Tag Archives: crossCanada

This is how we survived the night in Edmonton, without a place to sleep.

If you’ve read some of the stories from the blog, you have probably noted how my friends and I are unconventional in our decision making. I don’t know why we think the way we do, but it makes for some interesting stories, I guess. I can picture myself at 80 years old, sitting on a park bench, reciting stories from the “good ol’ days” to whoever is listening; like Forrest Gump.

4 am in the Denny’s

This story is brought to you by a lack of money in our bank accounts, the spirit of adventure, and Denny’s all day breakfast.

It is the glorious summer of 2017. We have just endured the 3 day journey trapped in the confines of the VIA Rail explorer train from Sudbury to Edmonton, explored the deep wilderness of Banff national park, and barely survived the Calgary Stampede. Unfortunately, it was time to say goodbye to half of the travelling squad, as they were making their way back to Ontario. It was also farewell to the province of Alberta.

The two of us that remained felt the gloom take over, as we watched the rental car take our friends away. They had left us in the middle of an Edmonton suburb, with bags on our back, and no where to go. We had a train scheduled for 10 am that morning, so we saw no sense in getting a good night sleep at a hotel. By that point, the trip consisted of ramen noodles and sleeping in tents, so why stop that now?

We seriously had no idea where to go, so we regrouped at a local grocery store to discuss our options. We had to survive the night in Edmonton, until our train the next morning, and the option of checking into a hotel room was out of the question. We contemplated hitting the town, enjoying ourselves, but had nowhere to store our 80 pounds of bags and camping equipment. Finally we decided we needed a shower, so we used our trusty GoodLife fitness passes to enter a 24/7 gym. That bought us a few hours of steam room, a quick workout and a shower. The hands on the clock showed midnight, and we had nearly run out of ideas.

We decided there was only one place that we could find shelter, water, booze and delicious all night breakfast — Denny’s diner. The place was rocking the moment we sat down with our enormous bags at a booth near the crane machine. I order an omelet of some sorts and a coffee with Baileys. The clock hit 4 am, as we were running out of things to talk about, and had ordered our 7th orange juice so they would not kick us out. The game plan transitioned to a series of sleeping shifts of 30 minutes.

We adopted the Denny’s as our home ’till about 6 in the morning. We then took a cab to the train station and slept under the stars leaning on the VIA Rail doors, just waiting for them to open up.

After that incredibly long night, we were well on our way to Vancouver, guided by the winding railroad.

(Did you know it only took 10 years to build the railway across Canada? Absolutely insane.)

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/railway-history

Never enter abandoned houses, the terrifying tale of our close encounter

This story began with an idea, that evolved into a mistake.

I want to begin this story by thanking everyone for the wonderful support I’ve been receiving for my last two stories.  In the spirit of the theme of ridiculous tales and mistakes from my life, here is the story of my friends and I’s life-threatening experience, going a little off course, coming back from a road hockey tournament in Ottawa.  This one is pretty ridiculous. So buckle up.

We were 8 young adults on the way to our annual road hockey tournament in the nation’s Capital. This was a tradition dating 4 years and it was always promised by the organizers to be the best weekend ever.  The promise was always fulfilled. This weekend was no different.

These 3 days filled with concerts, aggressive ball hockey on the soft asphalt and questionable hotel etiquette.  But that’s not where the story is.  This terrifying tale begins on the ride home.

My friends and I were desperately trying to extend our best weekend ever, so on the way back from Ottawa, we decided to take the scenic route. We veer right from the Trans-Canada highway, hoping to cross the provincial border to la belle province of Québec. This small trail leads us to a strange ferry that transported cars from one side of the Ottawa river to the other. It’s hard to describe but it sort of looked like a parking lot bouncing off the shores of the river with the help of a long copper cable.

It was a Sunday afternoon, we had school the next day.  This was a 6-hour drive. To no surprise, our adventurous spirit won against our reason, so we drove the Nissan Pathfinder onto the platform, and let the river take us to the other side.

We ended up in a variety of strange little towns that were really not what I expected.  It was like the platform brought us to the past. Old worn down buildings, it looked like a ghost town.  This drive was definitely a weird one. But it was about to get weirder.

Someone had the brilliant idea to inspect an old abandoned farm like Scooby-Doo and the mystery gang.  We proceed to park our car, jump a short fence and walk through the field towards the broken down home and barn. Yes, this is trespassing, I am sorry.

What we found was pretty shocking.  The house was exactly what we expected, broken down, full of ancient furniture and features.  But behind the house, a pile of what looked like dog bones caught our eye. I can honestly tell you, I had the weirdest feeling while being there.  Like something was going to happen. That did not stop us from entering the barn.

One of my friends yells out a “CAWKAWW”, meaning we were in trouble.  It was instant panic.  We had spotted people at our car, blocking the road and slowly walking towards us. I could hear one of my friends (who shall not be named) in the back of me whispering “I’m going book it, I’m going to run”. We convince him to walk with us towards the visitors.  In the back of my mind, I was still thinking, please don’t run, I am so slow.  We get close to our new friends, and we got a good look at them.

The first guy was an older gentleman in his sixties.  He was wearing alligator skin boots, a purple silk tuxedo with a bowtie, and a cape.  To top it all off, he was also wearing a fedora with a red feather.  Clearly an intimidating outfit.  He had a strange entourage behind him composed of what looked like his son, and 2 tall women standing in the back of a pickup truck. Before I can get any word out, the man in the purple suit says this “You know someone died in that house before.” He told the tale of a taxi driver from Montreal who took a woman hostage and drove all the way to this house to make his demands.  He got shot down by the police in that very house. He explained how that was his land and was apparently a buffalo farm. With no buffalo’s in sight, this was very confusing.

He topped it all off with the fact that he has access to many higher-ups in some motorcycle gang.

I try explaining to the man in a panic, that we were only stretching our legs. To no avail.  He kept passive-aggressively suggesting that this might of been our last day on this planet, in the calmest voice possible.  This made it even more terrifying.

These are some direct quotes from this encounter:

“You know it’s like the deep south around here, like Alabama.  You step on someone’s property, who knows what might happen.”

“You guys are lucky it was me who found you and not my neighbor down the road. He’s done some crazy stuff. He would do anything for me, ANYTHING.”

Yes, we outnumbered them and probably could have easily run away. But what he was saying froze us.  Eventually, we got out of there with no physical injuries.  But the image remains, of the crazy man with the purple suit and the alligator boots.  If I could just stop one person from trespassing into an abandoned house, this story will have done its job.

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How I Survived Riding the Cross Canada Passenger Train

My mother always told me to explore one’s own country, before stepping out into the world. Coming from Canada, it’s tough to traverse all of its untamed surfaces. Luckily for me, the Canadian train company Via rail offered to citizens from the age of 18-25, the chance to ride across the country for the month of July. This coveted Willy Wonka-like  ticket cost 150 Canadian dollars and its purpose was to commemorate Canada’s 150th anniversary. Immediately, my travel companions and I hopped on board. After several hours of phone calls, relentless emails and soothing elevator on-hold music, we secured four tickets to scavenge the great Canadian railroad.

The volume of interest generated was insurmountable for the company and the train carts were rapidly filled to the overhead compartments with young freight hoppers. For a group of twenty-year-olds, this was like the hatch-lings first flight from the nest. Excitement and wanderlust coursed through our veins as we approached the underwhelming hut facing the train tracks in the heart of the rural northern Canadian town’s industrial park. As dawn approaches, our enthusiasm is at its peak. Eyes baggy from lack of slumber, we jumped on board the passenger vessel like it was the train to Hogwarts, and we headed west in search of gold. Our first destination was the scenic town of Banff, in the heart of the northern rocky mountains. Hiking the hazardous rocky top of Pharaoh’s peak was our goal. Three days later was our expected time of arrival.

We were still 3 moons away from reaching our target. After an hour, desperation loomed over us. The thought of three full days on this mechanical bastille covering three Canadian provinces and close to three thousand kilometers ( 1864.114 miles) crushed our spirits. What happened next, caught us off guard. As we gazed towards Lake Superior’s glistening whitecaps and rolled through the repetitive lush Boreal forest of North-Western Ontario, there was a mutual unspoken agreement within the confines of the train. If we were to be stuck in here, we would enjoy our time. These three days turned into an adult summer camp on rails. The comradery between young passengers and the Via rail crew was like something only seen in movies. Stops were made in small secluded railroad communities like Hornepayne.

The large group of strangers turned into traveling companions rushed towards the local watering holes to reward their relentless patience with a cold brewed beverage. We would return to the vehicle bearing alcoholic souvenirs from our short one hour visits to these boondocks. At night, we would sneak over to the complimentary glass bubble train cart. This wagon was equipped with heavily cushioned seats and a glass casing roof that pierced through the night sky. The wagon was raised slightly above the rest, giving a scenic view of the night sky, untouched by the detrimental light pollution. Also visible was the tail of the train, confidently winding through the evening. The intoxicating sounds of the train whistle, the laughter of the young new friends and a poor rendition of the Canadian national anthem serenades us through the night. We head back to our seats to find out they were all taken.  The train employee presented us the option of sleeping sitting at the dining cart dinner tables, or stay up for the night, waiting for seats to clear up.  We settled with crashing in the bubble dome.

The warm sun rays beating down on our hungover faces wakes us up for another day on the rails. To my surprise, a sea of golden grain fields dominates the landscape. We were in the Canadian prairies. There’s an old saying that says, if you lose your dog in the prairies, you can watch him run away for a day. Let’s just say the rumors are true. Our clan sets up for another evening in the dome, when the train is forced to stop for the night. Our disappointment was brief. The night sky was painted by a fantastic thunderstorm. Lightning was striking at an incredible rate, using the flatlands as its canvas. It was a spectacular and memorable light show that left everyone in the glass bubble in complete disbelief. Before my train adventure, if I could skip the travel and arrive at the destination, I would of. No longer, I’ve learned that the journey can be more enjoyable than the destination. This ride was off the rails.

If I have one piece of advice for anyone jumping on a similar adventure, pack a ridiculous amount of food, and do not forget the spirit revitalizer (alcohol). Since the train is not equipped with refrigeration, nor with a kitchen open for passengers, I’ve made up my grocery list of key items that you will not regret having for the 3 day journey.

Grocery list

  1. 2 reusable water bottles. At least one of them needs to be opaque.
  2. Several packets of dried oatmeal.  (They do offer free hot water on the train.)
  3. 1 750 mL bottle of Pimm’s. (I find this spirit is relatively independent, meaning it does not necessarily need ice. It also has a lower alcohol percentage, meaning a smoother finish from those water bottles.)
  4. Several cups of dried ramen noodles with vegetable seasoning.
  5. Inno’s food coconut clusters. (These are ridiculously delicious and they fill you up.)  

6.  Many Cliff protein bars.

7. Basic toiletries.

8. Several hours of new music, podcasts, or downloaded episodes.

9. 2 good books.

10. A comfortable neck pillow. (VERY IMPORTANT)

11. Sense of adventure, patience, and courtesy towards others.