PleadingPaternalInsanityVille
They say every journey starts with the first step.
For us, that first step is, more often than not, getting across that damnable bridge into Surrey.
Given that our six day, five city Northern Tour was to begin with a long first leg to Quesnel (in winter!), I wanted to be out of the house by 9:00am, expecially because we were supposed to meet friends who were coming the other way at that crazy Herbies place in Cache Creek for lunch.
Well, of course, it didn't quite work out that way.
But by ten we were inching our way along 22nd towards Boundary listening to the double whammy of banality and evil that is the ridiculous 'reasonable neo-con-rising-from-the-ashes'-type bleating coming from the modulated voice of David Frum being treated with kid gloves by brother Enright.
*****
The snow started when we got to Hope and turned left instead of Bill Bennett right.
It's been a long time since I've travelled all the way up the Canyon, and I'd forgotten how beautiful the drive is, and how much fun it is counting the tunnels (even when you're driving white knuckled waiting for your brand spanking new snow tires to grip on the black ice).
As for the little businesses along the side of the road?
Well, they're having a tough go of it, as you might imagine with everybody else going over the Coq.
*****
Because we were running late we met our friends, who were waiting for us in their gigantic red truck that is bigger than our entire house, at the little provinicial campground at the side of the road just north of Lytton.
Boy oh boy.
When you're from the crowded, claustrophobic coast, all that wide open space where the eye can find not end is just breathtaking.
After an hour of catching up and whack-a-doodle Rosey run, run, run around, she'll run around (and around and around again), we hit the road once more and almost immediately zoomed by an overpass that had a big old BC Rail sign on it.....sheesh!, couldn't they have used some of that monthly retainer money to change the signs?
Then again, now that I think of it, maybe it's a good thing/omen(?) that there are still lots of signs of what used to be the public's railway up and down the line.
After all, that way, it will be easier to change 'em back when the people finally prevail...
****
Hey!
Who shrunk the Teen Burgers!?
Root beer was good in 100 Mile House A&W though....Bigger E, especially, loves it....told her the story of how my Dad, especially after swimming at the (old) Crystal Gardens on Wednesday afternoons, used to stop and pick up a two quart garish orange cardboard carton of the stuff...when I dipped one of my fries in littler e's ketchup she exclaimed, 'Eeeeewwwwwww!, you contaminated it with Hamburger germs!'....she only eats chickenstrips at the fast-foo' emporiums when we're on the road, which we most definitely are....
****
We got to Quesnel ahead of schedule just as the snow started in earnest....Travel Lodge...pet friendly (yay!)....and you can sit by the pool punching the keyboard just as I'm doin' now....
Day 2?
Quesnel to Smithers....'only' 500km.....
Gotta go! (and get wife C. away from the goldarned 'TLC'*)
______
*Speaking of the TLC..... can there be anything more insipid and/or family fetishistic gone fascist than that 'John and Kate Plus Eight'?.....And I'm not joking...
.
No comments:
Post a Comment