Ottawa – USA Trip 2009 Part 2 of 9

Special People in Remote Places
Invitation to Ride
Indians Got Gas

Special People in Remote Places

Half-way between Thunder Bay and the Manitoba border is an attractive small village called Ignace. I camped there at Davey's beautiful campground. The next town on my route was going to be Kenora but since there wasn't much of anything between Ignace and Kenora except wolves, moose, bears, rattlesnakes, porcupines and coyotes, I thought I'd get a good bacon and eggs breakfast at the local diner, right there in the village. It was empty except for an elderly waitress named Wendy. She was very talkative. She told me that she had spent most of her life living and working in Newfoundland before coming to Ignace to be with her daughter who had recently lost her husband. I was taken aback with Wendy's positive outlook on life, and particularly, her good sense of humour. I was wondering whether or not she was like this with all her customers. I became curious. I asked her if she was so obviously happy and outgoing everyday, with everyone, or was it just once in a while. I didn't expect her reply. She said without hesitation, “ Every day and with everyone, ever since my doctor told me that my cancer had gone into remission. I've been given an extra lease on life, one that I didn't expect. From now on, I expect to live every minute of everyday to the fullest. I want to enjoy the rest of my life. I refuse to waste any more time down in the dumps, or feeling sorry for myself. That's why I am, the way I am. WOW! What a strong lady, I thought. I wished her well and got on my way.

Invitation to Ride

I stopped in Kenora to get gas. It’s the last town in Ontario before you get to the Manitoba border. A kid about twenty and his girlfriend riding a custom Harley without fenders stopped beside me and asked if there was anything I needed. That was thoughtful! They said that they were on their way to Calgary and they invited me to ride with them. In the Harley-Davidson motorcycle community, age is irrelevant. Riders are very friendly whether you're sixteen or sixty. I asked them where was all their gear? You know, their tent and sleeping bag and stuff. They said they didn't have any gear. They said all they had was a waterproof tarp that they would lay down in a field to sleep on someplace and then they would move on whenever they woke up. I thanked them for their invitation and said that I would decline this time but I wished them luck on their journey and shook his hand. Young people do that kind of thing over here.

Indians Got Gas

After I got into Manitoba the rain stopped and it was sunny and dry and warm for the remainder of my twenty-four day journey. My son Brad told me later, however, that the rain continued in Ottawa for the entire duration of my journey. But, I didn't know yet how windy it was going to be. My journey through Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta turned out to be exhausting because of heavy and continuous headwinds. They were gale-force winds fighting me all the way to BC. Camper trucks pulling trailers had to pull off the road because their trailers were being blown all over the place. I was almost blown off the road in certain parts of Saskatchewan and Alberta, especially on the exhausting eight hour stretch between Moose Jaw and Calgary. I burned double the normal amount of petrol because half the time I was just trying to stay upright and on the road. At one point in the middle of no-man's land, I had to switch to reserve. Now, I was dangerously low on fuel. There was nothing in sight for miles except for a dirt road that led to an Indian Reservation. Indians have gas. I went to the reservation where I found a small wooden shack run by an old Indian woman. It had a nineteen-fifties' style single gas pump outside. The old woman made me a cup of coffee while I filled my gas-tank. I thanked her and left. After I had driven for about twenty miles I noticed in my mirror that my bandana (around my face and neck) was missing. How stupid of me, I thought! I had to have it because it protected my nose and face against wind-burn and my face was already scarlet in colour. Reluctantly, I turned around and returned to see the old Indian woman in the shack. I asked her if I had left my bandanna there and she said that she hadn't seen it. I looked all over the place including her washroom. As I was leaving, empty handed, she reached-over and put her hands around the back of my neck. She gently pulled out my Bandanna which had slipped down under the collar of my sweater. I felt so stupid. But, she and I had a good laugh about it and she said that she would have saved it for me had I left it behind in her store.