Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Pack Your Bags

 ["June 9, 7:30 AM. I shift last minute bits and pieces before departing"]

Whenever I pack bags for a road trip I think of my mother Edith who passed away in 2000. I recall a memorable conversation we had many years ago about a unique aspect of anticipation. I cannot recall the exact context - I wish I could - but one of us must have been preparing for a journey of some kind and we got talking about it in her kitchen.

"I enjoy the anticipation related to a trip almost as much as the trip itself," she said.

I likely shrugged, but listened.

She went on to explain that she would think about an upcoming adventure for a long time and make lengthy and detailed preparations in some cases. She enjoyed each single day as the trip or 'the big day' approached (I recall she referred to school holidays and Christmas time) and she described to me the extent of the excitement she felt. 'As excited as a schoolgirl' now springs to mind, as well as the thought that the pure quality of her anticipation (I bet she could almost reach out and touch it) must have turned the time before a trip into an actual event - equal or almost equal in enjoyment to the trip or 'big day' itself.

["Schoolgirl Edith (centre) with big smile. It's a big day!"]

In June, as I made my own preparations for a trip to Canada's East Coast I thought of that conversation again... for the umpteenth time. Oh, I get what she was talking about now.

["Where, when, how far - all figured out"]

I call the days before a trip 'prep time' or 'prep work' and I get buzzing around the house like nobody's business. I make several lists, collect supplies, (and if it's a motorcycle trip) arrange saddle bags on the floor of my study, pack them tightly, give them a shake and then squeeze something else into wee spaces that open up. I thumb through the best maps I can find, plan the best routes, decide on Plan Bs, create daily itineraries, contact planned destinations ahead of time (e.g., museum or library archive staff), ask a few questions to keep them busy, line up accommodations, make a list of where I'll be for my wife, think of places to go and people to see and - every once in awhile -  stand up straight to sniff and taste the air around me. Oh yeah, I love looking forward to and getting ready for a good trip!

["I can squeeze one more Mr. Noodle soup in there!"]

After a particularly rugged and demanding canoe trip on North Tea Lake in Algonquin Park (circa 1990) I wrote a few notes to help me preserve memories of high adventure. And the very first thoughts I jotted down related to the prep work and the excitement I felt in the hurried days leading up to departure. I entitled those few sentences about packing my bags - an event in its own way - 'anticipation'. (Was that a reference to my mother's words twenty or more years earlier? I do not know, but I at least knew what she had been feeling and trying to express at the time).

* * * * *

anticipation

gotta hit the johnny cash

gotta hit the road  

with a heavy nylon backpack -

every pocket full

tightly zippered shut

stashing plastic jars

spices, syrup, porridge,

rice, pop-tarts, and pasta

hungry-man size only

five day supply

gotta hit the johnny cash

gotta hit the road

with a twelve foot canoe of cedar -

both ends snugged down

yellow nylon lines

honda stuffed front and back

pointing north to Sundridge

adventure at North Tea awaits

five hours to Algonquin

money quick at johnny cash

gotta hit the road

gah

* * * * * 

On June 9, after covering the first 500 kilometres of my 18-day-long trip, I wrote a few notes while waiting for supper at The Kingston Brewing Company. I believe they fit here.

I write that during the trip I not only 'enjoy the ride' (the Canadian scenery, and the 'looking forward' to an upcoming hike along the Atlantic coast) but enjoy 'the work of the ride', i.e., 'the planning (and) the muscling of metal to get from London to Kingston in one piece'. Planning, prep time and anticipation seem to go together in my mind now as much as the daily physical work associated with riding down the highway.

Surely I will take more trips in the future. (Actually, my list is quite long). And while packing my bags I will again feel a great sense of excitement and remember a schoolgirl who will travel comfortably on my shoulder all the way to some far shore and back home again.

["I don't leave home without an angel on my shoulder"]

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH