2019 On The Road Again #7

My new driver had spent a lot of time working in Fort McMurray. I think he had almost spent as much time driving back and forth visiting his children and other friends and relatives in the southern part of the province. He was an interesting guy and I had lots of questions about Fort Mac and how it was recovering from the fire of two years ago. I had sort of assumed that with the slump in oil prices and the much-discussed demise of the oil industry, that the inflationary cost of housing and the general cost of living in Fort McMurry had been reduced. Apparently not.

My driver was a good conversationalist, he had clearly defined thoughts on global climate change and I think could see a time when the demand for Canadian oil would all but wither away. He was a realist who could see a future outside of the oil patch. My driver had more than one child with more than one woman. I think he understood that his lifestyle precluded a successful relationship. He had spent a fair amount of money getting himself out of the tangled financial predicament spousal separation can cause. But he had a plan, knew that if he stayed out of debt that within a few years he could stop the crazy commute between his family and Northern Alberta. He wanted to have a relationship with his kids and he was prepared to work hard to get it. The other hitchhiker was in the back seat, he didn't say much but when he did, none of the comments seemed to fit with the conversation the two of us were having in the front seat. It made it difficult to have a lengthy discussion on any one topic.

My driver had to stop along the way to get gas and to buy some candy for his daughter, then we drove to a small peaceful little town, somewhere between Brandon and Regina (I will never know where) where he visited with his daughter for 30-40 minutes. My fellow hitchhiker and I hung around the corner from my driver's ex-wife's house. We had very little in common. He had some sort of disability including bad knees, being blind in one eye and although I did not know it until later - partially deaf. He spoke quite loudly and his choice of language was more than a bit vulgar. I am not too sure if the neighbours could hear us or not, but I was uncomfortable with his choice of words. He was a far more experienced hitchhiker than me. He had travelled a lot across Canada - not because he had somewhere he needed to go but because he was bored. I think also that when he was travelling, he bummed money from people, hustling for change by playing his harmonica outside of the various Tim Hortons. It was probably easier to stretch out his disability cheque when he was away from home.

I was getting a little bit anxious. I trusted my driver but between the break for gas, the stop to see his daughter and the fact that I was more than a little bit lost, it felt as if everything was way beyond my control - far more than usual. Finally, my driver came back to the truck and we were off. Both the driver and the hitchhiker agreed that I did not want to get stuck in the busy part of Regina (where they would head north). Besides my driver was going a different way to Edmonton and would not be passing through downtown Regina. But they both knew of a great Flying J truck stop just east of Regina where I could get an easy ride.

When we got there, my heart sank. The truck stop was in the middle of nowhere, it was getting dark and I knew that I would be spending another night at a gas station. The other hitchhiker got out of the truck and went inside. He had been there a week or so ago and had left his hearing aids in the bathroom. He had wanted to stop there to see if they had found them. I felt a little bit less generous towards him as I realized his enthusiastic encouragement of the driver letting me off here at this truck stop had perhaps more to do with his need for his hearing aids than any belief that this was a great spot to get a ride. It also explained why his comments never quite fit into our conversation - he probably missed much of our conversation.

The two of them left - I hung around the exit but I could tell that I was not going to get a ride. There were lots of cars coming and going, but they appeared to be all local drivers. I grabbed a sandwich and some potato wedges (I had not eaten since the train) and tried to find a spot to relax. There was almost no grass to lay on and all of sudden it had gotten cold and windy. The one exciting thing that happened was that I got to watch a firework display. The night before there had been a horrendous storm with a torrential downpour. A truck driver told me that it had been so windy that he could barely control his truck - so the fireworks from the nearest town had to be postponed for a night. It was a good display.

I spent much of the night huddled, wrapped in my sleeping bag under the dryer vent which for most of the night blew warm air. Not a fun night.

The next morning I was up early, I got a number of looks from some drivers, even some friendly nods - but no offers. By 6:30 I had trudged back to the Trans-Canada and my thumb was out again.