Chapter Nine � Two Trips

 

I had been living in Edmonton for about a year, and the summer was almost upon me. The basement suite I had occupied alone had been occupied by a few different attempts at having roommates, but to limited success. Eventually, an old acquaintance of mine from Welland arrived in town, in search of a new life. We shared the basement suite, until we were given an opportunity to rent the entire house that the basement suite occupied, and we decided to broaden our household. We were both gainfully employed, and he had a new girlfriend within a few months after arriving, so the decision to take over the entire house was forthcoming. As well, since we already enjoyed he location of the house in the city, we decided to jump at the chance. By mid-summer, we had leased the entire house.

            It was my hope that I would be able to work through most of the summer, tattoo on weekends in my home, and enjoy the long weekends. But this was not to be the case. My regular job screen printing hit an extremely busy season, and I did not enjoy any long weekends off as I would have hoped. More often that not, I would have to go to work through the entire weekends, as was the case for most Albertans at the time. Not only was Alberta going through an period of economic prosperity, but a period of high employment, with many jobs available, but not enough people to fill the positions, This left many people working long hours for great pay, but little time off. And, as with my workplace, it was not as though taking any time off would help the workload, as the work would only continue to pile up, as there would not be enough people to complete the work in a timely manner without long hours and no days off. This was when the city became Deadmonton to me: a large city of a million people with nothing to do except work. And since everyone was busy working, there was nothing to do. It had become a city enslaved to its workplaces and wage slaves, no matter how good the pay might be. In the end, it simply left me tired with not the most enjoyable summer as I had hoped for.

            This was not to say that the summer was not without events that were note-worthy. I did get a chance to take at least two decent road trips, and there began the lure of the west for me. I had an opportunity to go for a drive with a couple close friends at the time and take a trip to Banff, cruising through Canmore and stopping quickly at Lake Louise. I cannot begin to describe to you the majestic beauty that is the Rocky Mountains! I had been told by many friends that had seen the Rockies how magnificent they were, but had made my assumptions of how they would appear based on textbooks and photographs. I had no idea. Gigantic, blue-white firmaments that reach towards the heavens and touch the clouds loomed over me from dizzying heights that were immeasurable by metres or miles. Ever-present, they stood on guard against the horizon, and stood sentry over all that their view commanded. Canmore was a lovely little town literally nestled in the mountains, and I thought I had found a paradise little town where one would have to be awestruck every morning to leave their homes and see a mountain looming above them from every angle their eyes scanned the surroundings. Even the prairie dog that quickly popped its head up from the dirt beside the 7-11 located in town knew it was in the presence of omniscience, when it glanced at the mountains beyond before disappearing down its hole at the arrival of car to the parking lot. It was awesome. Arriving in Lake Louise, we found the château that is a famous hotel located there, that I had seen in a picture before leaving for Alberta. I had said at that time that I would see the hotel some day, and here I was now before it, in view of the most beautiful place I have ever seen in Canada to date. A sapphire-blue lake dazzled and reflected the majestic mountains in its watery mirror. Breathtaking natural beauty that is virtually unspoiled, except the château and few nature trails there, were scenic pathways to the heaven on earth that exist in the west. I was dumbfounded at the wonder I seen there, and words and pictures cannot do them justice. See it for yourself.

            My second road trip took me, partially by my choice, to some areas in southern Alberta. The purpose of our trip was not entirely for pleasure. My friend at the time had had some issues with his wife that had caused their separation. It appeared as though it may be a nasty and drawn-out affair between him and his wife and her family over their children, and she had left to stay with her parents in southern Alberta. When she left, she left with the car, and some arrangements had been made for him to come down there and pick it up. A few of us made plans to drive down there in one car, planning to make a couple stops along the way, and then return in two vehicles once my friend had retrieved his car. Our journey took us through Drumheller, famous for its abundance of dinosaur bones and fossils, and to Wayne and Dorothy. Wayne is a town that one must cross a dozen bridges to reach over small winding creeks, to find a population of eleven people. It was located at the dead-end of a regionally highway, and ends in a canyon that is surrounded on three sides. The highlight of Wayne is a tavern and hotel, named the Last Chance Hotel. We stopped here to get some drinks, smoke a joint, and check out the scenery for a few minutes before heading turning back and getting back on the main road. We scouted the area for local flora and fauna, but only fond a few small cactus-like plants with beautiful pink flowers, and a prairie dog that had no interest in us. I really felt as though I were in the Wild West. We turned back, and headed for Dorothy, which had been my choice to se after finding out about it on the internet. Dorothy, as it turns out, is a real ghost town, with buildings and houses still standing there. I do believe there may actually be one or two people there still, but they were not to be seen. Dorothy only had a few buildings in it, including a large grain elevator that stood like a monolith in the prairie, a sentry that stood guard to an empty palace until it had become empty itself, and two tiny ancient churches, both side by side. The churches were in abandoned, and had not been in use in easily decades, but were much older than that. We lingered here a while, and I felt slight melancholy at a community that had once had hopes and dreams and life, and now stood silent along the lonesome highway. We ventured on down the road, after a while, and arrived at our last stop before taking the last leg of our trip, a deep ravine, called Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump. This ravine was one of many across southern Alberta where the many Native tribes had once hunted bison, running them into these ravines to death below. I imagined great fields of these bison and Natives ruling this vast land before the rest of the world came crashing in, and now all that is left is exotic names of places and ghosts of things that once were.

            We arrived at our destination, which was a town called Fort MacLeod. We did not tarry here long, but did stop for a quick drink in tavern, where I was able to smoke in the bar, which was the last time I have been able to do this anywhere since the planet decided its taverns should be smoke-free. We retrieved his car that evening, and returned to Edmonton a few hours later, tired, but our mission accomplished.

            The rest of the summer was as before: work all day, every day, try to tattoo where I could (which wasn’t as often as I should have) and come home to my couch. My finances were in order and I was saving up quite a bit of money. I had also furnished my home to my tastes and was happy with it. Things were well and I had no complaints. But something was missing, and I felt incomplete. The road trips I had taken that summer had illustrated to me the vastness and immensity of this world, and I began to feel stuck where I was, and going nowhere.