I got two great stories for this week's show from Kelly, Tanya, and Steph. They were kind enough to share tales of their roadtrips past.
"Like most university students, I spent most of my time in school barely eking out an existence while paying my tuition. As such, in my four years there, whenever reading week came around, I was one of the jealous yearners who watched as my wealthier (or at least better-funded) friends took off to Cancun for the week. In my last year, my good friend Steph and I decided that we'd make our own fun on the few hundred bucks we'd managed to scrounge together from part-time work slinging coffee. And what fun can you have for $400 for a few days? Two words: road trip.
We filled Steph's rusty old Toyota with snacks and some extra clothes, bought a disposable camera to capture the fun, and took off down the road with a map and a sense of adventure. We headed south and made our first stop in Hardisty, where Steph's parents lived, to say hi and get a nice, home-made meal on our way. As we discussed our non-plan for the trip, Steph's dad took out a brochure he'd recently received about visiting all the "big" things across Alberta--the pysanka in Vegreville, the Mundare sausage, etc. Never before had we realized how much huge crap Albertans had erected in their small towns! We found a couple of places on the map that were on our route, and made our way first to Donalda, home of the world's largest lamp. Pulling up to the town's main street, we burst out laughing in realization that the lamp we had envisioned--pull cord, bulb and maybe a fancy shade--wasn't the giant steel oil lamp in front of us. We took photos with it, then trekked down to the Donalda oil lamp museum (yes, a museum dedicated to lamps) which the corner store owner had to go unlock for us, as we were its only visitors that day.
From there, we headed south to Drumheller to run around the giant T-rex (Albertosaurus?), although we were too skinflint to pay to climb him. We stayed the night at a classy Best Western, which turned into a side project to find a place that rented movies, but that's another story for a non PG-rated day.The next day we visited the Royal Tyrrell museum, mucked about with the hoodoos and started driving back home to Edmonton. Along the way, we stopped in abandoned farmhouses, left to rot in the middle of fields, and searched for treasures or at least signs of the lives that were once there.
Back home, I turned in our disposable camera to print off all the photos that we could then show off to all those bozos who thought a trip to Mexico was cool. Unfortunately, we never got the chance, as all our precious photos were lost by the imbecile teenaged photo techie who exposed the film when he opened the camera. But we'll always have the memories."
- Kelly
"So I was on my way to Vancouver to see the White Stripes play with 2 friends. We left Edmonton at midnight, to arrive in Vancouver by early afternoon the next day. By the time daylight was beginning to make its way through the mountains, we were into a full-on delirium. Jokes that aren’t funny were the funniest things we had ever heard. During this point in the trip, I stated to my friend that if a moose comes out on the road, the safest thing to do is to floor it and drive through the moose as fast as possible. This was the worst and most bizarre idea he had ever heard and became a running joke for the next five years. We actually had to pull over the car to the side of the highway because we were laughing so hard that we couldn’t keep the car moving in a straight line. Again – not actually a very funny thing to say now, but at the time it was HILARIOUS.
That’s the thing about road trips – you get so crazy being trapped in that small space that memories and inside jokes are invented all the time.
Like the time I drove to the fiance’s grandparent’s, when I met his brother for the first time and he puked out the side of the car. For Christmas, myself, the fiancé, his Mom and his Brother were driving the 4 hours in -40 through rural Alberta. Now, the day began early and the Brother was recovering from a work Christmas party the night before. “Hi Brad, I’m Stephanie, nice to meet you.” “uhhhh…. Hi…” He fell asleep in the car, only to awake an hour later with the urge to throw up. His mom pulled over the car so that he could let it out. I was still trying to make a good impression, so I didn’t laugh too hard at that point, but inside I as dying it was so hilarious. Nothing like first impressions. And I have totally made fun of him for it since. Nothing is funny like puking in awkward scenarios."
- Steph
"Hour 30 something finds us somewhere in the backwoods of Ontario, Wawa a few hours in the rearview mirror. A 3:00am stop that left us with a tank full of gas that had better be powerful enough to justify being 25 cents/litre more expensive than anywhere else we’ve stopped since we left Edmonton, and empty pockets from the gas station’s complete lack of ATM and debit machines. A quick drive through the town teases our hankering for a giant cup of coffee with a brightly lit doughnut shop that doesn’t open for another two hours. The Wall has been looping on the tape deck since Winnipeg, and when the boys leave the car for a quick bathroom break, I jimmy the button that breaks the player. Now I can either admit my deceit and turn back on the Pink Floyd, or accept the strange country techno playing on the only radio station we can pick up.
In the passenger seat, my ears are bleeding from the music, my ass is numb from this many hours of driving with only the most necessary of stops, and my brain is numb from a combination of flashing Canadian scenery and heavy duty medication from having my wisdom teeth pulled only five hours before climbing into the car. Nothing pushes you to keep driving like having your ex-boyfriend of two days stretched across the back seat of your ’89 Oldsmobile. Or in this case, pushes you to keep someone else driving.
And then, just as we’re reaching the end of that thinly clutched shiny strand of consciousness, bright yellow waves of salvation peek over the edge of the horizon. Ah, breakfast, bathrooms, and most importantly coffee. Standing at the brightly coloured counter of straws, napkins, and vats of ketchup, I watch as hands rip packet after packet after packet of sugar to dump into the thick, black sludge that, at this point, is an acceptable substitute for caffeine. Climbing back into the car, the sugar buzz begins to kick in. We pull back onto the long stretch of asphalt cutting through the Canadian Shield. From the driver’s seat, my cousin chuckles “That is the ugliest horse I have ever seen.” I lean forward to look around him at the large, brown animal trudging through the ditch. Over the rim of the coffee cup, my eyes shift between his face and the ‘horse’. “Dude, that’s a moose.”"
- Tanya
Great stories, boyo.
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