Personal

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Things; Some Bad, Some Good

Bad:

There was another shooting in Langley this week, a few blocks from the one last Friday, in a busy shopping area I used to frequent regularly. Then, two nights ago, there was another shooting, the ninth in eleven days, near the home of my relatives in Coquitlam. At least, arrests were made in that incident. The violence is escalating and has encroached on ‘home’, making me leery of going out beyond the confines of south Surrey and White Rock.  It’s a miracle that no innocent bystanders have been injured yet, but give it time. I remember the biker wars in Montreal in the late 90’s that culminated with a young boy being the victim of a car bombing and I hope that nothing so tragic happens here before the violence stops.

Good:

All roads seem to lead to Vancouver! It seems that I am to be blessed with the visit of a friend every month for the rest of my time here in the GVR! Two of these friends are from ‘back home’ in Ottawa and have not been seen since I left in September. The first visit will occur at the end of this month; my friend is coming to Vancouver on business and the plan is to meet up for dinner downtown on one of the two nights that she’s here. The second visit is a possible from my friend Donna, whom I met in Oliver. The third visit is from my best friend of nine years now (already!) who will be coming for a full week! She’s deathly allergic to cats, so she’ll be staying at a motel, but it will be so nice to introduce her to this area! Well, at least the part that isn’t riddled with bullet holes… 😉

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Sad News

Bob Skelding is one of my favourite RVing bloggers. Like me, he’s a little on the young side for full-timing, and believes in doing things his own way. He hit the road in a tiny home-made RV pulled by four draft horses.

His dream was cut short abruptly on February 10th when he was struck from behind by an 18 wheeler cresting a hill. Two of Bob’s horses were killed, two are being cared for by a local veterinarian, Bob is in critical care in hospital, and his RV has been totaled.

I don’t know if Bob’s story is over or if this incident will just be a chapter of his own great big adventure, but I am sad tonight. I am thinking of a kindred soul who dreamt of a simpler life and a slower pace and whose dream was crushed by the realities of the modern world. I wish him a speedy recovery of both body and soul.

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Duck Shoes, Redux

This picture is for my friend Dee who wanted to see what my duck shoes look like. The PJs are a bonus. 🙂

(It only took me two hours to get this picture online with our internet connection here. Which explains why I haven’t been posting much lately and have been slow to approve and respond to comments. Yes, I’m fed up.)

Sometimes practically trumps style!

Sometimes practicality trumps style!

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Well, That Was Close

The past few Friday evenings, since a couple of weeks before I started my new job, I’ve been going to dinner and then seeing a movie. I always go to the Colossus in Langley because there is a Montana’s restaurant just across the parking lot and Montana’s is my favourite place to go when I want cheap and delicious food I didn’t cook myself.

I’ve been coming down with a cold all week and it hit overnight, so I felt increasingly worn down as the afternoon progressed. I argued back and forth with myself about whether or not to go out and I finally decided to just go home.

Which is good because just about the time I would have been pulling into the parking lot at the theatre, there was a gang shooting. Twenty plus shots fired, one person gravely wounded.

Oookay, I think I’m going to start going to the theatre in White Rock instead.

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Touching a Dream

Who says that you should only fulfill one dream at a time? Sometimes living one dream can help you make another come true.

I acted on impulse tonight, did something without thinking it through at all. It might seem to some that this is how I make all my decisions, but that’s only an impression, because I don’t share all the behind-the-scenes planning. But this thing I did, I did without any reasoning. It was foolish and brave and on this second February 5th without my father, it was just the sort of thing my wounded heart needed. I truly think he had a hand at it.

Let’s start at the beginning.

For years, I have dreamt of visiting the Canadian north. I looked for jobs in Dawson City, Whitehorse, Inuvik, Yellowknife… Applied for positions in such far off places as Hay River and Paulatuk… Yearned especially to to take a ferry up the inside passage to Skagway and hike the Chilkoot pass to the Yukon…

Jobs were hard to find from the Outside and I didn’t have the means to get up there on my own. I did come very close to a summer job in Dawson City, but I didn’t have my degree yet, so the job slipped through my fingers. Then a friend and I were going to max out our credit and savings and go spend three weeks hiking in the Yukon. Several financial crises came up that spring and I had to cancel the trip. My father’s one final wish for his life was to take an Alaskan cruise. When we realised that he didn’t have much time left, I scrambled to find the necessary money to take him on such a trip. But it was too late; his doctor would not allow him to go.

Finally, I decided that the north was a dream I had to abandon. I never had any intention of settling there permanently and my financial situation wasn’t stable enough to give up everything to relocate there for a year or two and then come back. I also didn’t really want to see the north in winter. Been there, done that, after spending almost a full month in arctic Quebec in my youth.

So, there was no doubt in my mind, when I set off on my great big adventure last fall, that I would find my way to the Yukon. I dreamt of the Chilkoot, but felt that was still beyond my grasp. It’s just not something a smart solo hiker would do and the logistics of joining an organized group were daunting. I still researched options last June, to convince myself that even if I got as far as Whitehorse, the Chilkoot would not be doable, and ended up finding a tour group that departs from Whitehorse and returns you to Whitehorse. It offered the best itinerary, bang for the buck, and an easier(ish) seven day tour schedule. That’s the tour I would have done, if doing such a tour was possible.

I think my dad was speaking to me tonight because without any sort of prompting, I found myself on Google typing in “Chilkoot Pass”, and one of the first links that came up was for that tour company. They were still offering the hike, including one in mid-July, the date I wanted, and there was space for just one more person….

A lot can happen between now and mid-July, I have to figure out what to do with Miranda and the cats for a week, I need to come up with 1,500$ by the beginning of May, and I have to whip my ass back into shape, but I just put a non-refundable 500$ deposit on a dream.

All I can say is that fulfilling dreams is addictive.

How then am I so different from
The first men through this way?
Like them I left a settled life,
I threw it all away,
To seek a northwest passage
At the call of many men,
To find there but the road back home again. (Stan Rogers, ‘Northwest Passage’)