Punta Mita, Mexico. In Mexico, Kylie was also joined by a couple of her best gal pals, including Pia Mia and model Hailey Baldwin. Before hitting Mexico, Kylie celebrated her milestone birthday with a lively bash in Montreal, Canada. Splish splash! The couple relaxed on their paddleboard in St Barts on Friday Flying high: Kylie and Tyga held hands while blasting into the air with their water jetpacks in St Barths on Wednesday Rest and relaxation: Kylie and Tyga lounged aboard a luxury yacht in St Barths on Wednesday, both taking a technology break I’m on a boat! Kylie shared this snap aboard a yacht on Thursday, with the caption, ‘Anaconda’ References ^ Kylie Jenner ( ^ Kylie ( ^ ( ^ (