On the Road Again 2017 #9

My driver the previous night had suggested that the Trans-Canada was about a mile from downtown Portage. Early Sunday morning, as I trudged down the near empty streets, it certainly seemed a lot further than that. Perhaps one day I will drive across the country and measure exactly how accurate the estimates of some of my drivers are. Because they are in a vehicle, I think they always underestimate distances.

 There were not a lot of cars on the highway - a fair number of trucks but not many cars. All of the vehicles had had miles to build up their speed and it did not look as if any wanted to stop. Still I put on my optimistic, hopefully benign-looking face and settle down into what I assumed would be a long wait. However I was only there for about 10 minutes when a pick-up truck stopped and the driver invited me in.  My new driver was a farmer heading up the Yellowhead highway. That meant that I would be getting out at the same spot as Cam, my previous driver, had offered to drive me to the night previously. All things considered, I am glad that I had decided to get a good night's sleep. I had not lost any time by staying in a motel, I had had chance to eat something but most importantly, I had not had to spend the night fighting off the ever-hungry Manitoba mosquito.

I have lost count of the number of times I have stood at certain specific corners. Certainly the intersection of the Trans-Canada and the Yellowhead highway is a very familiar spot. I like it. There are stop lights that slow some of the traffic down, there is, across the road, a gas station where I could get water if I needed to and the shoulders are wide. What more could I ask for? I don't think I was there for anymore than 20-30 minutes when a transport truck slowed and then stopped for me. I was surprised in that large trucks seldom stop once the driver has got through a number of gears - it is just too much work for them. It may have been only the third or fourth time that a truck has stopped for me on the open highway.

Francois  had just started driving in Winnipeg and was therefore quite sure that we would be in Calgary by nightfall. In fact originally he thought we would be there by 5:30 or 6:00. Immediately I started to think about the possibility that I could get as far as Canmore or perhaps even Golden by nightfall - especially as I would go through two time zones and thereby gain two hours. My driver was from Quebec and had done much of his driving within that province. When we were talking about why he picked me up - he said it was because he wanted to practice his English. His pronunciation of most words was very good, sometimes almost without an accent, but he was insistent on struggling for the right word and the right tense. Whenever he made a minor error he apologized - something that after awhile became slightly irritating. As good as were his speaking skills, his listening skills were not as refined. It made it difficult to have a conversation as he frequently did not respond  to my comments. For example, at one point somewhere along the highway, there was a small plane that was flying across the highway, then circling to do it again. I mentioned to Francois that I thought it was illegal for a plane to fly so low - he kept on talking about his truck. As the plane flew closer to us I realized that it was spraying the fields. Again when I mentioned to my driver what I had seen - he gave no response.

Because of his limited listening skills and/or my poor speaking skills and in spite of the fact that I have lots of questions about trucks and trucking, our conversations were somewhat one-sided. But we did have long chats about trucks, dispatchers, the advantage of automatics (I suspect that one of the reasons why Francois did not mind stopping after getting going was that he was driving an automatic and therefore stopping and starting was less of a big deal for him), the stupidity of car drivers and the equal stupidity of governments who imposed limits on truck speeds (Francoise's  truck was mechanically limited to 105 KPH - the speed limit across the Prairies is 110 KPH). We talked about family, near death experiences (Francoise had been clinically dead after an accident when he was 19 and had to work hard to regain his speech and motor skills), relationships, about freedom and about trying to do the right thing in a world where the rules are seldom clear. It was an exhausting conversation in that I had to listen very hard to understand what he was saying.

We drove together for almost 13 hours but I got out of the truck in Calgary knowing less about Francois than many of my other drivers. I think he was a complex man or at least his complexities were harder to grasp due to our language barrier. He had been married - somewhat unhappily with his wife frequently accusing (unjustly according to him)  him of sleeping with other women while he was on the road. They had four children together and I think he tried to be a good dad - especially when the kids were teenagers and could understand why the marriage failed. He certainly loved his kids and did the best he could given his lifestyle. His life style, was to my way of thinking - terrible or at least one that I could never live. He had a pick-up truck in Calgary that he was selling the following day - he never used it. He had rented a room in Calgary and had slept in only one night in the last month. He had decided to give up the room as well. There was just no point in paying rent when he was just as happy sleeping in the truck.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about my driver was that he stopped twice for a meal. Truck drivers never stop for meals - at least not in the middle of the day. I bought his lunch but not his supper. I was a bit irritated in that the almost two hours we spent in restaurants meant that we would not get into Calgary at a reasonable hour. I am not sure if stopping for two meals was his normal routine or if he did it because he was enjoying my company or at least the opportunity to practice his English.  The place we stopped for supper was almost closing and I am not sure initially how pleased the waitress or the cook were when we entered. But he was a charming man and flirted his way into their good graces. It was hard to stay angry at him - even when he ordered dessert in both restaurants. I just wanted to travel!