Or in other words – Road Trip
A few weeks ago deciding I had had enough I
left on a road trip with my kid. The
weeks leading up to that time had been chaotic and aggravating and I had had
enough. And nothing, for this Prairie-raised
Canadian Boy, is as soothing to the soul as a road trip. So, after work one day, I loaded up the car
with the kid and some crap and left.
The
plan was simple, Edmonton first to have pizza with the group of Drunken
Charismatic Lutherans, then Calgary to see family, then a stop in Drumheller
and then back to the coast – some 2,500 kilometres.
I
know in this day of global warming that such blatant overuse of fossil fuels is
inexcusable. I would hang my head in
shame, but really, I needed the trip, and needed to let my mind slip into neutral. I would promise to walk to the store more
often to balance my carbon footprint, but I am still fatalistic and believe
that we are hurtling to our own demise.
So, in the day of accounting I am willing to stand and admit that I
helped with the laying waste to the earth.
The
kid is easy to travel with, he generally sleeps, which has annoyed me to no end
as he has missed the mountains in the Rockies twice before. But, as he sleeps I am alone with my
thoughts, and able to pray and enjoy the moment.
The
first night he is usually awake. Our
last road trip he played DJ surfing Youtube for songs that we played over the
car’s stereo. A distant cry from the
days of the eight track tape stuck in the player with a folded up cigarette
pack to keep it in place. Technology has
brought us light years; we no longer have to smoke in order to get our tunes to
play.
This
trip he listened to his phone over his earphones, as I drove. At one point I turned and looked at him. His eyes were wide open as he stared out at
the night road. The dashboard lights
gave his skin a creepy hue, and then he turned and looked at me. It looked the set of George Romero movie as
the kid had a slightly living dead look to him.
Edmonton,
was well, Edmontonish. Pizza with the
few friends that showed up was good. A
reminder that life, at least for me, has rarely seemed straight forward. We parted company with hugs and plans for a
thanksgiving of sorts in the fall.
We
left Edmonton the next morning without having eaten. And something about Tim Horton’s just
appealed to me. We drove, actually I
drove, the kid napped, until just north of Red Deer when I saw a highway sign
for Timmie’s. I turned and followed the
sign, and before I knew it, it was like being on the set of a poorly done “B”
horror.
You
know the ones where the hungry human eating Albertans put up the Tim Horton’s
sign, and then a few turn here signs until the person is hopelessly lost. We did make it to Red Deer, and a Tim Horton’s,
but I have no idea just how we made it there, and I am afraid to look under the
car even now for fear of finding a local mutant just waiting.
Calgary
was good. Family, always crazy were more
fun than usual. A cousin of mine has had
an instant family, her husband and three boys through marriage. She, remarkably, looked decided relaxed, maybe
exhaustion becomes her. And, I found my
favourite pizza – smoked oysters, anchovies, banana peppers and onions. Sounds disgusting, BUT, it is so good.
In
Calgary we found the urban version of the horror movie from earlier in the
day. Hungry Calgarians played havoc with
their road signs in order to trap hapless tourists. I got onto Moose Butt Trail, and went north,
and then turned off for the road to Happy Valley. We got turned around so I went back to Moose
Butt Trail to find that it had changed from running North to South to running
East to West. Hmmm.
Fortunately,
there was a lightning storm, so the kid and I were kept entertained as we tried
to get our way through the city. At one
point 14th Avenue North West turned into 84th Avenue
North East, and then stopped at a T-intersection. In an act of desperation I noticed the planes
flying to the airport, the kid and I followed them, and found our way to my
cousin’s house. Any rumours about a red
Kia Soul with BC license plates driving over a golf course have yet to substantiated.
The
next day I went into that den of iniquity called Drumheller. To me it is amazing, and embarrassing that
there are those Christians that believe that Satan has created dinosaurs to
limit our belief in God. For me, it is
just more testament to how great God is that there was a time that the earth
was inhabited by creatures from my childhood sandbox – hold it – or is that the
other way around? Unfortunately, I was
not able to find fossilized dinosaur pooh.
Truly it was saddening.
The
trip back was a miracle. We left
Drumheller at close to one in the afternoon, and stopped at a shopping centre
in Calgary before finishing the drive to Vancouver. We got into Vancouver – Delta – at eleven at
night. I have no idea really how long it
should have taken us, after all it is 1,100 kilometres from there to here. They say it should be about eleven and half
hours, that is without purse shopping.
But we made it here very quickly considering that I did not drive like I
was evading high speed pursuit.
Seventy
Two hours of mayhem, pizza and prayer and meditation. What do I have to show for it?
I
wondered about the flight to Egypt by Jesus and the family, and did he
continually ask, “Are we there yet?” And
did they have donkey stations, where you could tend to the donkey, grab a coke
and go to the washroom?
Mostly,
what I got, is how small I really am. As
I stood before remains of creatures that lived 65,000,000 years before me, I
was reminded that I am insignificant.
Whatever I may fret about will be forgotten as I die, and probably not
even thought of again. As I drove past a
mountain 1,500 times taller than I, I remembered just how small I really
am. And two thousand kilometres was
enough distance to put this all into perspective. Oh and the kid, he actually stayed awake long
enough to see Mt. Robson, and then Fortress Mountain.
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