August 2002

But I'm not writing to insult your intelligence, at least not deliberately. What I will try to do is project myself backwards in time and space a little bit (being careful, I don't want a Zaphod Beeblebrox to happen (for those of you who are unaware of what happened to Zaphod, let's just say he is older than his grandfather, due to 'an accident with a time machine and a contraceptive'. Now, I'm not currently in a situation where procreation could possibly occur, but, well, this parenthesis is getting totally out of hand, being a nested one and all. I think I'll wander back to my main thought somehow.)). All of which is to say that I did the unthinkable and drove 4500 km in the space of about 6 days. That's 2800 miles, give or take a few. That's an awful lot of driving. Of course, I also played 18 holes, which was also a lot of driving. But that's a story to be told in its proper place, and good order and proper decorum are called for when telling a story of this (non-) magnitude.

My journey began on a cold and windy day in December, with the gales blowing in fr... no, that's not MY story. Scratch that out.

My journey begins on an unassuming Sunday morning. It wasn't the morning's fault that I was about to embark on such a journey. Heck, the morning never even so much as said hello or waved goodbye. Which was all right, I suppose, since that would perhaps have had me paying a quick visit to a mental ward if it had. But that morning, the 21st of July, I loaded up my car as loaded as it would go. Or so I thought.

You see, there was a small wrinkle. I had promised Keith and Sandy, a couple at my church, that I would deliver some packages for them to Medicine Hat, since it was more-or-less on my route homeward. When I got to the church to conduct the service and preach that morning, I arrived with my car loaded to bear, for two reasons. One was that I wanted to make a 'quick getaway' as it were, since I had a ferry reservation for the 3 pm sailing (more about that, next paragraph). The other reason was that I wanted the folks at the church to see how loaded my car was when I had moved down (it was equally heavily loaded). The church service went well. I was somewhat sad. Ironically, this was the fastest service I had ever lead (38 minutes... oops!).

After church, Keith discovered a way to get two of the three parcels into the car. I think we could have done all three in retrospect. I went to Pastor and Susan Beiderwieden's for lunch. It was a nice meal, and Pastor and I got to chase each other up to the 3 pm ferry. We arrived at the gates at 2:27, which meant that my reservation was good. The ferry wasn't full, which meant that my reservation wasn't necessary. But it was peace of mind for $15. Whatever that means!

It was kind of neat departing from Vancouver Island with Pastor, since I hadn't met him until I arrived on the island the first time, last July. We were able to delay the inevitable goodbyes, which was kind of nice for me. As it turned out, I wouldn't quite finish saying goodbye to Redeemer's members until Tuesday. (For those of you who are new to this column, yet are hardy enough to have read this far, I spent the last year as a 'vicar' or student pastor at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Langford, BC).

Let me just say this one last time. I hate driving in Vancouver. It's not that bad, if you pick the right time of day. It wasn't that bad this time. Nobody cut me off or did weird things in front of me. I just don't like doing it. Fortunately, I shouldn't have to drive in Vancouver for a little while. At any rate, I went to Uncle Steve's and we walked over to a nearby restaurant. I thought of going to that restaurant, since when I first arrived in BC some 12 months previously, my brother Peter and I had walked over to that same restaurant for a meal. It was a good meal-- it usually is, there, and it was a lovely day.

After seeing Uncle Steve for a bit, I drove down to the Eisners' house in Pitt Meadows, a few miles outside of Vancouver. It was nice to see them again (they had been members at Redeemer before moving to Pitt Meadows). I learned how to play Wizard and just enjoyed being 'off duty' as it were. I also played my mandolin for them.

Oh, you weren't aware of the mandolin? The people of Redeemer threw me a going-away party at the end of June and gave me a mandolin, a Vancouver Canucks hat, and a framed photo of me. Although I don't tend to like looking at myself, it is a good photo.

But yes, where was I... I was in Pitt Meadows, and the living was easy.

Indeed, the living was easy. But the journey had but begun.

(Is that legitimate, using two 'but's in a sentence like that? I'll let you prescriptive grammarians drop me a line at aklages at mergetel dot com to let me know.)

Is this rambling? I hope so.

I left Pitt Meadows on July 22 early in the morning. Well, not early in the morning. Kind of more midmorningish. Round about 9 am or so. A real man would have left at 6 am, darn the torpedos and full steam ahead. Me, I prefer the leisurely drive. Well, maybe not, or I wouldn't have done the trip by Saturday at 1, but we're not there yet. We're still at Monday around 9 am. So yes.

I drove.

Merging onto Highway 1 (the Trans-Canada) was fun. A truck refused to change lanes (the left lane was wide open) and just about squeezed me into a guardrail.

It was to be the first of two near accidents on the day. Actually, there may have been more, but thankfully I'm only aware of two.

The rest of the drive that morning was relatively uneventful. I will describe the scenery for you:
mountains
rivers
trees
mountains
mountains
trees
trees
lake
trees
mountains
etc.

I followed Mike Eisner's advice and did not speed up the Coquihalla, allowing my vehicle to slow down going up some of the impressive inclines. My vehicle was happy about that, I think. It was smiling at me.

So it was that I arrived in Kamloops, bought some gasoline and my last White Spot/Triple O's burger (sigh), and carried on. (mountains mountains floodplain mountains valley valley trees mountains)

I made it to Golden (big mountains) later in the afternoon, round about 5:30 local time (4:30 relative to when I left), bought more gas, a sub at Subway, and gave my mom and dad a call to let them know the trip had gone well so far.

About 1.5 hours later I almost killed myself, quite accidentally. I looked down momentarily to change a cd, I think (I had my portable cd player plugged into the tape player) and the slope of the road was a little more than usual. I looked up to see myself far too close to a concrete side wall of the road. I quickly steered back on course and whispered a brief prayer of thanks. The CD player was not used much on the rest of the trip.

I arrived around 8:30 at the Hautz's home (after of course getting lost in Calgary since I had written a right turn down as a left... woops). Pastor Hautz ,whom I knew, wasn't home, so I was told by their daughter to just make myself at home upstairs, while the teen bible study went on downstairs. I was pretty amused at the open willingness to let a stranger just poke around. But I was too tired to do much poking, and instead just settled into my room and stood around in the kitchen for a bit. After Pastor Hautz got in, we went down the street to a school yard where we played some bocce... free range, on weird slopes! Lots of fun.

Night fell, and my eyelids closed in a reverie of slumber. Well, not quite, but that's the way I like to remember it. The truth of the matter is I did not sleep very well the whole time I was on the road, averaging about 5-6 hours of sleep a night. This was not the fault of anyone in particular so much as it was the intensity of driving as much as I did, and knowing the scope of the journey ahead.

The next morning, after some breakfast, I left. My goal for the day was Winnipeg. It didn't really seem that ambitious. I knew where I had to reach and in approximately what time frame. I was confident I could be in Winnipeg by midnight. Was I ever wrong!

My first stop for the day was at a phone booth, at a gas station, about 30 km outside of Medicine Hat. Sandy from Redeemer had rigged up a meeting with this person in that area for me to drop off those extra parcels. There was an excellent story about a well, some really good chocolate chip cookies, and a nice mug of flavoured coffee in that stop, so it turned out to be about 30 mins longer than I had expected. So the ETA in Winnipeg was now 12:30.

Then I hit Saskatchewan. It rhymes well with 'the driving goes on'. And on.

And on.

Let me describe the general scenery of Alberta and Saskatchewan: rolling farmland mellowing into less-than-rolling farmland, with the occasional tree to break up the view.

I stopped for lunch in Swift Current. A&W Chubby Chicken. Mmm. Then I rolled onward and upward to Regina, where I was to stop by and see John and Mona from Redeemer (John's father had passed away so they were taking care of the estate and visiting family). I got there and they were expecting me to be staying the night, expressing surprise (and a bit of disapproval, I gainsay) that I was planning on voyaging to Winnipeg yet. But they did feed me. Mmmm... real food. However, I got out of there a little late, and needed to get gas. So ETA in Winnipeg was now 1:30.

I voyaged across the rest of Saskatchewan (see above scenery) and the first bit of Manitoba (equally flat, but it doesn't look as flat in the dark), stopping in Brandon at 11 pm for some gas and to place a quick phone call... "Hi Jim... just thought you should know I'm in Brandon right now... I am coming, honest..."

I was making good time, really, but the loss of an hour on the Sask/Man border didn't help matters, time-wise. I finally pulled in to the Scholz's house in Winnipeg at a time better off not repeating, and Jim mentioned that he had a tee-time reserved for 7:30, if I was up to it.

If I was up to it.

Of course I was up to it! I woke up quickly when called in the morning. We made it to the golf course and had a grand old time. None of my clubs, save the putter, were cooperating very well that day, so I ended up doing one hole with just the putter, much to the mirth of Jim, Matt, and the groundskeeper of the course. I got 4 on a par 3, using only a putter. Not bad. We had lunch at the golf course.

For some reason I had a nap on Wednesday afternoon. Go figure. Anyway, I wasn't driving anywhere on Wednesday, so I just kind of bummed around the house, taking a quick wander up Pembina highway in the mid afternoon. I found a copy of Undercover-Live at C2K there cheaply (the re-release) so I picked that up, for the sole and total reason that my name is on the back tray card.

Supper was pizza (mmm). In the evening, I went for a walk with Jim and Sandy and sat around and chatted. It felt good to not have to travel. But I was saving up my energy for the next day.

Thursday dawned, bright and reasonably warm. I left the Scholzes, and made my way up to Beausejour to see the Borchardts via Good Shepherd, Transcona (old stomping grounds) and the Sawatzky's place (they were repainting, so it was ok that I couldn't stay long). I had lunch with Harold and Annette, and waited just long enough for Carissa to get home, then headed off. Destination: Thunder Bay.

I got gas out in some small spot on highway 44 in Manitoba (the town's name eludes me, but my dad knows where it is), then cruised on to Kenora, stopping at the border to pick up a road map. (Ontario, there's no place like home) I stopped by the Ritters, and fortunately Larry was home. I had a glass of water and a quick chat before loading up and driving onward toward Thunder Bay. I had a Mama Burger meal in Dryden at A&W, then stopped for gas and a quick phone call in Uppsala, just to let Jamie and Chris Bosma know I was coming.

I arrived at their place around 10 pm. We stayed up and chatted for a while, then I went to bed and slept the sleep of the weary and travelworn. I woke up in good time in the morning, admiring their shower which was a converted sauna, and got to see their children and enjoy some of that oh-so-familiar-family feeling (read: infants alternately screaming and making strange).

Friday morning was a lovely morning, if a bit gloomy-looking. It wasn't very warm, so I was able to travel with the AC off for most of the day, at least until I reached the Soo. I stopped for lunch at a diner at the Esso at Marathon (make sure you're not going over 100 at Wawa, the cops are crawling there, said the cash register lady), got gas there, then proceeded around the lake, stopping for a Big Xtra meal (substitute salad for fries, raspberry vinaigrette dressing) at the Soo. At this point, I decided to go as far as Espanola for the night.

Which I did. I stopped in Massey for gas, then found a motel in McKerrow (basically Espanola, but on highway 17) for the night. I was within reach of home; I would not need to fill with gas again on this trip. I watched some TV, then fell asleep, sort of. I wanted to get home sooooo badly I could taste it.

So in the morning I headed out, and made it as far as French River before stopping for breakfast (blueberry pancakes and bacon). The travelling was going oh-so-well on 69 until I hit Parry Sound, where traffic went gridlocked. There was a major accident in a 2-lane section, so traffic was backed up for at least 5 km southbound, and 10 km northbound. Nasty.

But I patiently waited through that, and made the turn off the 400 onto County Road 23. I drove through Vasey and Waverley and felt closer and closer to home emotionally. I then decided to drive right through Wasaga Beach and Collingwood on the main roads on a Saturday morning (if this doesn't sound like a big deal, you have never done it). This was a doubly silly idea, given that it was Elvis weekend in Collingwood.

However, it all worked out better than could have been expected. I hit few red lights, and little traffic. So I made it home by 1 pm, and to the family pigroast/reunion by about 3:30.

I think that's a long enough rambling for now. I'll ramble on about another trip for the September column, then maybe get back to a shorter, topical essay in October. Maybe.

Then again, I like this longer format, although it did break my 20 minute rule by about, oh, 4 hours or so of typing. Hmmm. Whatever. Catch you in a couple weeks!