FROM HOPE TO HAPPINESS

It seems to me that I neglected to mention, in my breathless telling of my Saskatchewan travels, that I was in Kandahar again this year.  When I was in Kandahar in 2011, I thought I should probably get the Afghanistan campaign medal, having spent about as long in Kandahar as a certain general did, and he was awarded the medal.  Of course, he only accepted the medal because it would have been wrong to refuse it, said nose-stretcher being widely reported in the media.  And that same fellow is now a federal Member of Parliament in the government of Justin Truedope.  I guess they have compatible values.  Anyways I think I am due the Afghanistan medal, with rosette, for TWO tours in Kandahar.

The other observation about Saskatchewan is some of the place names.  Last time I noticed FALLIS and wondered how the good people of that hamlet pronounced the name of their municipality (turned out they say FALL as in the season, IS.  So this time I noticed Colonsay.  “OK your mind thinks it knows what to do, but what does your Colonsay?”

So when I last added details to this blog I was leaving Creston BC and foreshadowed the fact that I wound up at Hope, also in BC.  What I did not tell you was that this drive, between Creston and Hope, was INSANE.  You all know that sometimes the smallest decision will lead to consequences that one would never dream could happen.  The idea that I would proceed via the Crowsnest Pass to meet Bruce in Cranbrook pretty much dictated that I would follow the southern route through BC to the coast.  Well, if any of you in the future decide that you should drive to the west coast, my very strong advice is to avoid the southern route unless:

1.  You drive a motorcycle

2.  You drive a sports car

3.  You are a masochist

In the first two cases, you will probably enjoy all of the technical driving with turns, curves, hills/mountains, etc etc and in the latter case you will probably enjoy all of the PAIN.  In my case it would be fair to state that none of the three apply, but there I was anyway due to circumstances that had conspired to put me on this VERY aggressive road.  And to be honest I did not at all enjoy this drive, in fact it was too damned hairy for my liking and I spent much of the time praying fervently that I would not wind up churning the rhubarb alongside the road.  Or much more spectacularly, driving my truck off a zillion yard drop to certain death.  If you are asking where I put my sense of adventure, the answer is NOT HERE.  And to your very practical question as to why I decided to attempt this feat in a single day rather than tackling it over a couple days, well you see I wanted to visit a couple of friends in New Westminster for lunch on Tuesday.  New West is part of Vancouver, and from Hope it should be about two and a half hours to get there.  And so I passed the Sunshine Valley RV Campgound, where any sane person would have parked their rig for the night, and pressed on to Hope Valley RV Park.

By the time I actually got to Hope, it was evening and the sun had been  pretty much directly in my eyes for the last hour or so, but when the road was close to a mountain it was quite dark.  So I was going from darkness to brilliant and blinding sunlight, squinting through my not-so-clean windshield, and kicking myself for not stopping somewhere before then.  There was a Flying J service centre at the turn-off, and they sell Shell fuel products, which are my preferred brand, so I decided to fuel up.  Except that the pump would not accept my Flying J loyalty card (discount one cent per liter) nor my Air Miles card......but fifteen minutes later I was fuelled up and quite soon thereafter arrived at the aforementioned campground.  Fortunately, I had called from Princeton and left a voice mail asking them to please reserve a spot for me, which they did.  I got the very last site available for that night, and the lady at the office told me that she had been turning people away every day all summer.  I would not have the free wifi in the back corner of the park, and no, the campground did NOT offer the two discounts listed in Woodall’s Camping Guide (CAA and military), BUT I had a place to stay.  And plus, I had basic cable TV plug-in at the site.  But who on earth goes camping and watches TV??????  (Answer:  amongst others, the long-term occupants of the site beside me..........)

So I fired off a couple texts, to the folks I hoped to see the next day, enjoyed a splendid supper of salami and cheese microwaved on whole wheat bread, a couple glasses of bingo, and turned in fairly early.  I was up early the next morning, slammed all of my truck doors several times to return the noisy favour my next-door neighbours had given me the previous night, and headed out to the highway.  I did stop near the gate, rang up the Internet, checked my e-mails, and got a text back from Keith and Sonia in New Westminster, looking forward to lunch in a few hours.

I had been told by several people that traffic in and around Vancouver was pretty awful between about 6 and 9 am daily, so had planned to hit the outskirts of Vancouver around 0900.  But nobody told the folks in Vancouver that their traffic problems should cease around 0900, and I was fighting increasingly larger crowds of vehicles the closer I got to the Big Smoke. 

It has been pointed out to me that I call the voice in my GPS “Bitching Betty” and my mom’s name is Betty, and my mom might therefore be insulted.  I had not thought of that, since I stole the term Bitching Betty from the fighter jock community, who used to call the cockpit voice by that same name.  “ALTITUDE!!! ALTITUDE!!!” and so on.  So I will try to remember to refer to my GPS voice as Bitching Betsy instead.

Anyways, Bitching Betsy was shrieking at me about traffic congestion, as if I could not see for myself that the roads were crowded and eventually stop and go.  In fact ole Betsy would change the screen to one that gave me alternate routes.  Delay on present route fifteen minutes, delay on alternate route seventeen minutes, wow I think I will get off the highway I am supposed to take and instead detour by some unknown route.  Ummmm, no.

My phone went off in my pocket a couple times when I was on the road, so somewhere in this mess I pulled off to see what texts I had received, suspecting that it would be either Keith and Sonia, or Barry (whom I hoped to see also), or both.  Well it was two messages from Keith, waving me off.  Sonia has chronic medical conditions, including severe pain, and she was having a flare-up, unable even to get out of bed.  So my heroic efforts driving through multiple mountain passes and for hours behind the wheel, all to make this lunch appointment, were all for nought...........and I was in truly awful traffic westbound.  My plan had been to back-track to Abbotsford to meet a couple with whom I have had several gun deals, and then stay in Abbotsford overnight.  The next morning I would head to Vancouver to catch the ferry over to Vancouver Island.

The prospect of turning around to go back to Abbotsford, only to face the same kind of traffic, or worse, the next morning, was not appealing to me.  So I tried to phone Marcel and Diane on Vancouver Island, with my cell phone.  “The person you are calling does not accept anonymous calls” OK so for once I had actual cell phone connectivity but could not call the people I needed to contact........and decided I would just proceed to the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal and take my chances that Marcel and Di would be home two days earlier than my planned arrival.  The last thirty or so kilometres to the ferry took me just under two hours, and thankful indeed was I when I got into the ferry line-up, bound for Nanaimo.  And wonder of wonders, there were two pay phones at the ferry terminal!  So I got out my phone card and tried to make a call.  “Your call cannot be completed as dialled.  Please hang up and try again.”  Times three.  OK, why not read the instructions on the pay phone and oh yes, I see that if I am using a calling card I should dial zero first and then the number.  Very smugly, I did so.  “This service no longer accepts calls using a calling card, try using a credit card or call collect.”  OK it has been a few years since I made a collect call, but I do know how to do so,  and thankfully Di was at home, accepted the charges, and told me they would look forward to my arrival.

The ferry ride was unremarkable, and the drive up to Campbell River was also without incident.  Sometime around 4 pm, I pulled in to the driveway and was greeted warmly by dear friends Marcel and Diane.  I was VERY pleased to park the rig, and hope not to get behind the wheel again for a number of days.  And so I have spent a couple delightfully restorative days doing a lot of nothing and catching up on family news, housekeeping chores, and SLEEP!  Tomorrow we depart for our halibut adventure out on the west coast of Vancouver Island, north of Tofino, please wish me luck!

Doug