I am at the Painted Turtle Hostel in Nanaimo - Monday night - August 20.
Leaving my son and family is aways so hard. I am not too sure why this is so. Perhaps it is in part leaving the island (Vancouver Is) and knowing that I am heading back to my other life; perhap it is a bit of anxiety about the upcoming trip, perhaps it is quite simply that I know I won't see them for another 5 months and that is just too long. I enjoy it out here and I am sad to leave.
My son and I enjoy a weird and unique relationship..... but there is never enough time for us to do all that we perhaps would like to do.
However in the past week we have gone swimming in the river and in a lake and have gone for two great and long hike. I will post pictures when I can figure out how to do it from the tablet.
One of the things that I normally do when at the hostel is go out for a veggie burger abd a beer. The restaurant was closed and so I had to make do with a submarine sandwich. Not the same at all. I went to the dock area and watched folks fish and crab fiing. It is rather interesting.
I am siting in what the hostel calls the "great room" with 5-6 other people all of whom are using the computer.
I am hungry
later.....
Monday, August 20, 2012
On the Road Again 2012 intermission
Dear gentle reader
Tomorrow I start my eastward journey. It may take a few days for me to get a place where wifi is available....so I may be off line for awhile. I would really like to do the blog if not in real time - then at least close to it. So hopefully I will be able to keep up to date.
With the help of my son I did manage to retrieve from my old and broken tablet my initial notes done on the train.
I will try to edit those notes and post thems as soon as possible.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
On the Road Again 2012 # 22
I was wrong. A vehicle did stop for me. My driver was headed for the outskirts of Vancouver. The man driving and his father were members of a First Nations community who, I think, lived in Vancouver. It was not a very long drive, but it was great to have an intelligent conversation about social issues with no sense of one-up-manship or dominance. They were interested in my stories but were able to connect them to their own stories. For example when I talked about looking forward to seeing my son and his family, they talked about how important their family were to them as well. I didn't spend any more than an hour in the vehicle but it was enough to restore my faith in humanity. They picked me up to help, not too prove something to a stranger.
I do not know Vancouver very well and did not have a clue where they were going to let me off. But I recognized one of the signs, got them to let me out and was able to find a bus stop that got me to a Skytrain station.
I took the train to Main Street where I knew there were two hostels. They are a little bit scuzzy - but for one night they would do fine. Both were full. So I had to walk for 45 minutes up Hastings Street to Granville and then along Granville until the International Hostel. I got the last available bed.
The walk up Hasting Street was physically tiring, but it was emotionally draining. I think it is the most depressing street I had ever walked along. The addicts, the homeless, and those who have worked in the sex trade for far too long are all jumbled together in one street. While there are tiny rays of hope as shown by the emergence of community gardens or the signs of protest over the destruction of cheap housing that is being replaced by condos for yuppies - so many of the lives that live on Hasting Street are filled with danger, a sense of hopelessness and for me at least, a sense that so many of the people walk right by them and don't even see them.
There is a curious jaxa-postioning of the homeless and the young people going to the clubs along Grandville Street. There are old men asking for change in old paper coffee cups and young girls striding along in mini skirts while others are getting out long white stretch limousines built with the front of a Humvee. As I was up the street I accidentally kicked over one man's cup. I of course dropped my pack and helped him pick all of the change up. While the cup was two thirds full when we were all done - it was mostly filled with pennies. An evening's work and I doubt if there was more than 50 cents. I wondered if the people who dropped him their few pennies smiled and felt good about themselves when they dropped the money into the cup. I suspect they did.
I found the hostel, threw my stuff on the assigned bed, put on my sandals and went out for a quick bite to eat. I sat on a bench eat a pita and watched the action happening on the street. The whole scene that was happening in front of my eyes felt so disconnected from the past nine days. If anyone of the people had stopped to talk to me, I don't know what I would have said. I had nothing in common with them.I didn't belong here. As I was walking up the street towards the hostel I felt far more comfortable with the homeless. I did not want to have to spend the night on the streets with them, but if I had had to, it would have been fine. I have done it before. But to spend the night with these pretty people all dressed up and ready to drink and to party would have been a bit too much for this weary traveller.
I went to bed in the hostel and quickly feel asleep. I was up early the next morning and got the bus to Horseshoe Bay. The little village is an attractive place to spend an hour or two and it gave me time to relax and slow down. On the other side my son and grandson waited for me to drive me home.
It was good to be back on the West Coast with my family. It had been quite an adventure. I had made it to Yellowknife, had crossed the Mackenzie River and I had seen wild bison along the side of the road. I had travelled up to where the sun shines 23 hours a day and made it back again. I had had some great rides from some very interesting people. I had learned a lot about theirs and other people's lives.
I was tired. Physically I was well but the nine days had been hard both on my body and on my mind. I was ready for some consistency. I was done travelling for a while. It was time to put up my feet and relax as befits a senior citizen.
I do not know Vancouver very well and did not have a clue where they were going to let me off. But I recognized one of the signs, got them to let me out and was able to find a bus stop that got me to a Skytrain station.
I took the train to Main Street where I knew there were two hostels. They are a little bit scuzzy - but for one night they would do fine. Both were full. So I had to walk for 45 minutes up Hastings Street to Granville and then along Granville until the International Hostel. I got the last available bed.
The walk up Hasting Street was physically tiring, but it was emotionally draining. I think it is the most depressing street I had ever walked along. The addicts, the homeless, and those who have worked in the sex trade for far too long are all jumbled together in one street. While there are tiny rays of hope as shown by the emergence of community gardens or the signs of protest over the destruction of cheap housing that is being replaced by condos for yuppies - so many of the lives that live on Hasting Street are filled with danger, a sense of hopelessness and for me at least, a sense that so many of the people walk right by them and don't even see them.
There is a curious jaxa-postioning of the homeless and the young people going to the clubs along Grandville Street. There are old men asking for change in old paper coffee cups and young girls striding along in mini skirts while others are getting out long white stretch limousines built with the front of a Humvee. As I was up the street I accidentally kicked over one man's cup. I of course dropped my pack and helped him pick all of the change up. While the cup was two thirds full when we were all done - it was mostly filled with pennies. An evening's work and I doubt if there was more than 50 cents. I wondered if the people who dropped him their few pennies smiled and felt good about themselves when they dropped the money into the cup. I suspect they did.
I found the hostel, threw my stuff on the assigned bed, put on my sandals and went out for a quick bite to eat. I sat on a bench eat a pita and watched the action happening on the street. The whole scene that was happening in front of my eyes felt so disconnected from the past nine days. If anyone of the people had stopped to talk to me, I don't know what I would have said. I had nothing in common with them.I didn't belong here. As I was walking up the street towards the hostel I felt far more comfortable with the homeless. I did not want to have to spend the night on the streets with them, but if I had had to, it would have been fine. I have done it before. But to spend the night with these pretty people all dressed up and ready to drink and to party would have been a bit too much for this weary traveller.
I went to bed in the hostel and quickly feel asleep. I was up early the next morning and got the bus to Horseshoe Bay. The little village is an attractive place to spend an hour or two and it gave me time to relax and slow down. On the other side my son and grandson waited for me to drive me home.
It was good to be back on the West Coast with my family. It had been quite an adventure. I had made it to Yellowknife, had crossed the Mackenzie River and I had seen wild bison along the side of the road. I had travelled up to where the sun shines 23 hours a day and made it back again. I had had some great rides from some very interesting people. I had learned a lot about theirs and other people's lives.
I was tired. Physically I was well but the nine days had been hard both on my body and on my mind. I was ready for some consistency. I was done travelling for a while. It was time to put up my feet and relax as befits a senior citizen.
On the Road Again 2012 #21
I had been let off across from a gas station/grocery store. There was a lot of traffic in and out of that parking lot and of course every time I saw a car leave I got hopeful. But in hindsight it was pretty obvious that most of the customers were local people and they were probably not going far. It was still early in the day so I was not worried. If my memory was correct, the last ferry to Vancouver Island was sometime around 9:00. That meant that I still had a chance of getting to Nanaimo tonight. I would need some luck to make the ferry but I thought it was possible. Almost as soon as I thought about that possibility a black, somewhat sporty car stopped.
The first words I heard were "I am going to Chilliwack, the car will be smoky and the music loud". As I got into the car Wade repeated his statesmen to make sure I heard him. I assured him that I had. Wade was the last of my three males who had what could charitably be at best described as having bizarre views of women. It was to be a long and complicated journey full of little problems and inconsistencies in his story. In fact it was difficult to piece together his story into a coherent whole . Wade who was now 35 had been/was a drug addict. He had,in the past made his living from selling drugs. He said that he had lots of money and possessions left over from those days including a large house in the country, a really nice truck, and some other stuff. It was not clear why he had left the city and moved to the country or where all of his money went. Later on he kept on saying how broke he was.
He told me that he was no longer using drugs but later said that he had just gotten a medical license to grow marijuana. His doctor did not know how to do a prescription and therefore, according to him, allowed him to grow 88 plants at a time. Because he had created an indoor growing operation, that meant that he could grow that many plants three times a year. While Wade denied selling anything to anyone he was producing far more product than anyone could normally consume.
He told me that he had to make a brief stop in Kamloops - I thought we were just picking up a prescription....but no. He had to go to the methadone clinic for his dose. He was angry that he had to drive so far to get help. He thought he should be given his total doses for a week or two. I can appreciate the inconvenience of having to drive so far every couple of days but I would not have trusted him with that much methadone.The process took about an hour. I didn't mind chatting to the folks in the clinic, but I would have preferred to be on the road getting closer to Vancouver and the ferry. Then we had to go a place that provides hydroponic equipment. In the past twenty or so years there has been a dramatic increase in the number of such stores. While everyone pretends that a lot of people are growing lots of hydroponic veggies, many people realize that these store only exist because of all the pot growers.
Wade told me that he was going to Chilliwack to attend a birthday party for one of his children. According to Wade he had had 10 kids. He was in contact with six of them. The other four had moved out of the province with their mothers. He was determined to get there for the party at whatever the cost. He called his son's home a few times to remind him that he was coming, and he certainly drove faster than some cars on the road.
Wade at present had a girlfriend and said that he was planning on marrying her within the year. He gave her the credit for him cleaning up his drug habits and insisting that he get some medical assistance for his addictions. I would have loved to have talked to her about how she reconciled her belief that he both needed to get out of dealing drugs and using them - with the 88 plants in the basement growing under hydroponic grow lights.
Somewhere near Merrick the temperature gauge started to rise. Wade informed me that he had had problems with the water pump and had fixed it with some sort of off-the shelf product from Canadian Tire. We stopped at Merrick to put some water in the radiator. When we opened the hood it was clear that the repair job had started to leak. Wade decided that we needed to go Canadian Tire to both look for some sort of product that would seal the leak and for Wade to look for a parts for the water pump. We ended up talking to the Canadian Tire mechanics who were about finished for the day. Their remedy was clear - either he should leave the car there and they would fix it on Monday or he could carry as many jugs of water as possible and drive carefully. Wade kept on telling the mechanics (who only wanted to go home on time) that he had no money and could not afford to have the vehicle fixed and how his little boy really needed to see him for his birthday. Eventually after what felt like a 100 questions about how he could fix it, the guys filled up eight to nine old jugs and we loaded them into the trunk.
If I had been smart I would have perhaps stayed on the highway at Kamloops as opposed to stopping at the clinic but instead I felt as if I had wasted two hours. As we got back on the highway I tried to convince Wade that perhaps if he went slower, the car would not over heat. Wade's preferred solution was to drive fast and then with me acting as time keeper, stop every 20 minutes to check the water level. Of course,in spite of the mechanic's comments, Wade was convinced that the engine had to cool down before one could add water to the overflow reservoir. It felt as if it took us a long time to cover the remaining miles. Things were even slower when we came to a solid line of vehicles stopped on the highway. As we found out later transport truck had caught fire and delayed traffic for some time.
Wade pulled over in front of another car to let his car cool down. The other car seemed to be having some difficulties as there was a pool of water underneath the engine. However the driver informed us that the problem had been fixed and he was just waiting for the traffic to start up again. He also told us that he was going to Duncan but with this traffic he knew he was going to miss the last ferry. For a moment there I got excited about getting a drive all the way to Duncan, but the guy was going to find a motel and clearly did not want to get saddled with me.
Throughout the trip Wade had been bragging about how good his present girlfriend was to him. His attitude towards her however was condescending and chauvinistic. However after our stop at the Canadian Tire he started to call both his old girlfriend (mother of his son) and his new girlfriend. He was calling the former to tell her that he would be late but that he would get there some time. I think he wanted her to postpone the party until he got there. He also wanted her to call up all of the auto parts suppliers in the area and find out if they had this part or that part, how much it would cost and how late were they open. He also called up his present girlfriend with the same questions. As he referred to them using the same terms of endearments, I had some difficulties figuring out who he was talking to. As he clearly planned on spending the night at his former girlfriend's house - I clearly did not understand the relationship he had with either girl. No matter who he was talking to, he was demanding and almost abusive; yelling at them when they didn't get the right information, demanding that they call back and get it right this time. He kept on saying that he could not do it as he was losing the signal or it would cost too much. It seemed to me that he had plenty of time to make the calls when we were stopped.
We finally got to Chilliwack. It was close to 8:30. Wade let me out about a ten minute walk from the highway. As much as I appreciated the ride, I was quite tired of his attitude, his whinnying to the mechanics and his girlfriend(s), his boastfulness, his manipulations and his general sense that someone owed him a living. But he could be a nice guy. He certainly helped me out and he would have helped the other stranded motorist. As I said they were inconsistencies about him that were puzzling.
As soon as got on the entrance ramp I started to look for a place to sleep. I knew I was not going to get a ride tonight on this busy stretch of highway.
The first words I heard were "I am going to Chilliwack, the car will be smoky and the music loud". As I got into the car Wade repeated his statesmen to make sure I heard him. I assured him that I had. Wade was the last of my three males who had what could charitably be at best described as having bizarre views of women. It was to be a long and complicated journey full of little problems and inconsistencies in his story. In fact it was difficult to piece together his story into a coherent whole . Wade who was now 35 had been/was a drug addict. He had,in the past made his living from selling drugs. He said that he had lots of money and possessions left over from those days including a large house in the country, a really nice truck, and some other stuff. It was not clear why he had left the city and moved to the country or where all of his money went. Later on he kept on saying how broke he was.
He told me that he was no longer using drugs but later said that he had just gotten a medical license to grow marijuana. His doctor did not know how to do a prescription and therefore, according to him, allowed him to grow 88 plants at a time. Because he had created an indoor growing operation, that meant that he could grow that many plants three times a year. While Wade denied selling anything to anyone he was producing far more product than anyone could normally consume.
He told me that he had to make a brief stop in Kamloops - I thought we were just picking up a prescription....but no. He had to go to the methadone clinic for his dose. He was angry that he had to drive so far to get help. He thought he should be given his total doses for a week or two. I can appreciate the inconvenience of having to drive so far every couple of days but I would not have trusted him with that much methadone.The process took about an hour. I didn't mind chatting to the folks in the clinic, but I would have preferred to be on the road getting closer to Vancouver and the ferry. Then we had to go a place that provides hydroponic equipment. In the past twenty or so years there has been a dramatic increase in the number of such stores. While everyone pretends that a lot of people are growing lots of hydroponic veggies, many people realize that these store only exist because of all the pot growers.
Wade told me that he was going to Chilliwack to attend a birthday party for one of his children. According to Wade he had had 10 kids. He was in contact with six of them. The other four had moved out of the province with their mothers. He was determined to get there for the party at whatever the cost. He called his son's home a few times to remind him that he was coming, and he certainly drove faster than some cars on the road.
Wade at present had a girlfriend and said that he was planning on marrying her within the year. He gave her the credit for him cleaning up his drug habits and insisting that he get some medical assistance for his addictions. I would have loved to have talked to her about how she reconciled her belief that he both needed to get out of dealing drugs and using them - with the 88 plants in the basement growing under hydroponic grow lights.
Somewhere near Merrick the temperature gauge started to rise. Wade informed me that he had had problems with the water pump and had fixed it with some sort of off-the shelf product from Canadian Tire. We stopped at Merrick to put some water in the radiator. When we opened the hood it was clear that the repair job had started to leak. Wade decided that we needed to go Canadian Tire to both look for some sort of product that would seal the leak and for Wade to look for a parts for the water pump. We ended up talking to the Canadian Tire mechanics who were about finished for the day. Their remedy was clear - either he should leave the car there and they would fix it on Monday or he could carry as many jugs of water as possible and drive carefully. Wade kept on telling the mechanics (who only wanted to go home on time) that he had no money and could not afford to have the vehicle fixed and how his little boy really needed to see him for his birthday. Eventually after what felt like a 100 questions about how he could fix it, the guys filled up eight to nine old jugs and we loaded them into the trunk.
If I had been smart I would have perhaps stayed on the highway at Kamloops as opposed to stopping at the clinic but instead I felt as if I had wasted two hours. As we got back on the highway I tried to convince Wade that perhaps if he went slower, the car would not over heat. Wade's preferred solution was to drive fast and then with me acting as time keeper, stop every 20 minutes to check the water level. Of course,in spite of the mechanic's comments, Wade was convinced that the engine had to cool down before one could add water to the overflow reservoir. It felt as if it took us a long time to cover the remaining miles. Things were even slower when we came to a solid line of vehicles stopped on the highway. As we found out later transport truck had caught fire and delayed traffic for some time.
Wade pulled over in front of another car to let his car cool down. The other car seemed to be having some difficulties as there was a pool of water underneath the engine. However the driver informed us that the problem had been fixed and he was just waiting for the traffic to start up again. He also told us that he was going to Duncan but with this traffic he knew he was going to miss the last ferry. For a moment there I got excited about getting a drive all the way to Duncan, but the guy was going to find a motel and clearly did not want to get saddled with me.
Throughout the trip Wade had been bragging about how good his present girlfriend was to him. His attitude towards her however was condescending and chauvinistic. However after our stop at the Canadian Tire he started to call both his old girlfriend (mother of his son) and his new girlfriend. He was calling the former to tell her that he would be late but that he would get there some time. I think he wanted her to postpone the party until he got there. He also wanted her to call up all of the auto parts suppliers in the area and find out if they had this part or that part, how much it would cost and how late were they open. He also called up his present girlfriend with the same questions. As he referred to them using the same terms of endearments, I had some difficulties figuring out who he was talking to. As he clearly planned on spending the night at his former girlfriend's house - I clearly did not understand the relationship he had with either girl. No matter who he was talking to, he was demanding and almost abusive; yelling at them when they didn't get the right information, demanding that they call back and get it right this time. He kept on saying that he could not do it as he was losing the signal or it would cost too much. It seemed to me that he had plenty of time to make the calls when we were stopped.
We finally got to Chilliwack. It was close to 8:30. Wade let me out about a ten minute walk from the highway. As much as I appreciated the ride, I was quite tired of his attitude, his whinnying to the mechanics and his girlfriend(s), his boastfulness, his manipulations and his general sense that someone owed him a living. But he could be a nice guy. He certainly helped me out and he would have helped the other stranded motorist. As I said they were inconsistencies about him that were puzzling.
As soon as got on the entrance ramp I started to look for a place to sleep. I knew I was not going to get a ride tonight on this busy stretch of highway.
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