Pat From Seattle and The Hardest Part – North Van to Golden to Calgary to Regina To Winnipeg to Thunder Bay – ECSTATICALLY ALONE TOUR

This picture was taken at the very top of a mountain, at the gorgeous (as you can well see) Kootenay Valley Lookout Point in Kootenay National Park, by a woman named Pat, who was in the middle of a drive from Seattle to Calgary, in her Hyundai Sonata.
Pat was on the way to see her newly born granddaughter.
Pat is a 72 year old retired nurse who is afraid to fly, is afraid to do anything alone really (so she told me) but really, really, really wanted to see her granddaughter something awful and has found herself standing with me at the top of a mountain.
I was standing pretty much exactly where I was in this picture, fiddling with my IPHONE to set it up for a selfie, when Pat exploded from her car like a sunburst, asking me if I wanted her to take my picture.
In this situation, my controlling self usually smiles and says

Me: I love taking a selfie! But thank you.

But there was just something about this moment, about this woman, that made me thank her, and hand her my phone.
As she figured out my phone, she said

She: Are you traveling alone!!?!

To which I, again, usually answer NO, that someone is just behind me, and I’m here waiting for them to catch up, but this time, I said

Me: Yes, yes, I am.

Then Pat told me her story.
A retired nurse from Seattle, a mother to a man who lives in Calgary with his wife who is a scientist, Pat confessed she’d NEVER have done anything like this trip in her life…and found herself now, unabashedly and more than a bit fearfully, doing this thing.

She: Did you just drive through those mountains behind us?!?!?

Me (laughs out loud at her stricken expression): I sure did. It was something, huh?

She: I cannot drive back that way. That was fucking terrifying.There’s gotta be another way back.

Me: Well, I guess Pat, you could leave Calgary, just keep driving south till there are no mountains and take the REALLY long way around….from Mexico. You could make a real fucking meal of it.

Pat paused, and then laughed.
Then we both laughed in the community of our similar, shared experience.

She: You did this trip….on PURPOSE!?!? For the fun of it!?!?

It was my turn to pause, then laugh.
We both laughed together again.

Me: Yes, I did. I drive like this would have really scared me once…not anymore, though. I’m loving it.

She: Well, maybe there’s hope for me, yet.

She took my picture.
I took hers.
This shadow, is Pat.
She photobombed me.
I don’t think she realized…but I am glad she did.

It was at this point that Pat and I spied a small child, who was not being watched by her mother, VERY QUICKLY and SUDDENLY scale the stone barrier fence that I’m leaning against in the picture.

Shocked, as if cold water had been thrown over our heads, we both yelled and ran towards the child, arms out…Pat got to her first.
Pat was fast as fuck.
The mother, very embarrassed and thankful, scooped up the child from Pat and ran towards her car, to exit this scary moment.

Pat and I stood looking after her as she drove away in a cloud of gravel dust.

She: God, that happened so fast. My nurse instincts kicked right in, huh? Wow.

Me: That was scary. Fuck. You are badass, Pat. These mountains got NOTHING on you. That new granddaughter is lucky you are braving these fucking mountains, right?

She paused and the guffawed, as was the brand of our new comedy act.
And though we did not know one another at all, we shook hands as we parted ways.
Not very COVID friendly, but I sanitized after.
AS I drove away, I rolled down my window (I love that I will still forever say “rolled” even when I hold my finger on a button), I wished her a safe journey and congratulated her on her granchild.
She wished me a safe journey, too…and couldn’t say much else about my journey, because I didn’t really say anything about it.
I’d spent our time together listening to HER story. She spent our time together telling me her story and saving a human life.
Well.
Sometimes, people want to tell you their story, and because I’ve spent a life time talking onstage, I enjoy listening.
Which is one of the reasons that I write on here, I think?
NO…I know that is one of the reasons.
It’s comforting to have a witness, or witnesses to a grand adventure, if only to prove to yourself that, YEAH I’m doing this, and then later, YES, I did this thing.
Sometimes the grand adventure is getting through a particularly hard day, sometimes the grand adventure is an almost 10,000km drive to the Pacific Ocean, sometimes it’s doing something you never expected to do at the age of 72 and white knuckling it all the way…and then saving a human.
Life is funny that way.

Seeing Pat reminded me just how audacious this trip is, at the exact time I needed to be reminded.

Also, and here is a thought I’ve been trying not to ponder TOO in depth, what if Pat had not been there to scoop that kid up and I did not make it in time?

Shit. Thank god Pat made that drive.

There are markers everywhere that you are on the exact right path, even if you are freaking out on said path, we just have to be open to them. Thanks, Pat.

I do wonder what way she took home.

I’d never been to the Kootenay’s and, quite honestly, had not planned on hitting them this trip, but all the way from Kamloops to Golden, BC, every LED traffic sign announced that there was a detour on the TransCanada after Golden.
The mere mention of a detour in the Rockies in November, even with the weather being agreeable, kinda gave me a knot in my stomach the size of a moose.
Yes. I said a moose because I didn’t want to run into one while I was driving…physically or spiritually.

For the whole trip, I’d been putting my worries about driving back through the PANIC-YELLOW-SIGN infested Rocky Mountains, in November, into a little compartment inside marked,

THINK ABOUT THIS WHEN IT COMES, Matthews.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been monitoring the weather through the mountains, and when I saw it was going to be highly agreeable up there for a few days, just after a fairly decent cold snap and snow fall, I canceled my trip to Victoria to visit friends, and booked the ferry back to Vancouver.
One must be realistic and cautious in this sort of driving situation, right?
Oh!
And the ferry back was a beautiful breeze, FYI, THE TINY WHALING BOAT HAS GIVEN ME WINGS ON THE WATER, Y’ALL.
Wings that are operated wearing Sea Bands and an anit-puke patch, with a side of just-in-case Gravol, but wings all the same, so they count.
THEY TOTALLY FUCKING COUNT.

The drive back through the mountains was…well, spectacular.

I use that word a lot to describe the views I’ve seen on this trip…because…well, it’s fucking true.
I was talking to my therapist a few days ago, while in my little cottage in Tofino (because taking care of one’s mental health is doable anywhere) and when she asked me what I was learning from my trip, I burst into tears and the first thing I proclaimed was

Me: THIS COUNTRY IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!!

The second thing I proclaimed was

Me: I can really trust myself. I can do things. Big things. Not just work things…but life things. Alone…by myself.

It’s a real feather in my life skills cap…that I’m sure will blow away from time to time, and I will need to find a replacement…but that is life, my people.
And life, as I mentioned earlier…and as I am SURE you also know…is funny.
The point is? I’ve made a spot for that feather to live, the space exists for it to be placed, you know what I mean.
There’s no going back on that.

So, mindful of the SUDDEN weather changes in the mountain (PANIC-YELLOW-SIGN), I barely stopped driving from North Vancouver to Golden, BC.
I’d only planned on going as far as Revelstoke that first day through the mountains…but when I got there, I was feeling strong and cutting another hour off the next day’s drive seemed like a good idea…but the downside was, I was racing the sun.
It was a Mission Impossible situation, during which I made two errors I wish not to repeat.

1. I forgot about the time change…so, I didn’t anticipate the sun going down about 45mins earlier than I thought. I know, right? In the mountains. The PANIC-YELLOW mountains.

2. I departed Revelstoke with a half tank of gas, thinking I had more than enough to make it through.

I know. I KNOW!!!
Now, neither error was fatal, but in retrospect, and also in THENTROSPECT…NOT SMART.
NOT MY SMARTEST MOVES, but I’ve forgiven myself.
This was a challenging drive, too.
Lots of turns, lots of heights, lots of shade into twilight.
I drove under the speed limit and after about 15 minutes into the hour and thirty minute drive between Revelstoke and Golden, I realized that I was driving in tandem with five other cars.
When a passing lane made itself available, none of us passed.
We all drove together at a respectful distance all the way to our goal…which was VERY cool, I gotta tell you.
One of them coulda been a serial killer (not a trucker, though) and I never would have known it, but at that time? They were an inside-their-car-tandem-driving-serial-killer…so, SAFE.
When I pulled over top of the last mountain, spying the valley in which Golden lay, I did a dance in my car…I woo woo’d…I yelled…I shook my fist (one stayed on the wheel, of course) in the air.
I made it, well, half way, at least, to the end of the Rockies.

I laid in my bed that night, in the Day’s Inn by the side of the road, in the little western factory town, the night before I met Pat, I felt the adventure part of my trip slipping away from me.
After my drive to Calgary, and a wonderful side of my friend, Jann, it was homeward bound.

Jann.
Canada’s beloved daughter, and blessedly, my friend.
The best host in the world.
So great a host is she, that I asked if she minded if I stayed one more night.
Thankfully, she said yes.
Jann is one of the most comforting, nurturing human’s around, and being at her home is like being held in a warm hug.
I texted her from my bed the second last morning there

If you want people to leave? You are going to have to make this bed less comfortable. Just sayin’.

And after the last little while alone, I was really wonderful to see a face that I know and that knows me.
Staying with Jann was a dream.
Yes, I slept like a baby.
We walked The Road.
Jann took us to a wonderful place called The Alice Sanctuary where I met Janneane (who founded and runs the not-for-profit sanctuary), and saw and petted and talked to one hundred animals!
Follow them on INSTAGRAM @thealicesanctuary…and also on my INSTAGRAM are all the pictures of our visit!

We got under blankets at night, watching Private Benjamin (really still holds up) and a movie called Old Henry (I liked it).
I got to spend time with not only Jann but her friends Leah and Lisa, who are both a riot, and good people to boot.

Then, four days after I arrived…
….after standing in front of the kitchen window with Jann and Leah, eating toast, watching a stag chase all the female deers who live in Jann’s front yard around the pine trees…
…it was time to go home.
It’s always hard to leave Jann’s house.
It just is.

The last time I left Jann’s house, I was pretty sure I had to end my marriage.
True story.
It was a while ago.
Leaving Jann’s house this time was a WAY happier moment, as Brene Brown says my back is stronger and front is softer.
BUT leaving was still, as always, a bit of a boo hoo.
AND as I drove up Jann’s road, letting go of the adventure part of this trip, was very hard.

The return trip is my nemesis, and has been from the moment I decided to drive myself.
Every single part of it has/had a bit of danger.
The mountain’s and the weather.
The praries and the weather.
Lake Superior and the weather.
All of it, and my road weariness.
It daunted me.
And, as I knew it would, it’s exhausting me.
Calgary to Regina. 7 hours and change.
Regina to Winnipeg. 6 hours.
Stay in Winnipeg for a day and spend time with Ari, who was kind enough to give me 24 pep talks as I sat with him, watched Netflix, ate pizza, laughed with him and petted his new dog, Stritch.
He even read with me on a self tape.
A SELF TAPE…thank god the character was a prisoner. I felt like that look is my jam, right now.
Then, I left Winnipeg and started the final three days of the drive.
The final three days, are three 8 hour drives…which is more than a bit of a feat when you have been out for a month.

Let’s jump forward to today, my second last morning on the road (if all goes as planned).
I’m sitting in a hotel in Thunder Bay, in my bra and underwear, eating yogurt, chia and flax seeds, blue berries all mixed in with one past-it’s-prime banana, remembering the night before, when I sat in the bathtub in the Valhalla Inn, after my first 8 hour drive, weeping and saying OUT LOUD to just me

Me: I miss my people…I miss home…I am lonely…I am tired…I wish this part was over…this part is hard…why’s it gotta be so hard????WHYYYYY!?!? PAT WAS RIGHT!! THERE HAS GOTTA BE A BETTER FUCKING WAY BACK!!!!!

And on and on I went.
I will proclaim HERE what I said to my pal Mike last night on text, trying to shake off the weeping- and-bawling-in-the-tub incident

IT’S THE FINAL PUSH, BIX!! I AM GETTING EMOTIONAL AND REALLY TIRED!!!

IT’S GUT CHECK TIME!!

And it is.

You might think this would be a victory lap, but it’s the end of the race, this is, again, the hard part.
I’m tired.
I’m filled with realizations that I don’t want totally qualify while I’m still in this.
I’m full.
So full.
It’s almost difficult to keep all that I am feeling inside.
And I’m so very grateful.
And loved and love.
And I miss my people.
And I wonder what’s next.

AND I WANT TO MAKE THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT OF MY LIFE!! OF MY CAREER!! OF MY EVERYTHING!!
THERE IS A LOT GOING ON INSIDE!!

I have so many thoughts and ideas running around my head…life ideas, creative ideas…I’ve written them on note paper, in books, on my phone…on here…I will look at them all when I’ve had time to really sleep…
So, yes, there is a lot going on during this wind down, and there is a part of me that is trying to take advantage of this chaos.
The part that tried to get me to turn around at the beginning of the epic journey.
The part that does not want me to be changed by this epic journey.
The part that wants me to not grow and stay the same.
The part that whispers to me that it was not worth it.
The part that tells me nothing has changed.
The part that informs me that I’m still the same person as when I started.
The part that tells me that this was all for naught.
That part of me that’s a dirty liar…the part that doesn’t want to grow.

I am changed.
There is indeed no going back.
Plain and simple.
Just how much and how, remains to be seen…but I can NEVER claim to not be able to do big things.

BOOM.

Also, I’m the same.
I don’t have to go and do to become…I am already me. Perfectly imperfect.
THAT is something I learned, maybe the MOST valuable thing of all.
I didn’t need to go and gather worthiness.
I already have it.
The rest is gravy.
This trip is gravy. And cake. And a new hat. And new sneakers. Its ALL the things that make you all that more excited to be in the world.

BOOM. BOOM.

Today, I drive to Sault Ste Marie.
I’m hopeful that this will be a good day.
I will be going past some of my favourite spots, and it’s supposed to be sunny and warm.
I am, again, hopeful for a good day.
I want to reclaim my joy…so, fuck it, am deciding that it WILL be a good day.

Namaste, Bunnies and Kitties.

Nov 9th, 2021 – S.M.
Thunder Bay, ON

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Thanks for reading! xoxoxo