Like the removal of KT tape over a hairy leg, I will deal with this nagging issue swiftly. Due to the cuts in bus services across much of Western Canada (Manitoba, Saskatchewan, B.C., and Yukon Territory) in the last year, I will be forced to end this year’s walk early in Fort St. John, B.C., then start again next year.
Although I wanted My Walk to end in Watson Lake, YK this year in mid to late September, there is too much uncertainty, cost, and hassle for me to go forward with this plan. Regardless of the logistical difficulty I am faced with, it doesn’t upset my finishing date: summer 2019. It will, however, result in a higher pitch yell when I take the final step and dip into Cook Inlet next year.
Honestly, my issue is miniscule compared with so many others living outside a major city in Canada on a fixed income, low income, or a combination of that and having a chronic illness where you have regular medical appointments in Winnipeg, Regina, Saskatoon, Edmonton, Calgary. I never intended, nor wanted this blog to ever touch on political issues, however, people without the means, a vehicle, or access to transportation where I walk are in the most difficult of positions one can be in. It is such a shame that this isn’t a major political issue; instead, we focus on pipelines, pot, and taxes.
Living in rural Canada, as I walk and meet with the people that live here, is a way of life one cannot achieve in a large city or major center. There is something very special among these places, yet I cannot find the words to describe a phenomena I mull over almost daily. There is always that little something that gives me pause as I enter each of these villages, hamlets, and towns. Maybe it is the freedom to do what you like without much oversight, maybe it is the peace and quiet, maybe it is more time to live among the naturalness, instead of congested streets and highways or, just maybe, it is just the magnetic pull that a small town or hamlet one grew up in: sometimes roots are just too deep.
In all, everything is going very well out here this year; I am more relaxed and having more fun than last year. Western Canada has been too kind to me. Even more surprising is the string of good luck in the weather and logistics, regardless of this bus fiasco. The truth be told, ff everything was to stop today because of some unfortunate event, I would consider this year an enormous success. It might sound like I am putting lipstick on a pig — I have always wanted to use that statement — but it is truly the case.
Oh ya, I am writing this post not in my tent, but in Ashmont, AB atop a desk under the cover of a gazebo. What luxury.