Notes from a messy desk…
Ah, July… the traditional vacation time from work and school that prompts countless memorable road trips. The summer solstice has passed, and for many there’s a sense of urgency to “get gone”, excitement at the prospect of hitting the open road after a winter that held a big grudge against spring. Let the packing up and piling in commence!
Who doesn’t have a tale to tell about being jammed in the back seat of a vehicle alongside sweaty siblings, friends, or family pets on a sweltering day when the air conditioning couldn’t keep up – or was nonexistent?
Or memories of no-tech road trip games? “I spy something green.”….”No fair, everything is green!” Some kids watched for Volkswagen Beetles: “Punch bug!”….”Oww!”
We counted horses, cattle, semi trucks, red cars, blue cars, endless railway cars, and that one herd of llamas. Or were they alpacas?
Maybe the whole sardined carload of you sang fun songs together. My sister and I liked to entertain our parents with “Frere Jacques” (butchered terribly with our Anglais accents) and “Row, row, row your boat”… merrily down a gentle stream where life was but a road trip dream.
For a few miles anyway, until my requests to give a solo performance were soundly vetoed. I can’t imagine why. I mean, who wouldn’t appreciate a rendition of the original tune “Baby, baby, please don’t cut my hair”? Oh well. Their loss.
On the motoring front, I recently adventured out with a friend. We made it all the way from Prince Albert to Rosthern, Saskatchewan and back, a full 150 kilometers round trip. And guess what? It was awesome!! And I almost never utter that overused term. Or employ double exclamation points.
Why, you may ask, was the trip to Rosthern awesome? Okay, I’ll tell you.
(1) The excursion was unplanned, completely spontaneous, organically sprouted that very Sunday morning, creating anticipation from the get go.
(2) The weather was perfectimundo. A few puffy clouds shape-shifting in a blue prairie sky, and just enough breeze to set the leaves of roadside poplars dancing. No snow, ice, sleet, hail, or early darkness looming. What a treat!
(3) Speaking of treats, there are places in and near P.A. that create magnificent ice cream masterpieces, although you must be prepared to wait in line. We tracked down one such luscious lickery and – miracles do happen! – found outdoor seating with no mosquitos. Slurp. Crunch. Yum!
(4) Having come through a season of concerning health symptoms, I’d had them checked out and discovered my worries were unfounded. It wasn’t until I got the all clear and felt the relief of a burden being lifted that I realized I’d been carrying one. The doctor’s parting words to me were “Go find a hill and meditate.” What my body heard was “It’s okay to let go of the worry now. Oh, and remember to breathe.”
I figure a mini mountain of ice cream with caramel sauce, fudgy pieces and crunchy chocolate crumbles might be the next best thing to mountain top meditation a Saskatchewan summer has to offer.
A little jaunt out of town for a Sunday sundae may not qualify as a holiday road trip. Or perhaps it does. All I know is it felt like one, as surely as a camper van trek to Vancouver Island or a motorcycle tour of the Niagara Peninsula.
It doesn’t always take a wise old bearded yogi to convince a person that the journey is as meaningful as the destination.
Maybe even more so.
Lorna Blakeney is an avid writer who enjoys photography, history, travel, and genealogy. She was born and raised in Prince Albert, earned a B.A. from the University of Saskatchewan, likes to walk, and loves coffee shops. Her column appears the first Friday of every month.
