The motel in Hope was
fine - small and certainly not the most luxurious one on the strip - but it was
what I needed. I ate at a small restaurant, trying to not wolf down the veggie
burger and fries. I am generally not hungry when I am travelling. The
occasional granola bar is generally eaten because I am bored as opposed to being
actually hungry. But once I have stopped for the day - I am ravenous. I debated
having a second beer but I decided that was a bit excessive - I also wondered
if it would go to my head. It would not do to fall asleep on the short walk
home to my bed.
I was up early the next morning. I made the short walk to
the hitchhiking spot just before the highway. It was Saturday and I was hoping
for someone who was going to Vancouver either for an event or perhaps shopping.
What I got was short ride to Chilliwack and then another ride to Mission. After
standing at the entrance ramp for some time I noticed a city bus going by. I
like city buses and I assumed that this one would get me to somewhere that
would be useful. In fact the driver said that there would be three transfers
but that I could get to a Sky Train station. What he didn't tell me was that it
would take hours to do so and that there would be three separate bus fares. In
hindsight I think I would have been better off standing on the entrance ramp. I
am sure that within an hour I could have got a ride into downtown Vancouver and
saved myself three bus fares. Next time I will do it differently.
I did eventually get to Vancouver; I did catch the bus to
Horseshoe Bay, and in Nanaimo caught the Greyhound bus to Duncan. In Duncan my
daughter in-law kindly came and got me. It was not that I could not have walked
the kilometre or so home - but I was tired and yes on some days I feel older
than I thought I would.
It took me just over two and half days to get from Winnipeg
to Duncan. It was a great run. I meet some interesting people - all of whom had interesting tales to tell. I
hope, as always, that I in return for the drive and the company, was able to
entertain them with my conversation and my stories. I hope that they felt that
it had been a mutually beneficial relationship. These relationships, some very
short but a number of them lasting six or seven hours - are why I hitch. I love
that excitement of getting into a stranger's car and heading off down the
highway. Drivers pick me up for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes they are bored;
sometimes they are curious about who this person is on the side of the road;
sometimes they are paying back the rides they have gotten when they hitchhiked;
sometimes they are being charitable; sometimes they have no clear reason - it
has been an impulsive stop that I think sometimes they almost regret as I get
into the car. But for whatever reason, they do stop - and I am grateful to them
all.
Already I am thinking about doing it again - not because I
need to go anywhere but because hitchhiking is fun and because hitchhiking
defines at least in part, who I am.