Oh the Places I Went.. The Final Chapter

I took a chance last January leaving a job I loved, one that was secure and rewarding, to take the opportunity to travel across my country, to spend time in big cities and small towns from coast to coast, to meet people and drink in their pubs and eat in their restaurants, to hike and take pictures and to explore, to the best of my ability, some of what makes up this great country- oh yeah.. and I would do it all on the company dime. I would work during my travels but would have loads of down time to do all the rest.

It was a year full of highs with some low moments scattered throughout that in retrospect don't seem that low at all. I ate in some of the best restaurants across the country but also spent days living out of vending machines and regional airport diners. I slept in some of the best full service hotels but also found myself sleeping in truck stops, motels and airport lounges.

I flew over hundred thousand kilometers in dozens of planes and had confidence in most of them, although if I never get on a Beechcraft 2000 twin prop again I'll be happy. I drove thousands of kilometers along the TransCanada Highway, most of it in the dark, but also drove the Yellowstone Highway, Crowsnest Highway, Coquihalla, the Road to the Shore and a dozen others that twisted, climbed and plunged through forests, prairies, mountains and valleys.

I visited totem poles in Prince Albert, Edmonton, and of course Stanley Park, wandered Royal Provincial museums as well as quaint rural museums in small northern lumber and railway towns. I  watched the deer and the buffalo play in Timmins, marvelled at the beauty of Peggy's Cove, felt the frigid wind blow through me at the corner of Portage and Main and watched the tide come in on the dramatic shores of Mad Rock.

I spent time in a half dozen provincial parks and camped in three provinces. I touched the water at the Pacific and Atlantic coasts and all the Canadian Great Lakes. I watched log booms float down the Fraser River and walked the banks of the fast and cold St Lawrence. I have watched the slow brown waters of the Saskatchewan River flow through three provinces and saw the aftermath of the swelling off the Asiniboine.

Those that know me know how much I love the outdoors, whether it's a multi day backpacking or canoe trip or a just an afternoon hike to a secluded quiet and naturally beautiful spot. Hiking is one of my favourite activities and man did I ever find some beautiful places to hike. I hiked  mountain trails and valley trails, desert cactus trails and coastal rainforest trails. Trails that lead to waterfalls, secret beaches and hidden lakes, trails that led nowhere and trails that turned out not to be trails at all. This is an incredibly beautiful country and I'm forever remember the times I explored it on foot, quiet and mostly alone.

If there is one thing I've learned is that there is always a trail, although you may have to share it with a moody cow.

I watched the sun rise dramatically over a tiny fishing village on the east coast,  and set  brilliantly behind the mountains in the west. I have stood still and felt small under the unbelievably 'big' skies of the prairie summer and gazed at the magnificent starry skies of the dark prairie nights.

I came across some weird stuff along the way including oversized statues of moose, lumberjacks, mountain goats and yodelers, a 2 kilometer long Christmas display in Kapuskasing and more bear warning signs than I can count (including the one on the hotel door in Ft McMurray) but in the race for oddest sighting of the year it's a toss up brtween the spaceship that adorns the front lawn of a house in the small town of Moonbeam, Ontario and the sign discouraaging visiters in Coalmont, BC.

And I met a lot of people along the way. Honest friendly old timers like Art (could be Bart or Arch) in Coalmont, who appeared mystically and shared stories as well as the front seat of his pickup, and Ken the Alberta rancher who almost convinced me to become an organic beef rancher even though I haven't eaten meat in almost 25 years. Memorable folks like Park Ranger 'Frances McDormand' who welcomed me to Otter Lake in her pickup and a million questions. The Francophone taxi driver who drove me 250 kms through a Northern Ontario blizzard to Kapuskasing, swerving and swearing the whole way will never be forgotten. There were random encounters with a tarot card reader in Vancouver, a blond and her grandmother in the Okanagan, Carl Pilkington who sat across the aisle from me on an airplane (even if he denied being him), a friendly and talented artist in Ft McMurray and of course the loud and proud but completely incomprehensible Newfoundlanders that gave me such a memorable welcoming on my last night in their small town and then sent me home with a beer.

I learned a bit about this country, mostly from staring at murals and dioramas in small airports, but also from striking up conversations with strangers wherever I've gone and making time to stop and  look at 'stuff'' along the way. I was lucky enough to visit a bunch of awesome cities with bright lights like Vancouver and Edmonton and St John's that I would love to see again and beautiful towns like  Smithers, surrounded by white capped mountain and clouds so close you can almost touch them. There were a bunch of places that I hope to forget quickly and never to return to but the ones that I'll remember most are the ones I discovered by accident. Old mining towns turned into ghost towns like Hedley and Tulemen in BC or the starkly beautiful rural outposts on Newfoundland's Atlantic coast like Indian Bay and Cape Freels and Musgrave Harbour with lobster pots and lighthouses and tough but wonderfully warm and friendly people.

And then it was over.

After 65 flights, 138 nights in 42 different hotels, and three destroyed suitcases the ride came to an end.

No more frantic drives to the airport only to find flights delayed, no more getting lost on the way to crummy hotels, no more meals alone in crummy towns. But... no more hidden gems in random book or record shops, no more room service, no more upgrades, no more rowdy nights in restaurants, casinos, and pubs with colleagues and strangers who became friends.

...............

A month later and I'm slowly getting used to putting my clean clothes in the closet rather than back into my suitcase and as room service has stopped coming in to make my bed I'm learning to shoulder that responsibility as well.  My wallet still bulges with receipts I collect habitually and a dozen different platinum/executive loyalty cards I no longer use and my laptop bulges with hundreds of pictures that I shuffle through constantly, reminding myself of all that I saw.

To the colleagues that made the bad times better and the good times great I say thank you. To the strangers that I met along the the way that pointed me to pubs, restaurants, hikes and other local  hot spots I say thank you. To the friends and family who celebrated birthdays, weddings, and other important days without me I say I'M HOME, LET'S GO FOR A DRINK!

And so ends the last entry of this blog. I've had a lot of fun writing it, sharing stories and experiences with an unknown audience, and with  over 1500 pageviews it seems as though someone out there has enjoyed reading it...

                      

             ...of course nothing compares to the  fun I had living it!!