Life is a highway

Home. I pulled into my driveway at nine, as the GPS lady promised me I would. I unloaded my small haul from America, plugged in my dead cell phone and started reconnecting with the world I left behind on Friday evening.

Friday. It feels so long ago. I turned down after work drinks with K so I could go home and pack. I stopped at Starbucks on the way so I could get a smoothie for the road. It was sunny and warm and I had the whole long weekend ahead of me. I had a fun ride down.

Hot Border guard: Where you headed?
Me: Turtle River.
Hot Border guard: Whatchya doing down there?
Me: Camping.
Hot Border Guard: By yourself?
Me: Meeting my parents down there.
Hot Border Guard: So your parents forced you to go camping with them this weekend huh? Doing anything else down there?

Figuring it would have been inappropriate at this time to bat my eyelashes and ask in a Canadian maple syrup sweet voice, "what are you doing later?" I instead replied: Maybe some shopping.

Hot Boarder Guard with dimpled smile: Alright then, you try to have fun camping this weekend.

I continued my journey onward with my spirits and music high and pulled up to the motor home around 8:30 where I was greeted by my parents and Elmo. Home for the weekend. I've fallen in love with the drive to the border now, the way I know other Manitobans love the drive north to the beaches or east to the Lake of the Woods area. And the motor home, it's not a cabin on the lake and I don't even get my own bedroom, but the motor home has become a special home away from home for me. Wherever it is, there is a warm place for me.

This weekend I went shopping with my mom, rode bikes with my dad and scratched Elmo behind his ears whenever I could. I hung around a bit late today, not wanting to leave. While my journey was ending today, my mom's and dad's was just starting. Dad retired this week and now they are travelling for the month of September. No real destination, just wherever the wind blows (although I warned my mom to stay clear of hurricane territory). It felt weird this week. First my dad had this big accomplishment--he finished his 37-year career. For all my life it's been me or my sister accomplishing things, but this time it was my dad's turn to celebrate himself. And today, when I pulled away from the motor home and waved so long, I had an idea what it might feel like to be a parent sending her children off to summer camp or university for the first time. Where did the time go? Will they be okay? A month is so long, I'm going to miss them so!

The ride home was less enjoyable. The skies were grey and the wind was wicked. The line up at the border was long (2 miles or more, 100 minutes).

Back at home I plugged in my dead phone, retrieved the message from Lisa (she's home!!) and a text message from Judy (still stuck in the border line up). OAF IM'd me, requesting stories. I checked my fridge for something lunchable. I didn't buy anything I can wear to work tomorrow, well, maybe. OAF is going back to school tomorrow, like so many others. Lucky.

I was feeling pensive while I was bike riding this weekend. The park had a lot of hills. Sometimes I had to chug pretty hard to climb them, even in a low gear. The best feeling was when I was almost at the top and I knew that I was going to make it. At that moment I relished the challenge, way more than the easy sail down the other side. Coasting isn't really that much fun for more than a moment or so. (Although that moment is truly something--the hum of the tires, the wind in my face, the break from peddling.) The other thing that really isn't fun is peddling down a flat stretch in an easy gear. I need some resistance so I don't feel like I'm just spinning my wheels. It's good to know the kind of ride you like and the gear you operate best in. It's also pretty cool to look back at some of those hills you've climbed and be amazed at how far you've come.

I'd go on, but it's getting late. I'll try to post more regularly if only so that my mom and dad have something nice to read when they have Internet access on the road.