You are about to read my memoirs of a near 10,000 km adventure across Canada. Part 6 of the memoir is the fateful day when I actually embark on the journey. There is a good amount of story to catch up on which could give a much better context to what you are about to read... so check out parts 1 -5. Links are below.
Part 1:
@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-1
Part 2:
@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-2-globalization-callcenters-and-drywall
Part 3:
@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-3-sobriety-warehouse-workaholics-the-big-idea
Part 4:
@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-4-humanity-stripped-tourism-and-fear-doubt-courage-and-the-will-and-a-bmx
Part 5:
@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-5-tipping-point-survival-the-homeless-and-getting-robbed
Enjoy Part 6!
July 4, 2005 was the day of my departure. My sister and her boyfriend picked me up early that morning (before 9 am... yes, that is early) and drove me out to my grandparents who have a farm a few hours east of the city. We went for a visit, did a few hours of work in the garden (which I tried to do every other week) and I got a wonderful home made (by my gramma) meal. Gramma also stocked me up a bit on fruit bars and gave me a can of beans to take along with me. My grandad told me about the time that he decided to see the country in a similar fashion. He took the old ‘28 chev and drove to Montreal. He ended up working for a while in Ottawa and had some pretty good experiences and some funny stories. He ended up sleeping just outside his car and was woken up by a train... thundering... he thought it was the end of the world. When daylight came, he saw that he was sleeping about 5 feet from the railway tracks.
2:30 arrived quickly and I could no longer avoid the inevitable. I packed up and my things, said my good byes and my sister and her boyfriend drove me for a few miles to the yellowhead highway. They dropped me off 38 km shy of Lloydminister. My sister had trouble dropping me off on the side of the road, but she did and it began for me. I was on the side of the highway a few hours away from home with a backpack and a sign (that I had put together at my grandparents that said “Montreal” on it. I figured it might help me get some rides. I have a friend in Montreal that I emailed to tell him that I may show up but got no response back. It was, however, a planned stop for me... the first planned stop for me. I was dropped off just before 3:00 pm and by 3:30 the first ride had stopped to pick me up.
It is quite an exhillerating feeling to be on the side of the road and see a car signal off to the shoulder and stop a few hundred yards ahead of you. The older red truck was pullin a camper and had a diversity rainbow flag in the back of the camper. I went up to the window and he said with a grin “I’m not goin far but I will take you for a bit.” I put my backpack in the back of his camper and got in his truck. Rob was a 40 - 50 year old guy. He seemed pretty friendly and was openly gay. He told me that he was on the way back from the “Gay Rodeo” in Calgary which, aside from a weather delay, had gone off without a hitch (well... uhhh, you know what I am trying to say). We talked about all sorts of things. He was telling me about real estate in the Lloydminster area. He told me about his European backpacking adventure that he had a few years ago and his hitchhiking across that continent. I was interested in other peoples experiences hitch hiking as it seemed to me as a bit of a lost art. Rob told me that he had no real problems hitch hiking.
I had a friend who told me that her dad mentioned that I should not accept any rides from “homos” because I would get raped and to watch my “skinny virgin ass.” I will admit that her words did make me a bit nervous getting into his vehicle but I was not gonna refuse a ride from anybody, especially on such discriminatory and generalized grounds. Rob was just a nice guy helping me out. He did ask me if I had a girlfriend and I told him that I did not but was in a serious relationship a few years earlier. He asked me if I was bisexual. I said no and had a bit of an awkward feeling and then he asked me another question on a completely different topic. The conversation continued as if he never asked. Although I think there was some potential action available if I were interested. Uhhh. Nope. Rob went out of his way to drive me to the other end of Lloydminster so I would have an easier time getting a ride. I thanked him and he drove off.
I took a few minutes to write down in my journal what had transpired and I was back on track with a thumb up on the side of the highway. It was a beautiful day, clear skies, sun was shining. T shirt weather without a doubt. I was sweating as I walked backwards down the road holding a Montreal sign. I was especially wet on my back behind the backpack. About an hour later a Saturn had stopped to pick me up. I got in the car and met Lee, the air condition technician from Maidstone Saskatchewan. He told me that he could not take me to Montreal but he could take me 55 km to Maidstone with a chuckle. I said that I would be grateful if he did. Shortly after the car started moving Lee blurted out “I hope you smoke weed, cause....” I told him that I would and he finished his sentence, “I just got off of work and I’m smokin' one weather you like it or not.”
I used to smoke weed to a ridiculous degree. I always had a good amount of weed and ended up falling into the “hookup” trap a while ago. Since I always had some on hand, people would come to me to get weed. After a short while I realized that I could smoke for free this way. So, I was a small time pot dealer for a while and I am very glad that those days are over. My friend told me, as he fell into the same trap, that it is something that you don’t intend on doing, it is just something that sort of happens... that is true. I would smoke multiple times daily and whenever else the opportunity presented itself. Now, I rarely ever smoked... perhaps once every couple of months. Before I left for the hitch hiking adventure, myself and Pedro were talking and we both thought it to be a good idea that I take what comes my way on the road as far as mary-jane is concerned. My second ride of the trip and I am already getting stoned…. sheesh!
It was a fairly nice sized joint that Lee and myself passed back and forth several, several times. And man did I get high. When you don’t smoke often and then you smoke, you feel it a lot more.
Lee was all over the road. He was drifting lanes, he was driving straight when the road curved and driving curved when the road was straight. He would consistently almost hit the ditch and then cool and calmly adjust the wheel. There were no cars on the road to speak of and the yellowhead is a divided highway so this was not super sketchy, but, I found this ride to be a bit of a roller coaster at times. After we finished the joint Lee was a bit better of a driver and we got to talking.
Lee sings in a band that was just starting up and was getting into the music scene. He mentioned how he loved music and wanted to start up a label. I mentioned to him that I am also a musician and am interested in starting a label. I went into the benefits of starting up a label which essentially would give people who love making music a way of getting their music out there and thus bypassing the corporate structure which makes it nearly impossible to get signed... especially if you want to maintain some integrity of character and soul in your music. Many musicians are signed to major labels and still have my respect... but for the most part, I feel most good music is done on a smaller and more local scale. The hall shows as opposed to the stadium sell out events. I told him about some bands that I am friends with, The Brewkowskis, Pind and Por Nada. Edmonton bands. He told me about some good Saskatchewan bands worth looking into (which I have yet to do regrettably enough) 7th Eye and Jack’s Union.
Lee was a rugby player, stocky and stout but appearing to be in decent shape. He had a goatee and long hair and a couple days of stubble. He was wearing a striped work shirt with his name tag on it and looked like he did literally step out of the garage, get into his Saturn with his pretty girl air-freshner hanging from the rearview mirror, pick me up and spark a joint.
We made pretty good time to Maidstone and Lee took the liberty of driving through town to drop me off on the other side which was also near a truck stop. Truck stops apparently are a good place for hitchhikers to find that golden long haul hook up. It was not until later that I learned that insurance companies have put their foot neatly onto that. It is a major liability for a trucker to pick up a hitchhiker and most trucking companies will fire a trucker if they find out about a hitchhiker being in their truck. It sounds a little bit fishy to me, but nevertheless, that is the way it is.
Both rides have so far went out of their way to put me into a better position. This was very nice to see. I was feeling good about my trek so far even though I have only been going for a few hours. Lee dropped me off and I mentioned that I was keeping a journal of my trip. Lee laughed and said “If you ever make this into a movie, I get to play me... the stoned driver.” Hahaha... he nailed his character and knows exactly how I saw things. All in all Lee was a good dude and I was glad that our paths had crossed. I wished him all the best and he to me and I got out of the car. Right as Lee was about to take off I remembered that my friend had given me a few CD’s to give out to people along the way. I had 5 Pind ‘End of Summer’ CD’s in my backpack. I knocked on Lee’s door and he stopped... I gave him a cd to which Lee replied, “F__king Rights...” he then put up two fingers, said “Peace,” and drove off.
So, once again, I was alone on an unfamiliar road. It had to be twenty five degrees (celsius) outside and when the sun escaped its cloud cover the sweat beaded on my face. I did not like standing around waiting for a ride so I started walking. Every time I heard a car I would turn around, flash my “Montreal” sign and attempt to make some sort of friendly eye contact. Most people sped by without giving a second glance... some pretending not to have even seen me. Perhaps to ease a guilty conscience. Many walk past homeless people as if they were invisible, this felt much the same as that. After about an hour or so, this backpack started to feel very heavy and I was feeling pretty tired. I must have walked a mile or two out of Maidstone by now. Mostly walking backwards. I got sick and tired of turning around every time I heard a car, so I got into the habit of walking backwards. Most hitchhikers that I see walk backwards, likely for the same reason.
After around an hour of walking backwards an silver chevy malibu picked me up with a 40 something year old lady behind the wheel. We did our introductions and were off. Colleen, a mother of 3 with a B.A a B.Ed working towards an M.Ed, was on her way to Saskatoon Saskatchewan. We didn’t talk too much, which was a good thing because I was still really stoned and was not used to functioning this way. Back in my pothead days I could tell a story, juggle, cook a 4 course meal while riding a unicyle stoned… If I wanted to... I didn’t ever seem to find the motivation though. I wonder why. These days though, not smoking often at all, when I do smoke I get hit hard by the stuff.
It seems to me that Colleen just wanted to listen to music. We listened to Lyle Lovett, my first ever Lyle Lovett experience, and I thought that he was great. We also listened to a really funny folk singer by the name of Nathan Caswell and some old Steve Earle. Colleen lip sinked the words trying not to be to obvious about it. I thought it was really cute. If I were not in the car, chances are that she would be belting out the lyrics as loud as she could. I would have been alright with that as well with me in the car... but... we all have our inhibitions and I am no different there.
We did talk a little bit. It seems that people like to talk to hitch hikers about hitch hiking... fancy that. Colleen has picked up many hitch hikers in her days and she has a criteria for doing so. She will not pick up hitch hikers if her kids are in the car. Although she broke that rule once by picking up a Native couple in the pouring rain. If the person looks young, looks harmless, is hitch hiking at night or in the cold or is Native, Colleen will pick them up. She gave a disclaimer about the Native criteria because she feels that they are less likely to get picked up due to obvious (racist) stereotypes that exist in Canada. I didn’t ask which category I fell into, but as a 24 year old white male hitchhiking during the daylight hours in the summer sun I was pretty sure she thought I looked harmless. I am.
On our way to Saskatoon we stopped at the North Battleford Tim Horton’s as Colleen wanted to get a chicken Salad Sandwich. I chugged a good amount of water and refilled my water bottle in the washroom at the Tim Horton’s. When Colleen came out she told me that she can’t drive after eating one of those. Then she started to drive. It seemed a bit odd to me. Did she eat one or did she change her mind in the lineup? Was I in some sort of trouble? I did not ask so I guess now I will never know.
I made it to Saskatoon around 9:00 pm that night. Colleen dropped me off right at the beginning of town as she was heading off of the “through route”. I took a few minutes to write in my log book and eat a snack and then I decided that I was going to walk through the city and see If I could make it to the other end before I set up camp.
Being in an unfamiliar city is fairly intense. One could get engulfed by such a large mass of concrete, automobiles, shiny lights all other things that make a modern city a modern city. I wanted to make it through the city, and had no real idea how to do so other than by walking along the side of the freeway. At times there was sidewalks, but at other times, the road was its own entity with barriers on both sides and no place for pedestrians. So I walked in the grass, over hills and on bike paths keeping “Circle Drive” in my sights at all times. Circle drive was a through road and would link up with the highway that leads to the Atlantic Ocean... eventually. A man with a large backpack who looks obviously like some sort of wandering vagrant has many allies, but for the most part, they stay clear of you but do send their best wishes. I was honked at and waved at many times on my way through Saskatoon. It lifted my spirits.
Bam! I was hit with a dilemma, a choice, something that was going to determine the course for the rest of my life. No matter how small the choice or the dilemma, it may be the difference between life or death, riches or poverty a quick hitch across the country or a marathon of epic proportions.
I hit a junction between Circle Drive and Idlewyld. Both roads were through roads, both would get me to where I am going... so which one do I choose. Jackhammers inside my brain. Every time I have to make a choice I feel a little bit insane. I decided to follow Circle Drive as that was the road that Colleen had mentioned would take me through. After the choice was made, my demons (said as if I keep them like pets) decided to rip me up and down and sideways for a while. Much like every choice I ever make... doubt, fear, anxiety and uncertainty. What if I made the wrong choice? What if... What if... What if I stopped worrying about what if’s and continued on my mission which is currently to hitch hike accross the country. Ha! Easier typed in hindsight than lived in the moment. My mind was eased at some point, but I had a heck of a mental war for a time.
I walked for what seemed to be about three hours or so and to what appeared to be the outskirts of the city. I was tempted by a few overpasses that had a nice flat loft at the top which looked pretty cozy for sleeping but I kept telling myself that there would be another good overpass at a better bed time closer to the edge of the city. I found that overpass at the city edge with a wonderful sleep area and even a cubby hole for my things. I took out a can of beans from my pack, which my gramma had given to me before I left, and invested ten minutes of time with my pocket knife getting that can open. It was a struggle but I got it open and man oh man, did it ever hit the spot! Cold beans out of a can under a Saskatoon freeway, I reflected on the day and where I was and what I was doing and felt a warm euphoria. I was free. I laughed a bit about sleeping under a bridge but at the same time scolded myself. I was enjoying the “novelty” of a vagrant lifestyle and the freedom that I felt. When I return home, I have a bed to sleep in, friends and family that care for me, and a clean enough record which could land me a job that would ensure some sort of comforts in life. There are some that don’t choose to be a vagrant, but are. They must fend for themselves and sleep under bridges or wherever the shelter seems good. I had reached some sort of understanding with myself. The freedom is nice, being out of the ordinary routine is nice... but anything that is not a routine can become a routine and after a routine is established it is much easier to see the negative side of things. I will try my best to enjoy myself while at the same time respecting what it is I am doing while at the same time respecting those who do what I am doing as a lifestyle.
I made a choice before I left to not hitch inside the city limits. I figure that hitch hiking within city limits is a good way to end up in jail and once you are in jail you will then be on the radar and have a chance to go back again. I was told a story recently about a hitch hiker who tried to get a ride in the city and got picked up by police officers and jail time 3 days in a row. Talk about being swallowed by a city.
An observation that I noticed quite early in my hitchhiking is that the pretty girls seem to always smile, wave and / or honk, but never seem to stop.
As I went to bed that night, watching the lightning on the horizon and watching the cars, buses and people pass, I felt really good. The overpass had a large pillar which made it tough for anyone to see me up in the shadows so I didn’t worry very much when I saw police cruisers pass by. Although I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they did see me. They did not, so... much like Colleen’s chicken salad sandwich, I guess I will never know.