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| Talk,
Thomas Garland,
14 January 1999 | |
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Canada is a very big place, that may have been already blindingly obvious to you, however the fact is that its shear size defines it more than any other factor, including it's biculturelism, is often underestimated. Distances make it the unusual place that it is, but distance also threatens to tear it apart. Most of us will fly in at one end or the other, maybe even fly from one end to the other. That seems sensible, that's where most Canadians are to be found, pressed against their neighbour for a little southern warmth. There's plenty to see there, but you can't get much of a perspective on the whole country. If you meant to get the whole picture you're going to have to go through the boring bit in the middle.
You can ride a train, it was once your only option, I'm sure it's pleasant and probably costs a bomb. You could rent a car and drive yourself across, but then within half a week you'll wish you hadn't. I decided to hitch, it had worked for me in Alaska, except for Toc of course, but then that's another story. I'd dare anyone to hitch across the US, but up north it seemed to me to be the best and cheapest way to get around. It's not too safe out in the open, the bears can kill you and so can the mosquitoes so people tend to look out for each other. But most of all driving down to the shops along the same old road can get a little tedious when those shops are four hours away, so a hitch hiker can provide a little light entertainment, especially when the car radio isn't working right.
Once I'd reached a road in the Yukon, having walked over from Alaska, I decided to continue thumbing it, let's face it walking wasn't going to get me far. The traffic was light, but the locals were friendly and too soon I'd reached Seattle. With some relief I could now get around without having to hitch and for the right price I could be flying out to New York in under five hours, but very soon I missed the life on the road and having a little time to kill I started hitching east along one of two roads that cross Canada. It would take me over a week, but at least I'd get to see places that I'd never have bothered going out of my way to see.
It all begins suddenly as you reach Alberta, behind you are the majestic Rocky Mountains and in front there is wheat and plenty of it, in fact it's all you'll get to see for the next two thousand kilometers so learn to love wheat the way Terence Mallik does. The road numbs the European mind, used to a little more in terms of roadside attractions. You'll find yourself reading out loud every passing road sign and bill board just to keep your side entertained, but as the days of wheat go by you'll begin to appreciate the scale of the place, it's a funny feeling, and like a Canadian you'll no longer speak of kilometers but of hours.
Now I'd recommend heading east, the wheat will have prepared you for Ontario and it's trees. You see, wheat is boring, but it does allow you to see far, far enough to see places that will take you another hour to reach. You can't do that with trees, with trees all you get to see is more trees, millions of trees, every fucking one of them the same. By the second day you'll hate trees in a way you could never hate wheat. Once the trees begin to die out you will know that you have reached the sterile wasteland that is Sudbury, home of the big Nickel and nothing else, but it's a classy place to end a trans-Canadian trip.
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