July 15th, 2025: Day Forty-One

Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 14/14/12

They came early.

Initially I woke up at around 8:30am and wrote about the previous day’s events but then laid down and passed out again until about 12:30PM and heard a little girl’s voice. I wasn’t sure what the deal was, but I got up and went into the dining room and my aunt Jayne said that my cousin Gina and her granddaughter…yes, granddaughter, were here early. What I would learn later was that Gina drove straight here with little to no breaks from Edmonton. Crazy.

I was totally unprepared and Addy, three years old, a whirlwind of toddler energy and I quickly became overstimulated. A few times throughout the day I would retreat to the guest room and put in ear buds just to drown out the screams and running. I felt and feel bad for saying all this, but I’m just not conditioned for it, and I think at a few points it showed. Addy is a bright, friendly girl and she barely whined. She was just loud.

Gina suggested we go for lunch at a small restaurant called the Harbourage. I had visions of Addy being a child tsunami in public and I wasn’t sure what to do with that and considered staying behind, but I toughed it out, and just said I’d take my car because I needed to gas up. Yesterday was the first time the entire trip I let the tank go to a single bar.

Lunch was decent but it was, as I expected, a series of loud talking, banging on the table and making a mess. I was having a good time with Gina and Jayne though and they respect me in a way I wasn’t ready for. During these forty-one days I have anticipated not being taken seriously and I don’t think that has happened. My misconceptions of these people have been my sin to bear. An error I’m happy to see, and shameful to have made.

[Redacted]

The other thing I learned is Gina has so much on her plate. She has two sons in their twenties, and she’s also taking care of one of their daughters: Addy, or Adeline as I would learn later.

This side of the family, my Mothers that is, has so many different aspects I’m not sure what to do with that information. I felt connected, respected, but also exhausted. So much loss, between my cousin Marcy’s husband dying, My Uncle Butch, which is Aunt Jayne’s husband dying and Uncle John’s Wife, and my Aunt, Michele. All in the last five years. Then there’s the rift between family members. My father’s side has it too, but there’s a different…flavour to this. You can feel it in the air when they talk about it.

Editors Note: One of the differences I would learn after I got back home is I think it affected them more than those of my father’s side, who seem closed off.

I don’t think I’ll be staying to see my Grandma. I mean, if she remembered me, maybe…even though she didn’t like me much and wasn’t a good grandparent. But I also want to be out of here Thursday morning at the latest. This is one of those things I won’t think will haunt me with regret. There’s no emotion there when I think about her or see pictures and videos that Aunt Jayne posts on Facebook. The idea of seeing Nanni was totally different. I’m also just checked out and ready to get home to my wife and cat.

July 16th, 2025: Day Forty-Two

Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 14/14/13

Gina promised adventure today and she delivered.

I’m lying in bed and waiting for her to get up, and I get a text asking when I’m going to wake up because we got fun stuff to do.

I told her I’d shower now and when I saw her after she said we were going about an hour out of town to see her friend, and already I’m out of my comfort zone. Being in a car as a passenger, going who knows where to meet a stranger. I know I sound like I’m twelve, but these are the things introverts fear. I’m told to grab my camera, and I put it in my small shoulder bag and we’re off.

First stop is McDonald’s and while waiting for our coffee Gina randomly plays with a young child in their mother’s arms and I’m like…how does she do that so casual like. Especially without freaking out the mother. Gina can be rough around the edges but it’s obvious she was molded into a motherly figure from raising two kids and a grand kid.

We have a good chat and rib each other a bit and an hour or so later we’re in Rainy Lake. I meet her friend.

We smoked pot all day.

I haven’t smoked in years, but I was like fuck this, I’m going to let my hair down a bit and just go for it. That old feeling I used to experience on the daily came back pretty quick. My attention span went into the toilet and I relaxed, and also not relaxed at the same time.

Now we were driving in her friend’s car, and they were showing us a couple beaches, and we stopped in a store just outside a reservation when my blood glucose was getting low and they were selling indigenous art. Initially I just looked but after a snack I went back in and bought something.

I got some beach shots and a couple photos of Gina and her friend. I may be able to turn into a print for her later. I took them from a distance, but it looks artsy-fartsy.

We had been out for hours, and Aunt Jayne called to ask us when we were going to dig through Grandma’s storage locker contents and decided on this night.

Editor’s Note: I sit here wondering if I am missing any major details, because I must have smoked up half a dozen times. I’m surprisingly good this morning as I write this at 5:22AM but my Garmin watch didn’t record any sleep. Go figure.

We headed back, I dropped off my camera and went off to the storage locker. One of the first things Gina and I talked about is the half-naked picture of grandma which I thought was in the bedroom, but even worse, used to hang above the fireplace in the living room. I started yelling “naked grandma!” (a reference from an old Family Feud clip) and it became a thing for the rest of the night.

I came across a lot of different stuff. Mostly photos. One of the boxes contained all the crazy mystic stuff she was into, just like my mother. I don’t know why I got it in my head, but I started setting aside several tarot decks. I also got a couple wood boxes and Gina and I would sort through a couple other small boxes of pins later at Aunt Jaynes. I also found a Barbie horse still in box and some other random items like a turtle candy dish made of wood that I remembered.

I had debated whether to take this old-fashioned writing desk, but I determined that there was no room in my car.

We headed back again, and I initially put everything in my car but after we visited another friend of hers I brought most of the stuff up and reloaded it into my Samsonite rolling luggage.

I don’t think I actually had my last puff until about 10PM. I was questioning what kind of shape I’d be in this morning but as I write this but I seem to be fine.

During both my family visits, I’ve wondered how they were going to go and had a healthy dose of apprehension before arriving but have been pleasantly surprised. I do feel like there is a lot more underlying drama on my mother’s side of the family, but I don’t think that diminishes from my experience. I mean, I got along better with Gina than Brent of Jackie. I don’t really see them cutting loose like Gina did. Her laugh is infectious. I’m really grateful for my time in Fort Frances and it’s been a great way to cap off these past weeks.

July 17th, 2025: Day Forty-Three

Distance Travelled: 1757KM
Total Distance: 13723.4KM
Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 14/14/14

My last day would be my longest, and longer than any single person should drive in one day. I set off at about 7am local time and I didn’t even shower. I just wanted to be on the road with a head start. I didn’t know at the time I would make it all the way home, but I had the thought, as Gina drove from Edmonton to Fort Frances in one go. She looked like a wreck after, and I would be too.

I stopped as little as possible. I ate sparingly and went over my usual caffeine limit. It’s three days after I’ve arrived home that I write this, but I don’t know if I could remember much more if I had jotted it down the next day.

I got my Manitoba Starbucks mug to round things off. Manitoba itself was on fire, and I drove through some pretty thick wildfire smoke but nothing that compromised my visibility, or my lungs. I gassed up when I needed to and finished Zoe’s Tale on audiobook.

I spoke allowed all the things I’d be looking forward to when I got back. Simple stuff like living out of my closet again and not a suitcase. Not having to plan and drive every day. Putting all my toiletries away and using my own shower and toilet. Most of all, the art of doing nothing.

At one point, Google Maps suggested one route, but Garmin suggested another once I was near Calgary. While Garmin told me to hit ‘ol reliable highway one, Google said I could save two minutes by going the 901.

I chose the latter.

It was a poor decision as it was an unlit highway with twists and turns and by now it was nighttime after what was one of the most beautiful sunsets I had seen during my six-week extravaganza. I told Sarah to have a pizza waiting for me when I got there, which would be around 11pm, and my blood glucose was low, but not crashing.

Merging to Stoney Trail from the highway was nerve racking as it was under construction, and I had a hard time deciding where my car should be as the lanes weren’t painted in yet. I slowed down, squinted and made my way through. Considering I had been driving for upwards of fourteen hours straight with only a short shut eye on a dirt road, I was fairing well. I wasn’t tired but my attention span was compromised and I found myself distracted. I wouldn’t be doing something like this again, but the truth of the matter was I was down to my last seventy dollars, and a hotel, or even a campground was not in the budget. Oh, I was also running out of gas. A true photo finish for my bank account.

I tried not to have any expectations when I got home. I didn’t want to put any pressure on Sarah, but she delivered the warmest of welcomes. After I had parked, I was greeted with a kiss and a warm hug and when we got to our front door there was a handmade “welcome home” sign. I greeted my cat, who must have thought I was dead by now, and brought in about 70% of my stuff before chowing down, sharing my travel gifts and trinkets, then passing out.

Epilogue

The next few days would almost seem like I never left. I felt both at home, and a guest in my own home. I think partially because I was a guest somewhere for the last 43 days. I’d wake up and think I’d need to hit the road. I had never been out of Provence this long. I moved to Alberta in 1987. In 1990 I moved to Thunder Bay with my mother for less than six months, and when I was seventeen, I lived in Vancouver for a brief stint in 1998, about a month. If you take into account “living somewhere else” it’s still a thirty-five-year-old record broken. If you only count vacations this is the longest I’d been gone.

I feel different but I don’t know what to do with that feeling yet.