On the Road 2011 blog# 10

I have had a strange relationship and relatively speaking, a long relationship with Brandon, Manitoba. A relationship that exists only in my mind and in spite of the fact that I don't really know her at all. In fact I have never really entered Brandon. I only know what exists along the highway, at the very fringes of the city. She is but temporary friend, I know nothing about her inner workings,who lives within her, how they earn their money, or what makes her happy. I only have touched the outer most portions of her skin, and yet I say we have a relationship. One day I may get to know her better.

I first became aware of Brandon in 1967, the years of Montreal's World Fair. I was away at a children's camp in Northern Quebec, developing my duel crafts of looking after other people's children and wilderness canoeing. My parents opened up their house to tourist visiting Montreal. Some of those good folks were from Brandon. I never met any of them, but I became aware that summer that such a town, and perhaps even more importantly that another country existed outside of Quebec.

Brandon has this motel that I have stayed in at least 3 times. What is remarkable about this motel is that each unit is a separate little cabin built in an arch shape....exactly like the first house that I built. Every time I see that motel I think of that first house and my life back then. I could never have dreamed of how things have turned out.

I have arrived in Brandon tired and somewhat discouraged and in spite of the fact that it was only 5:30 in the afternoon and therefore there was lots of hitchhiking light to continue, I have stopped for the day. I have slept by the side of the road arriving there at 2:00 in the morning after an excilerating three car ride from Lake Louise. And I have been standing on the side of the road just about dusk and been picked up by a man going to Calgary, wanting company throughout the night. As I said...Brandon and me go a way back.

Brandon may have one of the most complicated sets of traffic lights in the nation. That is because at the cross roads there is not only the Trans-Canada to deal with, there are also the service roads that run on either side of the highway. They all need access to the highway and to downtown. To make things even more complicated, there are 3-4 truckstops that the big transport trailers use for their breaks and for getting gas. And of course on a Saturday afternoon there were lots of local shoppers out for the day, doing what ever needed to be done after a full week's work. It can make for a type of crazy, hectic traffic patterns that require the hitchhiker to be alert. One needs to stay focused, so that eye contact can be made in those cars that are heading west. It can be tiring and it is easy to miss cues.

I had been there, for what on this trip was turning out to be, a long time. At least 20 minutes. I saw a transport truck swing out on to the highway, gave him a quick glance, saw that he was not looking at me and went on the next vehicle. I was surprised when he slowed down and honked his horn. I wasted no time grabbing my pack from the shoulder of the road and swinging it on to my back. Because of some pot holes he had had to park a bit up the highway but I didn't mind the brief jog.

In the past I have had some difficulty in getting both me and my pack up into the truck. Trucks are surprising high off the ground, and they are rather small inside. There is not a lot of room to manouver once one is halfway in. The trucker invariably says "oh just throw it in the back". Quite frankly by the time I have hauled both the pack and me into the cab, I lack the strength to throw my hat into the back, never mind the pack. But I was much smoother this time. Part of the secret was that my pack was lighter than ever before because of the smaller tent and of course because I had mailed so much stuff out to BC. But as well I had spent some time thinking about how to do it. It was not that I felt the need to impress truck drivers, I just didn't want them to think I was a complete uncoordinated idiot. I still groaned when he said " just throw your pack in the back". At least this time I was not so out of breath that I couldn't thank him for stopping.

Jesse's first words to me after directing what to do with my stuff was to say " I honked at you when I pulled into the card lock ( where they get their fuel) you should have been paying attention" . I decided not to bother telling him that I had been paying attention, there were just too many cars and trucks to keep track of them all. Hell it was his truck and if he felt the need to give me a lecture, I could stand it, it seemed a small price to pay for a ride. Jesse had stopped because he had seen my sign for Calgary and wanted some company. He was heading for Calgary although he was not sure if he would make it that day. But if he was going to Calgary so was I. Winnipeg to Calgary in one day was quite respectable.
I was happy.