I'm a Deaf vagabond currently living on Vancouver Island. Bicycles dominate my life, but I also make time for climbing, hiking, camping, and cats. And if I have time left over after all that, I write about it.
I dreamt I was outside talking with Mom when we happened upon an old lady lurking through the woods, dragging a plastic trash bag behind her. The lady was plucking softball-sized cotton balls out of the conifers. The squirrels and assorted small woodland creatures depended on these cotton balls to survive winter, and this crone was picking at their chance for survival. Mom was displeased by this lady’s actions but unwilling to say or do anything. Mom was one of those: a complainer, not a doer.
Fuck it. I boldly marched up to the lady, poked holes in her bag with my index fingers and ripped the bag apart, allowing the cotton balls to tumble out. When I hurried back to Mom, I could see the disappointed look on her face. She was not happy about what I’d done. Mom was so disappointed in me that she refused to speak to me. I tried to make sense of this.
It’s a small town in the Okanagan that captured our tourism dollars because it was starting to get dark. I’d reserved a hotel room in exotic Langley. Initially, Jordi and I would spend the night in Vancouver, but hotel rooms cost $400 per night. Langley was marginally cheaper at ~$300, but it was conveniently just off Highway 1.
At 8 p.m., we were three hours away from Langley. After convincing the hotelier in Langley over the phone to waive our booking fee, Jordi asked me to find new lodging before the sun disappeared.
Unbeknownst to Jordi, I’ve slept on a mat in a coed dorm room in Beijing. I’ve slept in a windowless room in Airlie Beach where the only alternate exit in case of fire was a porthole in the ceiling. The Hostelling International accredited hotel in Ghent had black mould in the showers. I’ve stayed at the bizarrely named “Sparkling Dolphin Inn” in Kyoto, where the chairs wore baby socks.
I am a connoisseur of dumpy lodgings.
I pointed to a building just off Crowsnest Highway. “But that’s a motel!” exclaimed Jordi.
8:46am- Jordi and I are on our way to Calgary. We’ve been up since 4am.
I’m currently admiring the tribal and swoosh designs on trailers and RVs, while inhaling fresh manure from the fields of Chilliwack.
It is HOT.
9:03am- Chilliwack is beautiful. Every time I go through Chilliwack, I think of the deaf kid who took a taxi to get from Chilliwack to school in Langley. He did this from kindergarten until grade 12. It’s an hour drive each way, yeesh.
10:02am-
“What’s a gyme?”
Now leaving Hope. When Jordi mentioned that Rambo was filmed here, I was like, “Really? Well, I’ve never seen Rambo.”
“That does not surprise me.”
A few minutes later, we were confronted with this:
10:11am- I also wondered out loud why Hope wasn’t a more populous town. It’s a beautiful place.
Jordi said there were a lot of drug addicts.
“So does Victoria?”
But it’s boiling here and it’s somehow only 21 degrees and it’s supposed to get up to 35!
“Now I see why people don’t want to live in Hope.”
11:13am-
No.
1:16pm- Just looking at Kamloops makes me thirsty.
2/10. Would not live here.
2:35pm- 28 degrees in Salmon Arm. I’m hot and sleepy. Amazingly, Jordi is holding up well. We’re just over halfway to Calgary. Oh boy…
4:05pm- Revelstoke! Beautiful town. And they have a Quiznos Sandwicherie!
The Petro Canada convenience store also conveniently had Rick & Morty bongs.
9/10. Would live here.
4:34pm- At this point, Jordi’s windshield has become too bug-splattered for proper photos of the scenery. This is Revelstoke.
We are now passing through Rogers Pass.
4:54pm-
Jordi has a sore neck from keeping his hands on the wheel for 10 hours.
“I should have brought my stupid neck pillow… How many pillows of yours have a built-in Bolo tie?”
6:13pm- Guess we crossed the time zone.
7:28pm- We’ve crossed into Alberta! Not sure we’ll make it to Calgary before sundown. We might end up getting a hotel.
7:46pm- Over 900km now. A car with a Florida plate just passed us, followed by a car with a California plate!
We’ve gone under 5 wildlife overpasses. Ooh, here’s #6.
8:02pm- We’ve passed Florida Man, who seems to be unable to convert miles per hour into km/h.
Also… a prison bus! What a nice route for the prisoners!
8:40pm- Home stretch! About 20 minutes to go. Jordi is visibly uncomfortable. Hurry!
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