I decided recently to visit a friend who lives over 1,000 kilometres away. I kept thinking that as soon as I knew what days would work "presto" I would use Airmiles and take a couple of flights to get to where I wanted fairly toot sweet. Life sped by a little too fast, and by the time I knew a timeframe, it was too late to use the trove of Airmiles. Multiple texts later, a plan came to me--just drive there. I don't know why the thought popped so freely into my mind. I had never until this point ever driven longer than five hours anywhere by myself. I have done many long road trips in the company of others, and swore I would never do it again. Not because I didn't enjoy the company. I hated the monotony of sitting in a vehicle for hours at a time to get where I wanted to go. I didn't subscribe to the motto about it being about the journey, and not the destination. To me it was all about the destination! Get where I want to go--now! I admit I had darker feelings about attempting a long solo drive. I unfortunately retain memories of car crashes along the route I would be driving on. I know how easy it would be for me, or any other driver on the road to experience a lapse in concentration. Just the week prior to my adventure there was a crash less than two hours down the road, during daylight hours and good road conditions. Someone crossed the centre line and collided with someone else. End of person in the smaller vehicle. I have a smaller vehicle. I believe that any kind of force would probably make said vehicle squash like an unwanted beer can. Nonetheless, it was decided. I was going to do this (or die, or chicken out and turn around) I try to be optimistic, but still had niggles in my mind about what I was going to attempt. D-day (Driving, that is) arrived. I had my stuff ready to go, so I just made one quick pit stop and took off. The first hour or so was fairly familiar territory. Once I was driving out of Houston towards Topley, it started to feel like an adventure was upon me. I had the music going--louder than usual--I might add, because it was just me, no one else to complain about volume or what song was belting out of the speakers. Lucky for me it was sunny and the roads looked pretty good. I drove uneventfully for a while longer, before noticing oops, the gas gauge was inching towards E. Anyone who knows me, also knows I am anal about keeping the gas at a higher than empty level (fear of running out of gas). Approaching Fraser Lake, I decide that the needle is getting too cozy to that letter E, so pull in for gas.
Doing the whole prepay thing, I decide to go for sixty bucks. Small tank, but if it's empty--maybe. The lady at the register kind of laughs and asks me if I'm sure. I figure it must be bone dry, so assure her that sixty should be close enough. Head back out the pumps. It's flowing in, over forty, hitting fifty, and then a moment later cuts out. I look at the litres--just over 37, and its a 45 litre tank. Thanks gas gauge, you make me feel like an idiot. I probably could have gone for another hour or so on what was left. Oh well, back inside for my change. The lady chuckles, "Didn't think it was going to take sixty," she says. Okay--haha, now gimmee my change, I think. Back out on the road.
Finally hit Prince George mid-way through lunch hour. Traffic moving way too f--cking fast around me going into the city. I brake hard on the hill going down to the traffic light. Oops, Check Engine light comes on. No where to stop even if I wanted too. Concentrate on getting through PG in one piece. Turn too soon and end up in a hotel parking lot. Turn around and get where I want to be. Bye, Prince George, see ya on the way back. The stupid engine light is still on, but no smell, no overheating, everything seems right, so to hell with it, I keep going.
Now I have ideas in my head about how long all of this should take, but I think I must not have remembered correctly, or driven with a speed demon, cause I am thinking okay, only a couple more hours until my next turn-off point. Wrong. I will now state here. It takes me three hours to drive from Prince George to Williams Lake, not an hour and a half or two hours like I figured. It was after 5 PM before I got to Clinton, and my next gas stop. Again my little black box on wheels made a liar of me. I decided to say fifty this time. It stopped at $43.75, yay! More change. Onwards to Cache Creek!
Made the simple turn at Cache Creek. Drove along an unfamiliar stretch of road leading to Savona and ultimately Kamloops. Despite the fact the road was busy going through Kamloops, I just followed directional signs and stayed in the THRU traffic lane. Soon I see signs for an exit to Vernon. That's for me! I exit with no fuss and down a much quieter stretch of highway. The towns I pass through are small, and the road is windy. I pass through the village (I guess) of Falkland. As I drive through at the the required 50km/h, I see a billboard proclaiming they have a BEER ATM! Now if I wasn't on my way to somewhere like right now, I would have stopped to investigate what a beer ATM was.
It was now fairly dark and I enter Vernon. I like that it is made easy for through traffic to navigate. Just stay on the main drag and you're outta there. It starts to rain just as I see a sign for Oyama. Now I know I am getting close. Of course, that's when my temperamental driver side windshield wiper decides its had enough of wiping. F--ck it, I think and stay in the slow lane. Not much longer and I see signs for YLW. Yay, that was my entry point last time I visited. Then I got lost. I drove all that way to waste a lot of time not knowing where the hell I had to go next. Luckily I got rescued, but I made it. I did a 12+hour drive all by my lonesome.
The return trip was almost in reverse, except instead of going north, I headed west out of town via Merritt, skirted around Kamloops and back the way I came in the days previous. I had more confidence on the return trip, but was still wary. It amazes even me the way the story about the ambulance crash in Hixon, two years previously started running through my head as I passed the hospital in Quesnel. I kept thinking about how the poor woman's time was up. She had been in a car accident the day previously, and the next day was in an ambulance north bound to the larger hospital in Prince George. The news reported that the ambulance was in a collision near Hixon, and that everyone in the ambulance, except the patient was okay. The woman died. I couldn't help but shudder a little the whole way from Quesnel to Prince George. I amazed myself by still feeling up to it to finish the last leg of the drive from PG to Smithers. Pit stop at the Vanderhoof Timmy's for me, and a pit stop again at Fraser Lake for the car. The last hour or so was in the dark, but seeing that it was familiar territory I felt okay. I remember rolling down the hill and crossing the bridge over the Bulkley River. Yep, I made it there and back, without any real incident.
The engine light went off once I got to Kelowna, and it hasn't come back on since, so I totally consider it to be a non-event. (I think the hard braking on the hill from highway speed was what did it!)
So, I learned that I can handle a long, solo road trip. I will likely always be wary, but maybe that helps too.
Does it mean I want to go on another road trip? Hell no, at least not for a long while.
Not sure where my next destination will be, but I hope it's somewhere that has an airport!
