Thursday, wait for the evening, 5:45 I begin my trip.
I'm off to see my father, daughter in Edmonton, and I'm driving at night, this to be the Honda CRV's swan song, it's final run before the wreckers, I've stocked up with 5 litres of oil, grabbed a couple of sleeping bags, the clothes I'm wearing and I'm off.
Did I forget anything?
Nevermind, if I did it can be acquired on the road.
The journey, slow, the three gears of fury are being taxed to the limit, fortunately traffic is light and I'm not pulling over too-too often to let people pass. By 8:00 PM I'm in Creston. This is how to measure the trip, count the small towns, next stop, Cranbrook, should be there between 9:30 and 10:00, only...
In the middle of the road, before Yahk, a lady waving frantically, I pull over - a Car accident? She needs my phone, needs to dial 911, I have to dial it, hand her the phone.
The story comes out. She's with her adult son, they were living up the road, in a trailer, they were supposed to be moving out today, her sister went to get some water an hour ago, disappeared, never returned, the landlord came round, they heard shots, he was screaming, a lunatic, he'd tried to rape her, she didn't feel she should have to pay rent after that...
She's on 911, with the operator, they don't have the resources to send out an officer right away, right now...
It's tedious, this, beside the road, middle of the night, hazards on, trying to be helpful, she's dramatic, for sure, who wouldn't be when your rapist landlord has just shot your sister? But I've known enough of these folk, the off-the-grid freeloaders, to know that things are rarely as they're told to you...
Eventually I'm free...half an hour lost to this "emergency", but I watch the paper the next few days, you'd think something like this would make the news, but it doesn't...
Onward, to Yahk, Moyie, past Moyie a high velocity splatter across the highway, a dead bear, big, lies crumpled beside the road.
On, towards Cranbrook, Elk waiting in the bushes to cross, or simply lit up in the headlights, there's no slowing down, hit an elk at this speed, well, could break a rib, maybe, probably not, probably the car would take the brunt and the Elk would walk it off.
Cranbrook, coffee, then on, now Fernie, then Sparwood, then Crowsnest Pass, another coffee, fill it up with the cheap Alberta Gas, it's 2:00 AM.
From here up the 22X, thick fog, thick even at 60KM an hour, no visibility, more elk, a couple of coyotes or headlights, eyes reflecting from the ditch, onward ho...
By 5:00 AM I'm entering Calgary, find a place in a Wal-Mart parking lot to curl up and sleep...
A note, I could have brought a sweater, the ride, in the wee hours, cold, the window open, unable to be closed, a disadvantage on the road, I wasn't thinking...
***
6:00 AM and the Wal-Mart parking lot is filling up, trucks coming with deliveries, time to move....find another street, maybe another hours sleep, then coffee, check a couple of thrift shops for a coat or sweater, no luck....
Something new on the idiot lights on the dashboard...my "check battery" light. This can't be good. Nevermind, time now to rent a car and get to Edmonton.
***
Some sort of mid-sized Mitsubishi, $50 per day, decline the insurance at $30 per day, this will be my ticket, and I'm on the road again with close to 2 hours sleep, the highway, entering onto the Deerfoot, it's like a scene from Fury Road, cards merging at 120 KM per hour, I'm unused to this, having to gun the car, get up to speed, I don't know what speed is, I've forgotten, the only speed I've caught is coming down the passes in neutral at 100 KM per hour, any faster and the car begins to shake, tap on the brakes and the Honda feels as if it's going to fall apart, shudder itself into oblivion...now, I'm forced to slam the gas, weave, dodge traffic, what are the rules? One handspan per every 10 KM/hour, cars keeping a yards length from the one in front of them, what is this? If there were an accident, and there's no shortage of lunatics, it wouldn't be one car, it'd be a dozen, and trying to keep a reasonable distance from everyone only brings up rage on my ass in an F150 that flies past with a shaking of a fist and blast on the horn...
***
Red Deer. Check a couple of thrift shops, nothing. Lunch at Mickey D's.
Then onward.
***
Edmonton, check the radio, 100 stations and nothing to listen to. Downtown, there's a new high-rise built in the city center that somehow, with the buildings stacked behind it, looks like a middle finger extended...
***
I've arrived. Dinner at Bistro with the daughter, we catch up. Share a Tartar, Schnitzel, Crepe.
The food, delicious, the ambiance, perfect. Chat to Milan, the owner, it's good to see him, he's older, much, but then aren't we all?
***
The daughter wants a crib board. Apparently it's the game when tree planting, and I'm going to have to teach her, because nobody can be bothered to teach a rookie. You know or you don't. We find the crib board, eventually, at a Wal-Mart, then head over to my Fathers.
My dad, pleasantly surprised, we catch up, visit, I begin teaching Eve the rudiments of Crib.
***
Saturday we've a few errands. I want to hit a few thrift shops, this, boring for my Father, but - as one who lives far from the city, I welcome the chance to replenish my wardrobe, time for some fall fashion...
But there's nothing, and all the thrift shops here have gone up so much in price, $12, $15 for a pair of jeans, $18, $20 for a shirt, and I'm cautious, I've been spending money like water lately and I don't have a job, there's been dinner, gas, dentist, hotels, and I've yet to check my credit card statement but dimes-to-dollars the news will be grim....
Bookstores as well are on the list, and we do well, hit the Wee Book Inn on Whyte Ave and hit a jackpot of sorts, "The Manuscript found in Saragossa", by Jan Potocki, and you'll recall my enthusiasm for the film adaptation, this, then, will be a treat, and a few other books, Dylan Thomas's "Under Milkwood" for the daughter, one day, after I die, they'll get around to reading them all...
...and there were other books, several esoteric, by Crowley and Others, that were my pockets a little deeper I'd acquire, not cheap, but a pile of inspiration and more reasons to return....
Whyte Avenue, the face of blight, shops closed due to roadworks, Black Dog Pub, closed since the Pandemic, the Army & Navy since years before, empty shopfronts luring no-one to come and spend money....
Lunch at the Bulgogi House near Bonnie Doon, I'd fond memories from decades before, they were rather let down, perhaps memory, but I recalled a spicy tentacled squid that didn't even slightly resemble the one on the menu....
From here to Dad's place, teach the daughter Crib and Trash Talking, then to dinner at the Keg.
The Keg, not my choice, but surprisingly busy, affordable, most steaks under $50, the daughter and I split an 18 oz Prime Rib, done to perfection. The food is good, the service, good, but so scripted as to be painful, the forced jollity and "at your service", the patter on the Bartenders Cocktail Convention, the specials, it's all bollocks, give me a grouchy old-school waiter any day of the week...
***
And home and more crib and the daughter, she's picking it up...
***
Sunday and time to begin the drive home. It's been a whirlwind visit, but it's time - all summer work has delayed life, and now social obligations, and - now, the uncertainty of the car, the hemmoraging of cash, it's time to get to Foon and make a plan.
Backroads, through Camrose, a customer at the restaurant wanted me to stop by for drinks, I text, wait half an hour and then grateful for the reprieve from socializing continue on. Stettler, listening to podcasts via my phone, an interesting one on Cosmology, the implications of an infinite Universe in Time and or Space, VS a bounded Universe, this gets me thinking, and it's good...
The day, cold, blue sky, windy, past hummocks and hills, dales, little alkali ponds dried up and peppered with rocks that were my mood different, were time elastic I should be getting out to explore, photographs, a cold, wintry day, I should be stopping to take pictures, an old grave on an island in a dried up slough, others...
To and through Drumheller, Horseshoe Canyon, considering a walk into the badlands, but I'm not inspired, not today....
Then Calgary. Stop at the Value Village, North East, it's apocalyptic, filled with every variety of crackhead, people trying on clothing and throwing it into the aisles, the aisles, floors, filled with discards they couldn't be bothered to replace, a trans guy, only half committed, trying on his "professional" or working dresses, over his shoulder, into the aisle, I give up, this is too depressing...
The day, my mood, time to leave, move on, down to 4th Street to meet the Son, have a drink, bite to eat, it's a dire sports pub, time to go, return the rental car and head to the locker.
The battery light is still on.
This is concerning.
It's dark, there's no seeing inside the locker, and my Son warned me, it was in a state, and it was, boxes jumbled not piled, it would take an hour or two in daylight to find and free anything I wanted, not tonight, I angle the headlights into the locker, grab the first box I see, church candlesticks, adjustable height, this is all I can afford to take this trip.
This, because the last thing I want is to be marooned by the side of the road with a chest of drawers or two, there'd be no likelihood of me catching a ride...take no more than I can carry...
I've checked, Mountain Man Mike's has a bus to Nelson leaving Tuesday morning, but I can't wait, I want out of Dodge, Calgary, ASAP, I hate this place...
Then, disappointed I get onto the Calgary Trail and begin my fleeing of town.
Only a few KM away and there's this loud farting noise, as if from the back of the car, and I'm wondering if a homeless person has crashed in the back, I should have checked, and then all the idiot lights go off on the dashboard, it's a disco, no, now it's black, the car without power, and I'm fortunate that I can coast down the hill, angle off the Calgary Trail, onto Mission Road, where I call the BCAA...
Waiting, waiting, emptying the car of rocks, a little cache of pegmatite and calcite and quartz left beside a construction site for an eagle eyed rock-hounder....
There's still too much shit in the car, and I'm annoyed, I'm not replacing the alternator, the car, it's done, and I've left too much behind in it, I should have lightened my load, this is ridiculous, 2 lockers, a car full of trash, and now, marooned...
The tow truck arrives, I try and start the car, it turns over briefly, then dead. This tells me it's the alternator. The wreckers are all closed, and so we have it towed to the Southland Wal-Mart. I call the son for a pick-up, he'll let me crash at his place for the night...
His place, a basement suite off of 4th St, on 18th Ave, a slum landlord, smells of piss, a cowboy renovation that basically painted over cobwebs, lino laid over a dirt floor, a "living room", kitchen, door from which opens into toilet, then hall to shower, then into bedroom. "Open Concept", meaning no doors.
It's abysmal, but such is the rental market in Calgary at the moment.
I notice, though, the familiar things he's gathered from the locker to make himself comfortable, a candelabra (mine), a ton of books (mine), chair (mine)...
I'm glad someone's enjoying them.
The son's off, places to go, people to meet, and I'm left to Google quick alternator fixes on YouTube.
Hope springs eternal.
And I find two backyard mechanics with widely different theories, never-mind I'll try them both. One of them advises filling the Alternator with WD40, fill it right up. And the other recommends banging it with a wrench.
These are both perfectly suited to my skill level.
***
Monday morning, up early to find coffee, try my "repairs" out on the Honda.
Head down to Banker's hall, I find no open cafe's on my way, and am forced to drink Starbucks. Sit and people watch. City folk with fancy jobs, big budgets, a few of those puffy Vancouver lips...
Go to the bank, get funds, stroll through the towers to the West of Banker's Hall, the wide atriums with "modern" furniture, the comfortable cafe's and boutiques that pander to the tenants, much quieter than Banker's Hall, more serious. Beautiful spaces, like churches made into mazes, with widely spaced tables over multiple levels where Men in Suits talk quietly, in hushed tones, of Trust Funds, of Hedge Funds, of Variable Fixed Rate Mortgages, Interest Rates...
I'm struck by how reverential the air is here, how quiet, how hallowed these halls are, outside the atriums you can see the homeless pushing their shopping carts, in here there are the invisible maintenance people, uniforms designed to make them invisible, cleaning, dusting, security, concierge, they check me out, that you see no homeless people in here is no accident, they can see through the windows, but they're not allowed...this, the hub of commerce, it's Calgary's Church, the new religion, Salvation for those with the right amount of money in the bank, and these men in suits with their laptops and briefcases, they're the clergy...
Find the C-Train, down to Southland...
I try my fix, both of them, can of WD40 in, bang on alternator with wrench, try to start, but the battery's dead.
Call the BCAA, I need a boost, and while waiting I empty the car more of rocks, keeping some, discarding others, I'm a little fussier now I can see them, keeping the crystals, but throwing some bones onto the grass, more pegmatite, this with a good chunk of Black Tourmaline, Smokey Quartz, this with a streak of blue aquamarine, if you know rocks head on down to the lawn at the Southland Wal-Mart, there's some good ones.
Help arrives, asks the problem, I explain the alternator, get the boost, and he tells me that the Alternator is putting out just fine, and I can't believe it, can't believe this worked...
***
Off now, back to the boys, recover my shit, load up the car and head out, backroads to Bragg Creek, Turner Valley, Black Diamond, they've renamed the area "Diamond Valley", but only changed a few of the signs, work it out, get lost on the backroads of Lower Springbank, marvel at the McMansions, grown 10X over the past 10 years, houses of 30, 40, 50, 000 square feet, obscene, hideous, plopped amongst manufactured meadows and ponds, the obscenely nouveau riche, hidden here far from the shopping carts and economic Armageddon that's swarming downtown, onward ho...
My car, the boost, it seemed to be the fix to all problems, all the idiot lights are off, and I'm thinking "Miracle", but I'm not so confident that I'd try 4th gear...
Eventually through Bragg Creek, then to Diamond Valley, keeping it off the main highway, the long way around for sure...
Visit the curiosity shop in Diamond Valley, some interesting arrangements of found objects, skulls after my taste if only I had the space...
On towards Crowsnest, and from here fill up with the last of the cheap Alberta Gas, then onward, to Fernie, stop for dinner, and to Cranbrook, then Creston, it's raining, pouring, and I'm cautious, to hell with it, it can't be snowing up on the pass, and so over I go and I'm in luck..
11:30, too late for the liquor store, another 12 hours on the road and I'm home and the Alternator, it's holding up just fine, and now, time to order my life and get my shit sorted...