Maxime Bruneau, 24, is from France. He slept in a tent all summer in order to save money to continue the endless summer in New Zealand come November. He works in a local restaurant in the evenings so gets to ride his bike everyday. He has been coming to Whistler for the summer for three years now. It will not be his last.

A summer under canvas,
Saving rent for the endless summer he will harness.
Living life simply so that he may simply live,
thermal bag not warm but the riding stoke it gives.
Praying for a long warm summer,
waking up to rain is the trophy bummer.
Late night adventure into the wood,
a head lamp to guide the way back to his hood.
A lonesome existence at night,
‘cept perhaps that girl from the bar who wanted a fright.
Even though solo, a lone self in forest crowds,
His days with a bounty of friends he surrounds.
Some call it the French Brake,
But we know it’s just a Brown Snake.
Riding with friends,
The soul made amends.
A curious bear, sniffing the air, tearing holes in the sheets,
Careful walk at night fearful not wildlife to meet
Food kept away hidden up trees,
Bikes locked with friends hiding from thieves.
Pissing and shitting into the bush,
Wiping with leaf the fecal push.