While I can appreciate that some Canadians are affected by the cost of cable, cell phones or even on occasion by Air Canada - those issues do not affect all of us all of the time. However, the cost of fuel for our vehicles affects almost all of us directly or indirectly.
If the Government of Canada really wanted to help the consumer they would would stop the price fixing of gasoline that occurs on a regular basis. Anyone (with the exception of the government anti-trust inspectors) would realize that there must be some sort of collusion between the oil companies. All one has to do is to watch the prices bounce up and down in concert with every other gas station in the area. For example on Thursday in my area gas cost $1.16, on Friday (the start of a long weekend) the price was up to $1.21 and now on Wednesday the price is down to $1.17. The explanation that oil prices fluctuates at the well head does not explain why the prices move up and down so rapidly in a smooth and clear connection to other gas prices in the area.
To say it is a coincidence that all gas companies decided individually to adjust their prices up and then down at the same time substantially stretches my definition of coincidence beyond usefulness.
So government - I know it is against your philosophical belief to interfere with the market place - but could you, if you are going to interfere with the market (in terms of cable or cell phone providers) anyways - could you please also stop this blatant price fixing of gasoline prices at the pump.
Not that it would make me vote for you - but I would perhaps have some respect for you when you say you care about the consumer.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Bread and Circuses
Youth unemployment/under employment, student debt, the environment, the exportation of raw resources, the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor, euthanasia, the deterioration of our infrastructure, the lack of public transport , the scarcity of affordable housing, the total absence of a national day care policy, racism, homophobia, the extraordinary disconnect between what the First Nations of Canada need and deserve and are owed as compared to what they are offered and of course the senate- the list goes on and on. All are issues that that are complex in nature and that will require the intelligence and compassion of all Canadians to resolve.
According to CBC, in the throne speech tomorrow, the government will continue to be focused on the economy. That is - they will create legislation that enables their political agenda (code words for support their right wing political base) of sound economic policies. In other words they will continue to do what they have in the past - allow the land to be raped, permit large corporations to do what they want and maintain their personal vision of Canada that is at best out of date and in fact reflects a reality that never did exist.What they won't do is deal with any of the above issues in a meaningful fashion.
On a positive note they are going to suggest that they want the cable companies to "de-bundle" their services, that cell phone companies reduce cell phone costs and that Air Canada stop over-booking flights. All of which would require some regulations in those industries - something the Conservatives have been reluctant to do. So we can assume they will not do those things but will be able to gain some credibility amongst those Canadians who have lost the ability/desire to think critically. Hopefully for most of us, we will see these plans to act on behalf of Canadian consumers - exactly that. A calculated plan to blind us from looking at the more important issues.
The government is also going to announce more funding and plans for the continued celebration of the war of 1812-14. A war that is only marginally interesting to a handful of Canadians while being totally irrelevant for a large geographic proportion of Canada. In fact with the exception of teasing some American fellow travellers about why their White House is white - the war never enters my thoughts. I don't think I am alone. We are also going start the celebrations for Canada's 150 birthday - which is not until 2017. Nothing like a long build-up.
So the government is going offer us more parties celebrating an event that had little consequence and suggest that things will get better if we just trust them. Sorry Mr. Harper -potentially better access to some specialty cable stations is not enough to convince me that I should trust you.
According to CBC, in the throne speech tomorrow, the government will continue to be focused on the economy. That is - they will create legislation that enables their political agenda (code words for support their right wing political base) of sound economic policies. In other words they will continue to do what they have in the past - allow the land to be raped, permit large corporations to do what they want and maintain their personal vision of Canada that is at best out of date and in fact reflects a reality that never did exist.What they won't do is deal with any of the above issues in a meaningful fashion.
On a positive note they are going to suggest that they want the cable companies to "de-bundle" their services, that cell phone companies reduce cell phone costs and that Air Canada stop over-booking flights. All of which would require some regulations in those industries - something the Conservatives have been reluctant to do. So we can assume they will not do those things but will be able to gain some credibility amongst those Canadians who have lost the ability/desire to think critically. Hopefully for most of us, we will see these plans to act on behalf of Canadian consumers - exactly that. A calculated plan to blind us from looking at the more important issues.
The government is also going to announce more funding and plans for the continued celebration of the war of 1812-14. A war that is only marginally interesting to a handful of Canadians while being totally irrelevant for a large geographic proportion of Canada. In fact with the exception of teasing some American fellow travellers about why their White House is white - the war never enters my thoughts. I don't think I am alone. We are also going start the celebrations for Canada's 150 birthday - which is not until 2017. Nothing like a long build-up.
So the government is going offer us more parties celebrating an event that had little consequence and suggest that things will get better if we just trust them. Sorry Mr. Harper -potentially better access to some specialty cable stations is not enough to convince me that I should trust you.
Monday, October 14, 2013
On the Road Again 2013 #22
I am now back in my apartment. I am obviously somewhat behind
in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in
sequential order.
The first words out of my older driver was "please!!!" I looked at him a bit confused. He then grabbed my sign that said Calgary and said "you should put the word please on your sign. Perhaps them more people would stop for you". He then went on a five minute rant about how many hitchhikers he sees but how none of their signs ever have the word please on them. It was an interesting comment that I have never heard before. I was a bit concerned that this guy was going a long distance and that I would end up being yelled at for the next six or seven hours. It was not a pleasant thought. But after his rather brief comments (although it didn't feel brief at the time) it was a reasonably good if short ride.
The first words out of my older driver was "please!!!" I looked at him a bit confused. He then grabbed my sign that said Calgary and said "you should put the word please on your sign. Perhaps them more people would stop for you". He then went on a five minute rant about how many hitchhikers he sees but how none of their signs ever have the word please on them. It was an interesting comment that I have never heard before. I was a bit concerned that this guy was going a long distance and that I would end up being yelled at for the next six or seven hours. It was not a pleasant thought. But after his rather brief comments (although it didn't feel brief at the time) it was a reasonably good if short ride.
My driver was a bit of a racist when it came to discussing First Nations issues (I don't remember how that topic came up - I had had clearly no control of the conversation from the second I entered the vehicle). There were the usual comments about them being lazy and expecting too much from the Canadian Government with little or no understanding on his part of the cultural genocide that has been perpetrated upon the Indigenous people of this land. I have since wondered if my driver was just a bombastic speaker. That is he said everything loudly and forcefully perhaps either because no one ever listened to him and therefore he thought saying things stridently would get other people's attention or because he was a bit of a dominating control person/bully and did not know how else to engage in a conversation with a stranger. Regardless I decided to just let him say what he wanted with me trying to slip in the odd opposing point of view when ever I could. Fortunately for perhaps both of us, he was only going to Chase which meant that we were only together for 60 kilometers. If I thought about it, I would have bet that he would let me out at spot that he would tell me was a much better spot than where he found me. I would have won that bet. He did say exactly that.
He let me out a gas station. It was not a better spot. However, on the other hand I was a bit hungry. With the exception of a couple of apples and a granola bar, the last full meal I had eaten had been on the ferry 30 odd hours ago. So I bought some water and peanuts and as I munched hand fulls of peanuts and guzzled water ) water seems to weigh less inside me than carrying in on the outside of my pack) I made sure that all of my pack straps were tight. I then crossed the highway and stuck out my thumb. There was a bit of a curve so the sight lines were not great and the shoulder was a bit narrow. I was fairly sure that I would not get ride there but would need to walk up the road a piece. I would have started walking but I was quite sure that there was not a better spot for quite a few miles. I was feeling lazy and that I had done my share of walking that day.
I was delighted to be proven wrong about it being a bad spot when a large pick-up truck stopped for me after only being there for five minutes. In comparison to my previous driver, my new driver was an absolute delight. He was the kind of person who gives everyone hope for the future. He was 26 years old and from the Maritimes. He had come to B.C. with his girlfriend and her little girl to find a job so that he could support them well. He told me that he had easily found a job on a road crew and seems to have quickly been promoted into a more responsible position. He had a great work ethic but at the same time was clearly not prepared to pushed around by his bosses. He was already looking for a job that would be more permanent/less affected by the weather and the whims of a boss and would offer more chances for promotion. When I thanked him for stopping at what was a bit of a tricky spot especially for a large truck, he quickly brushed away my comments saying ' I was going in the same direction and I had room, how could I not pick you up?" If only more drivers thought the way he did! He was a decent young person working hard to support his family. I liked him a lot. I hope he does well and gets to be in a position where he can be a model for others. He would make a great teacher.
Unfortunately he was only going to Salmon Arm, less than an hour down the road. I was starting to be concerned that I would be faced with a whole series a short rides with potentially long waits in between. I had gotten stuck in that pattern a few times along this road. Short rides from locals are great but they consume time and don't get me very far. As we were getting close to Salmon Arm he asked where he could let me off. While my traditional answer is always "as far as you are going", Salmon Arms like so many towns along the Trans-Canada is stretched out. There is also a significant long hill at the other end of town. I knew that if I had to walk through town and up that hill, that by the time I got to the top of the hill it would be getting late. My chances of a ride would be diminished and I would have to find a place to sleep. So I told him that if he had the time I would love a drive to the top hill. He said "of course, I would feel bad if I was at home knowing that I had left you to walk up the hill". As I said - he was a decent guy.
He let me out at the top of the hill at a gas station. I crossed the gas station parking lot, scrambled down and then up a deep ditch that was thankfully fairly dry and was once again standing on the highway with my thumb out. It was just pass four o'clock. I had been on the road for ten hours and had gone less than five hundred miles. I needed to increase my speed somehow. Of course of all things that I think I have control over - I know that I have none over who picks me up and how far they are going.
Friday, October 11, 2013
On the Road Again 2013 # 21
I am now back in my apartment. I am obviously somewhat behind
in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in
sequential order.
It was a rather pleasant walk along the narrow highway. There were relatively few vehicles on the road - which was a good thing as I was walking on the opposite side of the road. The road was so narrow and the shoulder so non-existent that I had decided that it was better to hitch from the left hand side as opposed to having a car come up behind me and knock me into the ditch. It felt quite awkward sticking out my left thumb instead of my right one. While I, of course tried to look optimistic whenever I heard a car approach, I really didn't expect any of the car or truck to stop. I had resigned myself to having to walk for quite a distance.
There were little farms along the way. Some of the farms looked quite successful while at other places it appeared that their only product was derelict cars. It was so early in the morning that very few of the houses looked as if the people inside were up and getting ready to start their day. In fact except for a farm dog that cautiously followed me until I left his/hers property lines and one older gentleman watering his garden I saw no one. With the fog still lying in the low lands and in spots along the river it felt as if much of the land was abandoned. It was just a little bit spooky. It was quite a charming road to walk. The river was really pretty and there were cows and horses in the fields along it meandering shore.There is something quite virtuous in feeling as if one is the first one up and about. It showed that I was not a lazy vagabond, that I was someone who deserved a ride or at least was prepared to work for it.
After walking for over an hour and half, I noted that there were a series of driveways together on the other side of the road. It looked as if there might possibly be enough room for me to stand and for a car to stop. I decided it was time for a break. I had been on this road before and I had a memory from a few years ago of there being a really nice spot with great sight lines and wide shoulders up the road. I just didn't remember how far up the road it was. My chosen spot, as I got closer and crossed the road, was not quite as good as it had appeared from a distance but it was good enough for a break.
I had just started to drop my pack on the ground when a SUV type vehicle slowed down and swung onto the narrow shoulder/driveway. I love it when things appear to have worked out like I had planned it or something!
My driver was a middle aged man who was going all of the way to Kamloops. That was about perfect. He had just spent a few days at some sort of new age retreat designed to enhance his ability to be in touch with himself and to improve his communications skills. Typically I am a bit leery about those kind of events and the people who attend them. They (the event) always seem to be created with at least a slight taint of an evangelistic camp meeting combined with a dash of over-the-top high pressure sales event. The participants, perhaps because they need to convince themselves first and then anyone around them that the experience was not a waste of their money, are inclined to be overly exuberant about their experiences. My driver was thankfully not like that at all. He had had a good time, had developed some insights into certain things that were going on in his life and recognized that at least part of the process during the last few hours was a sales pitch to attend the next training event. He had no intention of doing so. On the other hand I thing it would be fair to say that my driver enjoyed being a fringe member of the self help generation and would probably continue to read books and on occasion attend weekend get-a-ways. We didn't talk much about the actual activities but he was in a rush to get home to his family. It sounded as if he had realized something about his relationship with his family; he was anxious to get home.
At some point during our drive together my driver mentioned that he didn't usually pick up hitchhikers but was more likely to do so if he saw them walking - as if they were at least trying to get somewhere on their own. While I think I understand that sentiment, sometimes the logic of walking all day to travel 20 or so kilometers (when the nearest town is 80 kilometers away) just doesn't make any sense.
My driver had a rather unusual business - something that does not exist in Ontario. The Provincial Parks in Ontario are managed by civil servants. That is the people who take your money at the gate or the folks who drive around and make sure that you follow the rules etc are all employed directly by the government. In BC, while the Provincial Park land is owned by the state, the parks are administered and run by private companies who bid for that privilege (and profit). My driver was responsible for the administration of five or so parks. It was a fascinating conversation about how the process worked in terms of bidding and what the relationship was between the Province and the independent managers. It was a complicated job that clearly required good people skills and some business management skills. I don't think it was a way to get really rich. On the other hand, he clearly made enough money to support his family comfortably while not having to work for at least 4-5 months of the year.. It seemed like a pretty good life. While in the late spring and summer things were pretty busy, he obviously had good employees that he trusted to run things so that he could take at least part of a week off during a peak time.
I have had a lot of drivers; I have met a lot of people, but every trip I meet people who have occupations that I have never heard of. Every trip I meet at least one or two people who spend their lives doing jobs that I think I would have liked to try. This was one of the jobs.
He drove me to almost the other end of Kamloops. I still had to walk a kilometer or two to get past the last stoplight. It is a busy section of the highway. No mater when I stand there -and on almost every trip I stand there - there are so many cars, so close together and with the drivers all in a rush - that it is hard for someone to notice me or to have the space to stop. After a while I decided to walk further out of town just so the traffic would perhaps spread out and at least feel less hectic.
It was a good decision. After a 20-30 minute walk and just a few minutes on the side of the road another car stopped.
It was a rather pleasant walk along the narrow highway. There were relatively few vehicles on the road - which was a good thing as I was walking on the opposite side of the road. The road was so narrow and the shoulder so non-existent that I had decided that it was better to hitch from the left hand side as opposed to having a car come up behind me and knock me into the ditch. It felt quite awkward sticking out my left thumb instead of my right one. While I, of course tried to look optimistic whenever I heard a car approach, I really didn't expect any of the car or truck to stop. I had resigned myself to having to walk for quite a distance.
There were little farms along the way. Some of the farms looked quite successful while at other places it appeared that their only product was derelict cars. It was so early in the morning that very few of the houses looked as if the people inside were up and getting ready to start their day. In fact except for a farm dog that cautiously followed me until I left his/hers property lines and one older gentleman watering his garden I saw no one. With the fog still lying in the low lands and in spots along the river it felt as if much of the land was abandoned. It was just a little bit spooky. It was quite a charming road to walk. The river was really pretty and there were cows and horses in the fields along it meandering shore.There is something quite virtuous in feeling as if one is the first one up and about. It showed that I was not a lazy vagabond, that I was someone who deserved a ride or at least was prepared to work for it.
After walking for over an hour and half, I noted that there were a series of driveways together on the other side of the road. It looked as if there might possibly be enough room for me to stand and for a car to stop. I decided it was time for a break. I had been on this road before and I had a memory from a few years ago of there being a really nice spot with great sight lines and wide shoulders up the road. I just didn't remember how far up the road it was. My chosen spot, as I got closer and crossed the road, was not quite as good as it had appeared from a distance but it was good enough for a break.
I had just started to drop my pack on the ground when a SUV type vehicle slowed down and swung onto the narrow shoulder/driveway. I love it when things appear to have worked out like I had planned it or something!
My driver was a middle aged man who was going all of the way to Kamloops. That was about perfect. He had just spent a few days at some sort of new age retreat designed to enhance his ability to be in touch with himself and to improve his communications skills. Typically I am a bit leery about those kind of events and the people who attend them. They (the event) always seem to be created with at least a slight taint of an evangelistic camp meeting combined with a dash of over-the-top high pressure sales event. The participants, perhaps because they need to convince themselves first and then anyone around them that the experience was not a waste of their money, are inclined to be overly exuberant about their experiences. My driver was thankfully not like that at all. He had had a good time, had developed some insights into certain things that were going on in his life and recognized that at least part of the process during the last few hours was a sales pitch to attend the next training event. He had no intention of doing so. On the other hand I thing it would be fair to say that my driver enjoyed being a fringe member of the self help generation and would probably continue to read books and on occasion attend weekend get-a-ways. We didn't talk much about the actual activities but he was in a rush to get home to his family. It sounded as if he had realized something about his relationship with his family; he was anxious to get home.
At some point during our drive together my driver mentioned that he didn't usually pick up hitchhikers but was more likely to do so if he saw them walking - as if they were at least trying to get somewhere on their own. While I think I understand that sentiment, sometimes the logic of walking all day to travel 20 or so kilometers (when the nearest town is 80 kilometers away) just doesn't make any sense.
My driver had a rather unusual business - something that does not exist in Ontario. The Provincial Parks in Ontario are managed by civil servants. That is the people who take your money at the gate or the folks who drive around and make sure that you follow the rules etc are all employed directly by the government. In BC, while the Provincial Park land is owned by the state, the parks are administered and run by private companies who bid for that privilege (and profit). My driver was responsible for the administration of five or so parks. It was a fascinating conversation about how the process worked in terms of bidding and what the relationship was between the Province and the independent managers. It was a complicated job that clearly required good people skills and some business management skills. I don't think it was a way to get really rich. On the other hand, he clearly made enough money to support his family comfortably while not having to work for at least 4-5 months of the year.. It seemed like a pretty good life. While in the late spring and summer things were pretty busy, he obviously had good employees that he trusted to run things so that he could take at least part of a week off during a peak time.
I have had a lot of drivers; I have met a lot of people, but every trip I meet people who have occupations that I have never heard of. Every trip I meet at least one or two people who spend their lives doing jobs that I think I would have liked to try. This was one of the jobs.
He drove me to almost the other end of Kamloops. I still had to walk a kilometer or two to get past the last stoplight. It is a busy section of the highway. No mater when I stand there -and on almost every trip I stand there - there are so many cars, so close together and with the drivers all in a rush - that it is hard for someone to notice me or to have the space to stop. After a while I decided to walk further out of town just so the traffic would perhaps spread out and at least feel less hectic.
It was a good decision. After a 20-30 minute walk and just a few minutes on the side of the road another car stopped.
Monday, October 7, 2013
On the Road Again 2013 #20
I am now back in my apartment. I am obviously somewhat behind
in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in
sequential order.
Laying in my little clearing it was far noisy than I thought it would be. While I had assumed that I was at least a mile or so away from the little village, it was I think, much closer than that. Through the woods I could hear people quite clearly yelling back and forth. In fact it sounded as if there was quite a party happening. While I was very aware that I was trespassing on someone's land, I was a bit annoyed that I could not have absolute peace and quiet when I wanted to sleep. However in spite of the noise I did drift off.
I think I slept fairly well until about 1:30 or 2:00. I am not too sure what woke me up. Perhaps it was the incredibly bright moon that was just showing itself over the forested hills, perhaps it was the realization that finally the party had stopped and there was no more yelling, but most likely it was the number of dogs barking. Not just a few dogs occasionally barking but a whole pack of them going at it for five or ten minutes at a time, then a brief respite from the noise and then they would start again. Clearly something was agitating them. I would drift off to sleep during a lull in their excitement only to be woken up again when whatever it was that was stirring them up, stirred them up. When I think back to the night it strikes me that not once did I hear anyone yell at the animals to shut up. Perhaps no one did because it was a nightly occurrence.
As I lay there wondering what all of the excitement was - I remembered the bear that I had seen the year before. I suddenly realized that I was in bear country and that most likely a bear (or two) was around the village and perhaps that was why the dogs were so excited. As I lay in my suddenly far too small and far too restrictive bivy sack, I realized that if an animal came towards me, I would not be able to get out of it quickly. I decided that I would unzip the sack and then my mummy bag - just in case I saw or heard something. That way I would be able to make a quick dash to the pile of wood and grab a ten foot piece of lumber to ward off the bear if it should decide to get overly interested in me. It was a great plan except for the fact that I could not find the zipper. The more I looked for it (and couldn't find it), the more I panicked and therefore the harder it was to find. As I mentioned a number of blogs ago - it really is cramped inside that sack and it is difficult to move around. In a momentary lull from the barking and from my frantic search for a way out I was sure that I heard something thrashing in the woods around me. I would have bet money that it was getting closer. I became quite convinced that I was a much more tempting target than anything around that village.
Eventually I found the zipper to the sack (I have promised myself to practice getting in and out of it in the dark or at least attaching some sort of larger tag on the zipper) opened it up and sat up. By that point the dogs appeared to be calming down a bit and the noise in the bushes seemed to have, if not stopped, at least it was not getting any closer. I sat there for awhile making sure that my boots were close by and that I knew where my glasses, flashlight and watch were. Eventually I decided to lie down. I think I dozed for the rest of the night.
In hindsight it was all rather silly. If a bear really wanted to check me out, there is no way I could have gotten out of the bag and to the wood pile fast enough. I also realized that night that I was just a bit more claustrophobic than I thought I was.
I was up the next morning before the sun showed itself over the mountains. It was gray and foggy; I was cold and damp and there was no point in hanging around. I had decided at some point in the night that rather than stay at the corner, I would start to walk down the road. There had to be a better place to stand. No one builds a road that has no shoulders on it - do they?
Laying in my little clearing it was far noisy than I thought it would be. While I had assumed that I was at least a mile or so away from the little village, it was I think, much closer than that. Through the woods I could hear people quite clearly yelling back and forth. In fact it sounded as if there was quite a party happening. While I was very aware that I was trespassing on someone's land, I was a bit annoyed that I could not have absolute peace and quiet when I wanted to sleep. However in spite of the noise I did drift off.
I think I slept fairly well until about 1:30 or 2:00. I am not too sure what woke me up. Perhaps it was the incredibly bright moon that was just showing itself over the forested hills, perhaps it was the realization that finally the party had stopped and there was no more yelling, but most likely it was the number of dogs barking. Not just a few dogs occasionally barking but a whole pack of them going at it for five or ten minutes at a time, then a brief respite from the noise and then they would start again. Clearly something was agitating them. I would drift off to sleep during a lull in their excitement only to be woken up again when whatever it was that was stirring them up, stirred them up. When I think back to the night it strikes me that not once did I hear anyone yell at the animals to shut up. Perhaps no one did because it was a nightly occurrence.
As I lay there wondering what all of the excitement was - I remembered the bear that I had seen the year before. I suddenly realized that I was in bear country and that most likely a bear (or two) was around the village and perhaps that was why the dogs were so excited. As I lay in my suddenly far too small and far too restrictive bivy sack, I realized that if an animal came towards me, I would not be able to get out of it quickly. I decided that I would unzip the sack and then my mummy bag - just in case I saw or heard something. That way I would be able to make a quick dash to the pile of wood and grab a ten foot piece of lumber to ward off the bear if it should decide to get overly interested in me. It was a great plan except for the fact that I could not find the zipper. The more I looked for it (and couldn't find it), the more I panicked and therefore the harder it was to find. As I mentioned a number of blogs ago - it really is cramped inside that sack and it is difficult to move around. In a momentary lull from the barking and from my frantic search for a way out I was sure that I heard something thrashing in the woods around me. I would have bet money that it was getting closer. I became quite convinced that I was a much more tempting target than anything around that village.
Eventually I found the zipper to the sack (I have promised myself to practice getting in and out of it in the dark or at least attaching some sort of larger tag on the zipper) opened it up and sat up. By that point the dogs appeared to be calming down a bit and the noise in the bushes seemed to have, if not stopped, at least it was not getting any closer. I sat there for awhile making sure that my boots were close by and that I knew where my glasses, flashlight and watch were. Eventually I decided to lie down. I think I dozed for the rest of the night.
In hindsight it was all rather silly. If a bear really wanted to check me out, there is no way I could have gotten out of the bag and to the wood pile fast enough. I also realized that night that I was just a bit more claustrophobic than I thought I was.
I was up the next morning before the sun showed itself over the mountains. It was gray and foggy; I was cold and damp and there was no point in hanging around. I had decided at some point in the night that rather than stay at the corner, I would start to walk down the road. There had to be a better place to stand. No one builds a road that has no shoulders on it - do they?
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
On the Road Again 2013 #19
I am now back in my apartment. I am obviously somewhat behind
in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in
sequential order.
I suspected that it was going to be a long and sometimes frustrating day. The corner I was stuck at really feels like the middle of nowhere in spite of the fact that there is a church and house on the corner, lots of people walking by and a little bus shelter . I suspect that the narrowness of the road (especially as compared to the highways leading up to and around Whistler) adds to the sense of isolation. It is also one of the few spots in Canada where I feel like a true outsider. I am never really part of the communities I pass thorough, but usually I am not aware that I might not fit in. As mentioned previously there are a number of First Nations Communities in the area. All of the folks who were hitchhiking at the corner were from the local area and they just ignored me. No eye contact, no smiles, no friendly waves. But then there is no reason why they should reach out to me. I am a visitor to their land. Perhaps that is what makes me uncomfortable.
I stood there for hours and hours.The day that had started off being bright and sunny - stayed that way. When there were no vehicles coming I ducked inside the bus shelter to get out of the sun so that I could avoid getting a sunburn and more importantly becoming dehydrated. Cars passed at irregular intervals with at least two thirds of them being driven by local folks just going up the road. Every time a vehicle did pass I had to remember to smile which sometimes seems like a useless exercise as I am not sure if people can see my smile underneath my shaggy mustache. The local bus drove by every hour and more than once I was tempted to flag it down for a ride just to get away from the corner. The driver however never gave any indication that he would stop even if I did flag it down. Maybe there is a rule that I don't know about - hitchhikers can't ride rural buses. Or maybe he just did not want me.
In spite of the sense of isolation there were a couple of events that re-confirmed to me my sense that the world is full of good people. I needed to get more water so I went to the nearest house and asked if I could fill up my jug. The dad who was looking after his four children was gracious- not communicative but gracious and kind. A car which had just picked up a local hitchhiker stopped so that my fellow hitchhiker could pass me a few apples to munch on and a kind lady going the other way stopped to ask me if I was okay. She said that she had seen me a few hours earlier and was worried about me. It is impossible for me to express how such small gestures can make me feel.
By the time it was 9:00, it was clear that I would not get a ride that day. All day I had been looking at various spots along the side of the road as potential sleeping spots. None were very attractive either in terms of some privacy, being level or being reasonable without rocks. I also had some concern over that bear I had seen the year before. The best sleeping spot was right where the bear had left the forest to cross the road.While I might not be the brightest traveller or the most careful, camping near a bear trail sounds particularly stupid. I was not happy about any my choices so I picked up my pack and walked 100 meters down the road and turned at dirt road that I thought might lead to somewhere safer and quieter. Much to my surprise, just after I turned on to the dirt road there was a lovely clearing with lots of flat land and thick grass. At one end there was a pile of long skinny bits of cedar that appeared to be the off-cuts from a small milling operation. It was perfect. I quickly assembled my bivy sack in the near dark, ate one of the apples and got into bed. It had been a long day. I had not gone very far but at least I was on my way and that was good enough.
I suspected that it was going to be a long and sometimes frustrating day. The corner I was stuck at really feels like the middle of nowhere in spite of the fact that there is a church and house on the corner, lots of people walking by and a little bus shelter . I suspect that the narrowness of the road (especially as compared to the highways leading up to and around Whistler) adds to the sense of isolation. It is also one of the few spots in Canada where I feel like a true outsider. I am never really part of the communities I pass thorough, but usually I am not aware that I might not fit in. As mentioned previously there are a number of First Nations Communities in the area. All of the folks who were hitchhiking at the corner were from the local area and they just ignored me. No eye contact, no smiles, no friendly waves. But then there is no reason why they should reach out to me. I am a visitor to their land. Perhaps that is what makes me uncomfortable.
I stood there for hours and hours.The day that had started off being bright and sunny - stayed that way. When there were no vehicles coming I ducked inside the bus shelter to get out of the sun so that I could avoid getting a sunburn and more importantly becoming dehydrated. Cars passed at irregular intervals with at least two thirds of them being driven by local folks just going up the road. Every time a vehicle did pass I had to remember to smile which sometimes seems like a useless exercise as I am not sure if people can see my smile underneath my shaggy mustache. The local bus drove by every hour and more than once I was tempted to flag it down for a ride just to get away from the corner. The driver however never gave any indication that he would stop even if I did flag it down. Maybe there is a rule that I don't know about - hitchhikers can't ride rural buses. Or maybe he just did not want me.
In spite of the sense of isolation there were a couple of events that re-confirmed to me my sense that the world is full of good people. I needed to get more water so I went to the nearest house and asked if I could fill up my jug. The dad who was looking after his four children was gracious- not communicative but gracious and kind. A car which had just picked up a local hitchhiker stopped so that my fellow hitchhiker could pass me a few apples to munch on and a kind lady going the other way stopped to ask me if I was okay. She said that she had seen me a few hours earlier and was worried about me. It is impossible for me to express how such small gestures can make me feel.
By the time it was 9:00, it was clear that I would not get a ride that day. All day I had been looking at various spots along the side of the road as potential sleeping spots. None were very attractive either in terms of some privacy, being level or being reasonable without rocks. I also had some concern over that bear I had seen the year before. The best sleeping spot was right where the bear had left the forest to cross the road.While I might not be the brightest traveller or the most careful, camping near a bear trail sounds particularly stupid. I was not happy about any my choices so I picked up my pack and walked 100 meters down the road and turned at dirt road that I thought might lead to somewhere safer and quieter. Much to my surprise, just after I turned on to the dirt road there was a lovely clearing with lots of flat land and thick grass. At one end there was a pile of long skinny bits of cedar that appeared to be the off-cuts from a small milling operation. It was perfect. I quickly assembled my bivy sack in the near dark, ate one of the apples and got into bed. It had been a long day. I had not gone very far but at least I was on my way and that was good enough.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
On the Road Again 2013 #18
I am now back in my apartment. I am obviously somewhat behind
in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in
sequential order.
It was a bright hot day. There were a lot of cars on the road. However, most of them were clearly only going a short distance and neither I nor the drivers gave each other much of a look. I am sure than in the space of 30 minutes literally hundreds of cars went by me. There were also a lot of high tech road racing bikes on the road - some which had those fancy solid wheels that one sees at the Olympics - designed, I assume, to be more aerodynamic. The bikes were ridden by guys wearing really weird equally as aerodynamic bike helmets. In the past around Whistler I had noticed a lot of mountain bikes ridden by mainly guys wearing a lot of protective body armour designed, I assumed to protect them from spills as they bounced/sped down the mountain. While both groups rode machines with two wheels there was a considerable difference between the two types of participants. The road racers looked dead serious, they were minimally dressed and were working very hard. The down hill guys were frequently covered in mud and they looked quite relaxed as they biked around town before going up the mountain in the chair lift again.
Neither sport appeals to me. In one the rider is exhausted by the countless miles of uphill climbs done at maximum speed and effort, all the while being aware of and afraid of idiot drivers speeding along the mainly two lane highway; in the other one must always be scared of the steep downhill course with all of the twists and turns of the mountain trails as well as the hidden rocks and roots just waiting to flip you.
My first ride, after almost an hour of standing there was a brief one but it got me out of the commuter traffic around Whistler. The driver and his other passenger worked in the area and were just on their way home. We did not get the chance to talk much but clearly they were just two nice guys who had hitched before and knew that where I was, was not a great spot. They drove a few miles down the road to where traffic was less chaotic and where there was a chance that people going by might be going a fair distance. I noticed some signs along the highway informing the public that the road was going to be closed for a large part of Sunday as there was a triathlon happening in Whistler on the weekend. Which explained all of the road racers practicing. I was so glad that I had left a few days earlier than planned. If I had gotten to Whistler on Saturday, I might have had a very hard time getting out of town before Monday.
My next ride, which happened within 20 or so minutes of standing there was from a dad with his two daughters. In the last year or so I have noticed a slight change in who picks me up. There was a time when if I saw that there was a child in the car, I just assumed that I would not be getting a ride. That has started to change. Not that I get a lot of rides from parents with children in the car but I am getting more now than ever before. I am not too sure why but I am grateful. Anything that expands my potential audience is a good thing. Unfortunately these folks too were just going down the road a short ride but my driver kindly decided to go just a bit further and take me down to the corner where one either goes straight to Duffy Provincial Park or turns and continues east down highway 99. The most exciting thing of this short trip was that one of the young girls in the back had a tooth come out. It was a big deal - and so it should be. Their dad and I talked about dad stuff - raising kids and trying to figure out the balance between rules and structure and how to give enough freedom so that they grow up strong. It is a fascinating discussion - one that I will, I suspect, have with every dad I travel with. We all want to know the answer.
I had been at this spot a few times before and I knew three things about it. One was that I was in the middle of a First Nation community and that there would be lots of hitchhikers who would all get rides fairly quickly; two, that there were no shoulders on the road. The only place to stand was where every one else did; and three that there were bears in the area. Last year I had seen one cross the road within ten or fifteen feet of me. I settled in for what I knew could be a long wait.
It was a bright hot day. There were a lot of cars on the road. However, most of them were clearly only going a short distance and neither I nor the drivers gave each other much of a look. I am sure than in the space of 30 minutes literally hundreds of cars went by me. There were also a lot of high tech road racing bikes on the road - some which had those fancy solid wheels that one sees at the Olympics - designed, I assume, to be more aerodynamic. The bikes were ridden by guys wearing really weird equally as aerodynamic bike helmets. In the past around Whistler I had noticed a lot of mountain bikes ridden by mainly guys wearing a lot of protective body armour designed, I assumed to protect them from spills as they bounced/sped down the mountain. While both groups rode machines with two wheels there was a considerable difference between the two types of participants. The road racers looked dead serious, they were minimally dressed and were working very hard. The down hill guys were frequently covered in mud and they looked quite relaxed as they biked around town before going up the mountain in the chair lift again.
Neither sport appeals to me. In one the rider is exhausted by the countless miles of uphill climbs done at maximum speed and effort, all the while being aware of and afraid of idiot drivers speeding along the mainly two lane highway; in the other one must always be scared of the steep downhill course with all of the twists and turns of the mountain trails as well as the hidden rocks and roots just waiting to flip you.
My first ride, after almost an hour of standing there was a brief one but it got me out of the commuter traffic around Whistler. The driver and his other passenger worked in the area and were just on their way home. We did not get the chance to talk much but clearly they were just two nice guys who had hitched before and knew that where I was, was not a great spot. They drove a few miles down the road to where traffic was less chaotic and where there was a chance that people going by might be going a fair distance. I noticed some signs along the highway informing the public that the road was going to be closed for a large part of Sunday as there was a triathlon happening in Whistler on the weekend. Which explained all of the road racers practicing. I was so glad that I had left a few days earlier than planned. If I had gotten to Whistler on Saturday, I might have had a very hard time getting out of town before Monday.
My next ride, which happened within 20 or so minutes of standing there was from a dad with his two daughters. In the last year or so I have noticed a slight change in who picks me up. There was a time when if I saw that there was a child in the car, I just assumed that I would not be getting a ride. That has started to change. Not that I get a lot of rides from parents with children in the car but I am getting more now than ever before. I am not too sure why but I am grateful. Anything that expands my potential audience is a good thing. Unfortunately these folks too were just going down the road a short ride but my driver kindly decided to go just a bit further and take me down to the corner where one either goes straight to Duffy Provincial Park or turns and continues east down highway 99. The most exciting thing of this short trip was that one of the young girls in the back had a tooth come out. It was a big deal - and so it should be. Their dad and I talked about dad stuff - raising kids and trying to figure out the balance between rules and structure and how to give enough freedom so that they grow up strong. It is a fascinating discussion - one that I will, I suspect, have with every dad I travel with. We all want to know the answer.
I had been at this spot a few times before and I knew three things about it. One was that I was in the middle of a First Nation community and that there would be lots of hitchhikers who would all get rides fairly quickly; two, that there were no shoulders on the road. The only place to stand was where every one else did; and three that there were bears in the area. Last year I had seen one cross the road within ten or fifteen feet of me. I settled in for what I knew could be a long wait.
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