On the Road Again 2015 #13

I had assumed/hoped that it would be cooler in Horseshoe Bay. I really hadn't minded the thought of spending an hour or two sitting under a tree with the cool ocean air caressing my cheeks. There are many worse places to spend one's time. But the dreams of such pleasures rapidly faded upon my arrival. There was no breeze and in the sun, it felt as hot in Horseshoe Bay as it had been in downtown Vancouver. The spaces under the trees were crowded as the waiting ferry passengers all headed for the shade.

On the ground there was a totem pole. It was about fifteen feet long, nicely carved and looked to be in reasonable shape. There was a a placard beside it saying when it was carved, why and by who. People were sitting on it. That felt a bit disrespectable to me. Totem poles are not made for sitting. Then as I walked along the pole I saw another placard stating that the pole, at the base, had started to deteriorate.  It had been laid on the ground to dissolve into the earth. Totem poles were never meant to last forever. They naturally weather and wear. The pole had reached the end of its natural life cycle. It was appropriate that it be returned into the earth, and I guess for people to sit on it.

The ferry eventually came, I got on and immediately walked to the dining room. I was hungry. It may not have been the best veggie burger I have ever had, but it tasted pretty good after not eating much since Winnipeg. While I am grateful for having at least one meal I can buy on the ferry, I do wish there were more choices.

Just after I got on board, I attached a sign to my pack saying "Duncan" in the hopes that a driver would see the sign and offer me a ride. I knew that I had long missed the last Grayhound to Duncan and in the past had had limited luck in getting a city bus to take me anywhere near the highway. It was getting late (near 7:00), and I really did not want to call for a ride from my son. I wanted to complete the trip without having to ask for a ride.

Given the lateness of the hour and the fact that it was a holiday, I was not surprised that there were no city buses waiting for the ferry passengers. I tried to engage a taxi to drive me the few miles to highway but they were too busy finding passengers going to hotels to find my request interesting or worthwhile. I resigned myself to walking to highway, a walk that is long, uninteresting and up enough of a hill to be tiring. Just as I was about to leave the ferry terminal parking lot, I saw a city bus arriving. I ran back  (always an attractive sight for waiting passengers - perhaps running with a pack should be a Pan Am sport). The bus driver told me that she was not going in the direction I needed but the next one was. The next bus driver said no..... he was going north - the previous bus would have been a better choice. I was a bit crushed. I could see the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. As I started to walk, somewhat dejectedly  away, the bus driver called to me. He could take me to the north end of town right near the highway. It was a bit weird going north with Duncan being to the south of Nanaimo, but it sounded like a reasonable plan. At least I would be out of town.

It was a good spot to hitch from and I got a ride fairly quickly from two commercial fishermen. They had been out on the  water for a few days and were happy to get home. We didn't have a lot of time to talk which was too bad as I know nothing about commercial fishing and I would like to. For the first time in my hitchhiking career, I had a beer while we were driving. I could have said no, but the offer sounded good. I was hot, tired, thirsty and ready to celebrate that I would soon be only a few miles from my final destination. Just to the north of Ladysmith the driver turned off and I got out at an A & W parking lot. I crossed the highway and stuck out my thumb for the last time this trip. The sun was low in the sky and I could barely see the oncoming cars. Just as it dipped below the trees, a Westphalia van pulled up and I got in. This was only the second time in all of my travels that I have ridden in a Volkswagen van of any vintage. My driver had spent a few days kayaking in the ocean and was now headed back to Victoria. I was especially grateful for the ride in that it meant that I neither had to sleep on the side of the road, nor call my son to be rescued.
Twenty minutes later I was getting out of the van in Duncan and ten minutes later, I was at my son's house.

Two and half day to go from Winnipeg to Duncan is pretty good travelling. There is no way that I could drive that fast. In fact I probably got to Vancouver before my train did. It had been a good trip, with no long waits between drives. My drivers had all had interesting stories and for the most part, my time in their vehicles was enjoyable. I could not have asked for anything more.

On the Road Again 2015 #12

It was hot in Hope. Really hot - that kind of heat that sucks the moisture out of every part of your body, including your hair. Thankfully it does not take long to walk through the town and soon I was at a familiar spot with my thumb out. It was slow going, there was a lot of traffic passing through the intersection just forty feet from where I stood, but much of it was going in the other direction. What vehicles did pass me were either full or had already reached maximum ramp speed. I started to second guess myself about the wisdom of travelling on a national holiday. After all how many single people would be travelling towards Vancouver? I was also a bit anxious as I did not want to get stuck in Vancouver overnight. I would rather sleep out near the terminal at Horseshoe Bay than on a park bench in Vancouver.

After about an hour of standing there, carefully nursing my water bottle (I realized far too late that (1) I should have filled up on water as I walked through town and (2) a granola bar can make you even thirstier that you were before), I got a ride to Chilliwack.

Something happened that has never happened before. I don't remember anything about the driver who picked me up in Hope, or in fact about the driver who picked me up in Chilliwack and drove me to a Skytrain Station in Vancouver.  Both of the drivers were men, they were friendly and I am sure that we chatted about the usual things. The first driver was young (I think) and was off to visit some friends. The second driver (I waited almost no time for this ride, but there was a bit of a sketchy walk from the exit ramp to get to a suitable spot at the entrance ramp ) was older. But that is it - I remember nothing about them. Which is a rather a shame as they deserve, no matter how little, some recognition that they helped a stranger out.

I got to downtown Vancouver without hassle. The cit was bustling with folks walking around with fake maple leaf tattoos (the tattoos were fake not the maple leafs), little kids with flags in their hands and the occasional obnoxious anti-Harper protester. I was standing beside a grandmother, her daughter and granddaughter who were also heading towards Horseshoe Bay. It turned out that we had just missed the bus by about 5 minutes. If I had not stopped to get a desperately needed bottle of water, I perhaps would have caught it.  There was not another express bus for an hour which would mean that I would miss the ferry I hoped to get. There was however, another slower bus leaving in a few minutes. It was a holiday, there could not be that much traffic on the road ....perhaps we would get lucky and get the ferry we wanted. Taking the slow bus also meant that I would get out of downtown Vancouver before the parade started. I am as patriotic as the next guy - but seeing a parade was pretty far down on my list of things to do.

The bus was crowded, there was far too much traffic on the road, and the driver scrupulously followed his schedule - meaning he sat at a spot for a few minutes just so he would not get to his next stop too early. We arrived at the ferry terminal just as the ferry was pulling away.

While I had some concerns about what was going to happen in terms of getting from Nanaimo to Duncan - I had achieved my goal. I would not have to spend the night in Vancouver.

On the Road Again 2015 #11

I awoke to a gorgeous morning. One could tell that it was going to be a hot one, but at 6:00 AM, the air was fresh, crisp and clean. I had not been able to see it the night before, but the front yard I had slept in was enclosed by a fairly high wooden fence. It felt quite private. While there were houses on either side, there was an empty field across the road. It all had a sense of being a rural area as opposed to an over crowded tourist area. Perhaps my impressions of the town were a bit misguided.

 I lay in my sleeping bag for a while, wondering if my getting a ride, and being such a bad guest last night meant that I should hang around for awhile. But I decided not. So I went into the house, found the bathroom, brushed my teeth, packed up my stuff and left. My driver had given me clear directions as to where to find the end of town. They were good directions, I just didn't follow them. So I ended up walking around for a bit before I figured out what he meant. If there had been a place open to get breakfast, I would have stopped, but it was July 1st and Kelowna wasn't ready to party so early in the morning.

My driver from the night before had been right ..... it was a good place to hitch from or at least it would have been if there had been lots of traffic. I suspect that it was just too early for a high volume of traffic. I think I was there for almost an hour before I car stopped for me.

My new driver was a guy in his mid thirties. He worked as a salesman for a restaurant equipment firm. According to him, while business was not booming, it was nice and steady. I think he was the natural salesman type of person. He didn't need to be pushy or overly aggressive, he was well spoken, knew his product, liked the people he dealt with and perhaps most importantly, he liked his job. He was off on a six hour bike trip.

The first step was to hide his bike near where he wanted to start from, then drive to the small town of Hope, leave his car there, hitchhike back up to the bike and then bike down to where his car was. It sounds like a lot of work, but it really wasn't. He had completed other parts of the Trans-Canada Trail in the area using the same procedure. This was his last segment. To suggest that he was looking forward to the trip would be an understatement. He was really excited and spent a fair amount of time talking about it. It was fun to spend time with someone who was passionate about what he was doing.

We also talked about his 14-15 year old daughter. She didn't live with him, but clearly he was doing his best to be a good dad. He was really proud of the fact that she knew how important this ride was for him and was supportive of him taking a day off from their time together for him to do it.

He let me out for a bit at a potential hitchhiking spot while he hid his bike (I am not too sure if he trusted me a 100%). While I did stick out my thumb whenever there was a car, I was not too serious as I knew he would pick me up and continue down to Hope - which he did twenty minutes later. We continued on to Hope, he let me out at a place where he could leave his car, I wished him a great ride, he said good luck getting to the ferry terminal and we separated. It was a good ride for a number of reasons. I got it early in the morning, I enjoyed his company and perhaps most important, while it was still hot in Hope, it would not get nearly as warm as it would in Kelowna. It felt like a good start to the day.

On the Road Again 2015 # 10

It is not possible to hitchhike from the east side of Golden to the west side. There is just too much traffic and nowhere to stand. While Golden is, at least along the highway, not a particularly large town, it is a long walk between the east and west sides. I was therefore delighted when a young man stopped and offered me a ride to the other end of town. He had a few minutes to kill and just wanted to help. He drove me to a gas station where I did buy water and then to the corner to look for my next ride. While I appreciate all of the rides that I receive, the generosity of this young person was quite energizing. Whenever I hear the older generations complain about how we are all going to hell in a hand basket  - I think of the many young people who I have met in my travels and in the classroom. I am constantly reassured by their capacity to care and to be aware of the world around them.

The only bad part of getting this drive was that I didn't have the chance to buy any food. I had only had the one egg muffin in the past two day, I wasn't hungry but I was aware that it would be a good idea to eat something. None-the-less, now that I was at the edge of town, I stuck out my thumb. It was getting late and a bit dark and storming looking.  Either I would get a ride within the next hour or so, or I would spend the night in Golden. It had been a good day and either possibility was just fine with me. Fortunately, I once again got lucky and within a few minutes a van stopped and offered me a ride to Kelwona.

This driver was friendly, perhaps too much so. He was either very bright, bombastic and assertive, or he was well read from the internet, opinionated and somewhat of a verbal bully. I could never quite figure out which. We, of course, talked about everything under the sun.  Or at least he talked about them, with me interjecting the odd comment when he stopped for a breath. It was an interesting ride. He had warned me when I got in his van that he had lots of stories to tell and he did. It had been a long day. I was glad to have someone to take the lead in both the topics and the conversation.  On occasion it was frustrating to figure out what was true and what was fiction. For example he never mentioned his education until the last hour or so of our ride together. He then told me that he had a BA, a MA and a MBA.  Not impossible but he interjected those set of facts without any context. He also was quite proud of his IQ scores (which were above "normal" but not by that much)

My driver had a number of occupations, most of them to do with the tourist industry. I was not clear as to what it all entailed but at least one of the jobs involved selling advertising space in a tourist magazine (I think), another had something to do with ecotourism. However he earned his living, he lived fairly close to some financial ledge where he was always in danger of falling off.

We had not been driving very long when it started to rain. Very shortly afterwards a rather extraordinary thunder and lightening show was put on for the drivers heading west through the mountains. It was spectacular! Going through the passes, there were times when the lightening started from high up in the sky and ran its jagged edges right to the ground.  I was glad that I was not driving. In fact there were times that it was raining so hard - that cowards like me would have stopped on the side of the road and waited for a break in the rain.

My driver was going to Kelowna - one of my least favourite cities in BC. It is very hot, busy (the highway passes through downtown) and I have always had hard time hitchhiking out of it. I could have gotten out halfway to Kelowna and headed towards Kamloops, but by the time we reached that intersection, it was dark. The last thing I wanted was to sleep on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I would deal with how to get out of Kelowna the next morning. My driver assured me that he knew of a great hitchhiking spot. I think I had heard that line before. I did not believe him.

One of the things that got my driver most excited was the fact that I could drive. Twice during our 4-5 hour trip he asked me to drive so that he could rest his eyes. He may have been the worst backseat driver I have ever had the misfortune to be with. I could do nothing right. He was particularly concerned with me driving too close to the shoulder. While I do have that tendency, I don't think he sat very often in the passenger seat and therefore didn't realize that his perspective of where the car was, was different than mine. At one point he actually grabbed the wheel and turned it. I was furious. I suggested that I would be glad to get out and let him be on his way. We had this brief shouting match that I suppose in hindsight was a bit silly, but we were both tired, it was late and for the driver - it was his only vehicle - he needed it for work and had no money to buy another one.

Thankfully we were not far from his house when the argument happened. We switched positions and within a short time we were at his house. Earlier in the evening he had stopped for some beer and the original plan was that we would arrive at his house, have a beer to celebrate our arrival and then I would set up my bivy sack in his front yard. By the time we got there, it was after 11:00, I was really tired and elected to go to sleep. I was not being a very good guest but I was too tired to care and was far past entertaining him.

His brother lived with him and before we were home for more than ten minutes, they had a huge row. Something about the plants not being watered. I crawled into my sleeping bag and was asleep within minutes.

On the Road Again 2015 #9

I, on occasion, like to gently brag that I have mastered most of the city bus systems that I need to use. That is certainly true in Calgary. I understand how the system works and in general which bus to take to get to where I need to go. My problem is that I don't understand how Calgary is laid out and therefore even when I know I am on the right bus, I always have the sense that I am lost. On this particular day that sense of almost panic was increased as it seemed as if I just missed every connecting bus. Waiting for the 15-20 minutes for the next one was frustrating. It was hot, I felt as if I was a half day behind, I couldn't find any water (I had promised myself that I would avoid buying water) and I needed to find a bathroom. I was probably a touch grumpy. Consequently when I came across the young hitchhikers and their dog, I was probably far less friendly then I should have been. I feel bad about that. I had hoped/assumed that we would meet up on the road just outside Calgary. I am sorry we didn't.

There was some major road construction occurring on the outskirts of Calgary. The bus did not take its usual route and I ended up having to walk a bit further than I normally do. Once again, my decision to lighten my pack as much as possible seemed to have been a good plan.

I have a very clear idea as to where the city limits are and never try to hitchhike inside those limits. However, this time I must confess, I did show my sign a bit early than usual. I would walk a bit when there were no cars coming and as soon as I could hear some coming, I would turn around and stick out my thumb. This is not a particularly good way of travelling. One because one, while paying the price for carrying the pack, never gets very far before needing to turn around and secondarily one misses some of the cars as they sneak by on the outside lane. Thus one gets all of the disavantages of carrying a pack with few of the advantages of hitchhiking. Perhaps even worse, this method of intermittent hitchhiking does not give the drivers enough time to see me or my sign. None-the-less I did get a ride fairly quickly. One of the first things the driver said to me was "I don't think you were outside the city limits" and "I almost didn't see you".  On the other hand, if I had waited to get to the top of the hill, I would have missed this ride.

He was only going to Canmore which was just fine for me. It was only an hour or so drive - we barely had our conversation started before it was time for me to get out. In fact I had three drives in a row that were short. Which is always a pity as there are so many neat people who offer me a ride. The vast majority of them are people who I would love to spend more time with.

At the west end of Canmore, I was tempted to cross the highway and stay in the municipal campsite. If for no other reason than the small restaurant that serves cold beer and crispy veggie burgers was right around the corner. However the need/compulsion to keep on moving was more powerful than the need for food, sleep or a shower.

My next driver was a woman going to Banff - another short hop. Delightful lady - we could have had an equally delightful chat but alas the distance between Canmore and Banff is far too short for anything more than extended introductions.

My final drive in this series of short rides was all the way to Golden which is about a hour and half ride. Once again a pleasant young man, good conversationalist, interested in my journey but very able to add his content and opinions to the conversation. In all of the brief chats, the weather, the number of fires going through the western provinces and the reasons why I and they were travelling were the topics of discussion. All three of my drivers lived in the general area that they were going to. They took it as a matter of course that they lived in that incredible landscape. None of them took it for granted, all were aware that where they lived was unique and to be treasured.

Normally I dread short drives in part because it usually means that I go an hour down the road, get dropped off at a spot that is even worse than the last spot and then end up waiting for extended periods for the next ride. However there are no bad spots to hitchhike between Calgary and Golden; the shoulders are wide, the road is reasonably straight and the scenery is extraordinary. As a bonus this time, I only had to wait 10 or 15 minutes between each ride. As I stood in one of these spots, I realized that I had not travelled this way for a few years. Three years ago I had gone north via Edmonton, the next year there had been a flood in Calgary so I had gone through Jasper and last year I had taken the train as I had hurt my back . It felt good to pass through Rogers Pass again.

On the Road Again 2015 # 8

At some point in the wee dark hours of the morning I was awakened by rain hitting my bivy sack, and a rather impressive thunder and lightning storm. Or rather it would have been impressive if I had had time to enjoy it. As it was, I was struggling to find the zipper to close up the hood of the sack. It had been a clear night and I had left the canopy open. I should have known better. The bivy sack is, even in the daylight, somewhat claustrophobic. There is not a lot of room to move and in the dark finding a small zipper is a bit of a challenge. Consequently the top of my sleeping bag got a bit wet as did the inside of my sack. It made the rest of the night a touch uncomfortable.

I was awake and up by 6:00. The sun was sort of up, trucks were moving around me and I felt somewhat exposed to the world. I say the sun was "sort of" up because ever since just west of Brandon the sky had be hazy - almost like driving through a light fog. The smoke was from fires burning further north. It irritated our eyes and while there was not an overpowering smell, the taste of smoke lingered in our throats. The smoke would be visable to just around Calgary.

Al did not have to be on the road until 8:30. However I am use to truckers getting up early, doing their log book  and then starting whenever they want to. I assumed that Al after six or so hours of sleep would be up and ready to roll. So I hung around and did not try to find a ride. I thought about it, but I am a great believer that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. I had a guaranteed ride to Calgary and perhaps to near Vancouver. While going through the Rockies in a truck is not my favourite method (due to slowness) it was better than being stuck somewhere east of Calgary. At some pont during that long morning of doing nothing. I started to wonder if using that particular bit of logic had been a mistake.

I ate a egg/muffin from Tim Hortons. While it is not a great breakfast, the taste is always  consistent. No matter where you are in Canada - it will always taste the same. It was my first hot meal since leaving Sudbury. In fact it was my first food since leaving Winnipeg the day before. After eating it far too quickly, I wandered around the parking lot and the roadway, trying to look either as if I was not lurking or that I was not impatient. I am not too sure if I was successful in this as I got some strange stares.

 There was a lot of activity on the road where the truck was parked. Tim Horton's was busy with both the truckers who stopped for a coffee and the locals who were picking up their morning fix of caffeine before heading off to their jobs. I am always surprised at how truckers can sleep through the chaos of a parking lot. With their black out curtains in place they really are quite isolated from the world. For me, travelling is a once a year adventure and it is not surprising that I am a bit impatient/excited to travel on. For truckers, this is their life. There is no more real excitement for them each morning than any other worker getting up for the day.

Waiting for someone else is boring.  I wanted to get going.  I suppose I should have gone into Timmy's and used the computer but I kept on hoping that we would be leaving soon.  Al got up just after 8:00, grabbed something to eat, and then sat in his truck until 8:30 when he was "allowed" to leave. Shortly after getting started he contacted his boss and found out that he was not going to Vancouver. He would let me out at the truck stop in Calgary which he assured me was a great place to get a ride. I once again wondered if I had misjudged the situatin; if I would have been better off getting a ride two or three hours earlier.

Of course when we got to the truck stop, while there were lots of trucks coming and going, there was really no place to stand where they could see me and have a chance to stop. So I found a bus station and made the somewhat arduous trek to the west end of Calgary. There was some road construction at the west end of the city and consequently I had to walk a lot further then normal to get to a good spot.

I never blame a driver for where he lets me out. They are not hitchhikers and I can't expect them to know what a good spot, nor to be able to get me there. It had been a great ride. We had lots to talk about. We had a real conversation with lots of give and take. While academically I was clearly better educated, he was a very experienced guy who spent a lot of time thinking about things. He was naturally inquisitive and not at all reluctant to say that he didn't know something. His knowledge of trucking was extensive and I was able to add to my knowledge of that lifestyle.But he could not explain to me what doubly clutching or a split shift was or meant. But then no trucker has been able to explain it to me. This is because of my incapacity to understand thing mechanical, not their inability to explain.

We had passed on the road two other hitchhikers and their dog. We both agreed that they would have a hard time getting a ride. I was surprised to meet them on a bus in Calgary. However they got off just before me and I never saw them again.

On the Road Again 2015 #7

One of the joys of hitchhiking is that rush one gets after waiting for some time for a ride, feeling just a little bit frustrated and then all of a sudden - a car stops and a ride is offered . There really is nothing quite like it. When the car stops - all is forgiven, the sun shines and one's faith in humanity is completely restored. I am not in anyway complaining, but when one gets a ride withing five minutes of sticking the thumb out -the rush is not quite the same. On the other hand, having a trucker stop and offer me a ride meant that I was going to get a lot further down the road than I thought I would.

The truck was messier inside than most I have travelled in, but the driver was super friendly. I won't mention the name of the company he drove for, but within a few minutes, in a response to something I said, he made it clear that his company did not allow hitchhikers. He just didn't care what they liked. I think he picked up people whenever the spirit moved him. While Al was not that old, perhaps in his mid  thirties, he really seemed to belong to that old breed of truckers who saw themselves not so much as "kings of the road" but as "knights of the road". He bemoaned the fact that truckers no longer stopped to help out a car on the side of the road; that they no longer talked to each other on CB radios -warning each other of dangers ahead (in spite of the smoke from forest fires heavy in the air, I heard no one in the 15 or so hours I was with Al use the radio).

One of the reasons for this radio silence is that cell phones work so much better for long conversations than do CB radios. The radios are only truly effective when one can see the truck you are talking to, whereas as long as there is a tower near by, on a cell phone you can talk to someone half way around the world.  Of course one needs to know the other persons phone number for this system to work.The other reason that truck drivers may be a bit insulated from everyone is the use of computers.

Al no longer had to fill out a log book. It was all done electronically. The computer told him when he could drive and when he had to stop. There could be no "fudging" of when he started, stopped or when he took his breaks. Everything he did was recorded. Given the fact that his truck was limited to 105 kilometers an hour, and that he got paid by the numbers of kilometers driven, stopping to help someone or staying extra long in the coffee shop was not really an option. The only time we sat around and waited was when, after a night's sleep, he had to wait 15 minutes before he was allowed start his driving.

Al did not know how far he could drive me.He had a load of office furniture that needed to get near Vancouver but he was no sure if he was going drop that load off in Calgary and pick up another going north. Al was a long distance driver - on this trip he might not be back until the end of July. According to Al, because there was such a shortage of drivers, it was more efficient to use someone more local for the relatively short haul from Calgary to Vancouver. However - for today he was going to Redcliff - a little town just the other side of Medicine Hat. Al was very clear that while he was glad to drive me as far as he was going, he would not let me sleep in his truck. A hitchhiker had stolen some money once and so was uncomfortable having someone in the truck with him while he was sleeping.

Other than the reduced speed (cars were zipping by us) it was a good ride. Al drank lots of coffee, so there were just the right number of stops along the way - each just long enough for me to stretch my legs. We had lots to talk about. Al had never finished high school (although he was working on his grade 12). He had been driving some kind of truck for most  his life. I suspect that truck driving is one of the few jobs left in Canada where one can make some sort of a living wage with a high school diploma. On the other hand, Al did not make that much money and seemed to have few possessions other than his Ford 150 pick-up truck. Because he was away so much and had no family,  when he was in Winnipeg, he just stayed with a friend.

I could never figure out whether Al was a closet liberal who was uncomfortable expressing his values, or if he was really a bit of a racist and a red neck who didn't want to argue with me. Regardless we covered a lot of ground talking about the human condition and why some people (including the government) seem to make such silly decisions. While we didn't even come close to solving all or even any of the world's problems, it was a highly enjoyable time. The hours flew by quickly and before I knew it it was after 1:00 AM and Al was pulling in looking for a spot to sleep for the night. The truck stop was full, so he parked, along with a few other trucks along the side of the road near a Tim Hortons. He looked in the back, and offered to clean up the top bunk. Given how much time it would take and how tired we both were, I decided to sleep outside. It was a beautiful night, balmy, just a few clouds in the sky and a bit of a breeze. There was not much room on the side of the road, the grass was dried out and the ground was hard. But there was enough room for me and I knew it would only be for a few hours. I almost didn't bother putting up the bivy sack.

By 3:00AM I was really glad that I did - but sorry that I had not zipped it all the way up.