It was perhaps unfair in my previous notes to suggest that
Regina was a city that had not always been good to me. While it was the first
city at which I was forced to sleep outside as I could not get a ride, (and I
think the place that I slept outside the 2nd time too) and it was
the first place that I was ever told to get out of a car because the driver did
not agree with me, good things have happened there too. Last year in Regina one
of my drivers introduced me to some of his refugee friends that he was
supporting, it was also the place where I started my tour of southern Saskatchewan’s
small town courtesy of a Canada Post mailman, and it was also the place where I
got my first really long distance ride in a truck. So Regina is a fine city and
this year was no exception.
I was hungry so as soon as I got to the Husky station I used
their bathroom facilities and then grabbed an egg salad sandwich. I wolfed it
down in record time and then headed to the exit area where most of the trucks
would need to pass by on the way either east or west. In other years this
particular Husky station had had a sign up saying “no hitchhikers allowed”. But
I didn’t see any such sign this year and I would have ignored it anyhow. While
I think it is private property and they probably have the right to say who
stands on their grass, I could not imagine any of the employees caring enough
to do anything about it.
At the exit there was a bit of grass, some signs and lots of
bright lighting. There was also another hitchhiker. He was wearing all black,
had a medium sized airport type suitcase with wheels and he looked tired. He
looked like he had been there all day.
As I walked towards him, I also looked for places to lay down for a bit.
He was here first and so I knew I might as well get some sleep. There was no
ride for me tonight. However as I got closer I noticed his sign. He was going
to Calgary. As he was going west and I
was going east, we were not in competition for the same ride and therefore
could share the same small corner.
My travelling friend was a French Canadian/ or perhaps an
Acadian from New Brunswick. He had made it from the Maritimes in just under
four and half days; most of it in truckers. He was friendly sort and in between
standing up and showing our signs to likely cars and trucks we chatted. He was
a roofer who was heading to Calgary. He said that he had a friend who had
promised him a job. I was about to tell him about my previous roofer driver and
his move from Calgary to Regina because of work. But then my fellow traveller told
me that the roofing jobs that were being done in Regina were being so poorly
done that he could not work here. He told me that they were not putting down
black roofing paper before the shingles were applied and that only two nails
were being used to hold each shingle. I had to admire his professional
standards and ethics. He also talked about the difficulties in getting his work
experiences being recognized. Not every province would accept his time worked
in the Maritimes or Quebec. I didn’t quite understand why this was so or why it
was important. Our conversations were
somewhat disjointed as we had to pause for traffic going by. While we were both reasonably sure that most
of the vehicles, especially the cars were not going to offer rides, we still
needed to pay attention to them. On A couple of time we watched each other’s
bags as we made trips to the bathroom or he to the store for food. He was a
generous young man who offered on more than one occasion to buy me something to
eat or drink. Why do people keep on thinking that I am broke?
It was now after 11:00. In spite of the fact that the lighting
in the area was very bright and there were a lot of vehicles leaving, it felt
as if the odds of us getting a drive were somewhat marginal. We discussed
laying down and getting a few hours sleep. It was tiring just being there. I would sit down between vehicles to rest but
jumping up every five or so minutes took almost more energy than I saved by
sitting down. I really needed to lay
down and rest my weary body for awhile. But then an older, smaller man walked
up to us and asked where we were going.
I said “he is going west and I am going east”.
He said “I am going east”
I said “I would love a ride”
He said “lets go”
And that is how simple it is. Someone freely offers a ride
and I just as freely accept. By those few words a contract is made between two
people. George was off to Brandon
tonight. That meant that at some point in the wee hours of the morning I would
get to where I had planned to get when I left Strathmore that morning.
Regina ain’t so bad after all !!!
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