|
Prologue:
This trip was written from memory in April 1980. My parents were completely against this trip which made me all the more positive that it would be a good one. Roger and I had decided to hitchhike to Halifax, Nova Scotia for the spring break. Our friend, John Tullett, managed a restaurant there and had foolishly said he would employ us if we were ever in the area (I’m sure he felt his offer was quite safe with the distance of 1200 miles between us). My parents left for Ohio the day before and could only spare me \\$10. My tripmate to be, Roger Boyer, was quite wealthy and had \\$10 of his own. A family friend, Walt Power, was visiting at the time and felt sorry for the two of us and chipped in a further \\$10. With our new found wealth we were able to talk another friend, Roger Metcalfe, into driving us about 15 miles to the 401. I was 17 and Roger was a year older.
Sunday March 17, 1974:
Roger and I got up early and loaded our packsacks to the tune of 70 lbs each with things we would never need. We sat around watching the worst blizzard of the year and waiting for Roger Metcalfe, who had agreed to pick us up at 7:00 a.m. At 8:00 he still had not arrived so we gave him a call. "What…you’re not still going in this weather! You must be crazy!" It was all we could do to even convince him to drive his car. Eventually he showed up in his Gremlin with the super wide tires. After a few unintentional donuts, he deposited us at the 401 in Odessa and left us standing in the blizzard. I was beginning to have a little gnawing at the back of my mind suggesting that just maybe my parents were right after all. My thoughts were interrupted by a car pulling over beside us. Two girls picked us up and dropped us somewhere…geography being one of my poorer subjects and the blizzard obscuring any landmarks, made it difficult to decipher where, if anywhere. I should mention that we also brought along Fred. He was an invisible penguin and was responsible for many memorable songs such as "Fred Penguin" * (*sung to the tune of "The Mighty Quinn"). Some of the chorus went as follows;
"Come on without
Come on within
You’ll not see nothing
Like Fred Penguin".
Or for those of you who enjoy more mellow music, there was Helen Reddy’s "I Am Penguin":
"If I have to I can do anything.
I am strong.
I am Invisible.
I am Penguin".
We were too crazy to freeze and continued hitchhiking all day. Towards evening, Roger mentioned something about food and we realised we hadn’t eaten yet today. We rummaged through our packs and dug out some sandwiches and ate them in a snowbank. Suddenly, night was upon us. We were nowhere in a blizzard and getting colder by the minute. I spotted an old barn just barely within our blizzard view. We waded through the snow and checked it out as possible accommodations for the night. I talked Roger into trying 15 more minutes of hitchhiking. If that didn’t work…it would be the barn for us. I think this decision was a turning point in our lives. Had we stayed, I have no doubt we would have woken up dead. Ten minutes later, a very nice gentleman from Montreal picked us up. "Where are you headed, boys?" he asked jovially. "Halifax" we chorused. He smiled and said, "No really boys. Where are you going?". He refused to believe us and stopped talking completely for half an hour. Then he ventured his question again. It took some doing but we finally convinced him we were serious. We had left our proof in the last ride – a "Halifax or Bust" sign. In his small car, Mr. Girard could barely see. Three times, we actually spun completely around after hitting snowdrifts which had blown across the road. He felt so sorry for us that he invited us to his apartment in Montreal to spend the night. We couldn’t very well refuse since we had no other pressing engagements. He cooked us up a great meal of roast beef and wine for supper and gave us each a couch for the evening. We had no trouble getting to sleep.
Monday March 18, 1974:
We awoke to find breakfast waiting for us. We packed up our survival gear. We each had a green boy scout type cloth packsack, two identical green coats, and were wearing two pairs of pants, long underwear, two pairs of socks, snowmobile boots and numerous sweaters. Roger even had a balaclava (a silly thing you wear on your head). We also had a radio and handwarmer which we never used. After a million thank you’s, Mr. Girard’s son drove us to the nearest bus stop where we caught a bus to the highway. Soon we got a ride with a black transport driver. The three of us got along very well. At one point we stopped for gas. I left to use the washroom. On the way back I stopped and bought us each a coke. I arrived back at our transport to discover that my two pals had done the same as I. It was not easy drinking three cokes each but it gave us a good laugh. Somehow we ended up being dropped in Rivierre Du Loop. We were lost but I told Roger not to worry until we saw a rickshaw. We rounded the corner and there was…a rickshaw! It was advertising a Chinese restaurant. That had really scared us. We went in and had a couple of coffees to warm up. We left and did some walking. All the dogs were barking at us, "le ruff, le ruff". We decided to rummage around in our packsacks to see if we had any sandwiches left. What a surprise! Apparently Mr. Girard had slipped us a couple of roast beef sandwhiches while we slept. They tasted extra good out in the cold. We weren’t getting any rides so to warm up I started running back and forth across the four lane highway. Roger kept asking why I was stopping in the middle. I told him I was waiting for Fred as his legs were much shorter. Roger got mad and kicked Fred’s suitcases into the ditch. Roger’s tantrum was interrupted by our next ride – a suburban type truck full of hippies. They left us in the back stopping at no less than 6 bars before we finally gave up and left to try someone else. Towards evening after a flock of extinct arctic terns flew by, we spotted a billboard in a field. We were considering camping there for the night but saw a light up ahead. The light turned out to be a solitary lamp post that mysteriously switched itself off as soon as we closed in on it. We walked a further five miles on a country road still in the blizzard, until we came to a little inn at about 11:00 p.m. A girl in hotpants showed us to our room. Somehow Roger ended up blocking the only way out of the room which seemed to scare her for some reason. We didn’t even have the energy to turn down the sheets but slept in our sleeping bags. I was so tired I was asleep even before I was asleep.
Tuesday March 19, 1974:
Got up and had a small breakfast with our meager savings. With the language barrier, we may have ordered helicopter soup. Fred was being anti-social and sat at a table by himself. When it came time to pay we reverted to primitive means. Roger counted out a dollar. The girl gesticulated for more. I gave her another dollar and so it went on until she seemed happy. Our room had cost us \\$3.50 each! We should have stayed under the billboard. We put on our many coats and walked in the blizzard two miles back to the main highway. Sat in a snowbank and ate our chocolate bars. We got a ride and were let off in the middle of nowhere. We started walking and hitchhiking at the same time. This had been going on for quite a while. We were on a curve and Roger gave up saying it was no use. The magic words immediately forced a red sports car to pull over. The driver was in a body cast. Both his arms were in casts but it did not stop him from driving and we were soon moving at over 100 mph. Because of his hampered condition we had quite a few close calls. Eventually we stopped at a restaurant. He ordered himself a steak and Roger and I had the cheapest thing we could find – probably toast and bean. After dining our driver insisted on paying for our meals saying "I’m on an expense account so it costs me nothing". If only he had mentioned that earlier. He took us a little further and dropped us off. A transport took over. There were only two seats and the driver was in one. Roger took the other. That left me to sit in the middle on a strange lopsided metal heater box. The pointed edge faced upwards and was quite uncomfortable. Roger told me later that the driver had said, "your friend must be very tired to have been able to sleep there." We got several more rides including our last one which dropped us right at the exact address we were going to in Halifax. At 11:20 p.m. we ran up to the door and knocked. An old lady peered out. Apparently we were at the right address but the wrong street. Fortunately it was only one street over. We left while screams of "do up your coats or you’ll catch cold" echoed through the continuing blizzard. Just before John’s apartment I spotted a Dairy Queen. It seemed like the thing to do so I had a hot fudge sundae and Roger had an ice cream cone. We were the last customers and since it was now midnight the store was closing. Roger had mentioned to the young attractive waitress how we had just braved the blizzard all the way from Kingston. She didn’t want to kick us back out in the snow so she offered to let us stay at her house as her parents were away. She was quite good looking. I explained how our friend was expecting us in his apartment just across the road while Roger glared at me in amazement and kicked at my ankles. I hobbled after my seething friend, licking away at my ice cream yelling, "Hey, what’s wrong…wait for me!" What with the blizzard and Roger’s cold shoulder, there wasn’t much chance of my ice cream melting. John and Chris were quite surprised to see us so soon. His brother Dave and wife Leisha were also there. After a brief chat of our travels we went to bed.
Wednesday March 20, 1974:
John and Chris got us up early and drove us to the Lord Hammond Inn on the Chebucto Road. We had breakfast there then Roger and I were put to work as busboys and waiters. We worked till noon when John closed the restaurant early. We went back to the apartment. Roger had Jim VanAlstyne’s cousins address (Cindy Josey) so we looked it up. Since it was only a mile away, we decided to drop in and say hello. We set out. Cindy was surprised not to see us. She wasn’t home. We told her parents that we would return tomorrow. I’m sure they were thinking, "thanks for the warning." Back at the apartment Roger and I sat around not smoking up. I think Guenter Stebner was there. The last I heard from him he was living in a cave in British Columbia. One of John’s friends, a DJ named Johnny Mac dropped by and entertained us with his rock like, karate black belt hands. Finally went to bed.
Thursday March 21, 1974:
We got up and worked hard all day at the restaurant. Went back to the apartment for supper and then Roger and I walked over to see Cindy again. Cindy and her friend Kathy Cooper took us down in the basement to listen to Gene Tracy trucker tapes in the dark…can you get more romantic? Kathy and I went for a walk around the neighbourhood and ran into Cindy’s sister, Patty and her boyfriend. I dragged Roger away from Gene Tracy and we headed home. Just down the road we spotted the police car Patty’s boyfriend had warned me about. Since I was a minor (17) with no ID or money 1200 miles from home, we decided it might be wise to try and avoid him. We took a three mile detour, got lost and ended up…at the police car. We took our chances and nonchalantly sauntered by at 2:30 a.m. He ignored us. We got to the apartment and knocked on the door…and knocked and knocked and screamed and pounded. No luck. Apparently no one was home or they were all spaced out. My money was on the latter. We had no choice but to go out to John’s car. It was freezing out. Several lobsters had died under John’s seat and the smell was atrocious. After two hours of trying to sleep in the car we gave up and tried the apartment again. Still no luck. We slept on the stairs inside. We were nudged several times by people who wanted to get by. At 7:00 a.m. John woke us up asking why we didn’t knock.
Friday March 22, 1974:
We left immediately for another hard day’s work. From there we walked back to Cindy’s as we had been invited for supper. Half way through supper I got a charley horse in my leg and nearly kicked the table over. I think Kathy was there and the four of us listened to Gene Tracy tapes again until midnight. One of you three will have to e-mail me and fill me in. Gene Tracy is the only one likely to respond.
Saturday March 23, 1974:
Got up early and worked all day again. I think we went back over to Cindy’s and I have some kind of memory about going somewhere in a car…probably with Gene Tracy. Went to bed late as usual.
Sunday March 24, 1974:
Today was our last day as Roger and I were both on our spring break from school. John kindly gave us the day off – he even closed the restaurant in our honour…at least that was his story. Of course Roger and I went over to Cindy’s. Her and Kathy took us on a bus tour of Halifax. We went to the Citadel. Kathy and I ran all the way up the steps. Fred could barely keep up. We also went to some museums and a scad of other places. The next part is fuzzy. Even Roger wasn’t sure what happened. I think the girls came with us when John and Chris drove us to the bus station but Roger isn’t sure. Anyway, we were moving along quite smartly, partly because we were late, partly because John drives that way and maybe a little bit because of what John had been smoking. As we whipped in to the train station, a set of red flashing lights whipped in right behind us. John was slightly worried. Who knows what else was lurking under the seats with the decaying lobsters. The RCMP officers wrinkled their noses at the stench, hassled us for a while but finally let us go. John bought us our tickets back (as he had agreed to do for payment of working at his restaurant). We barely made the train. I seem to recall kissing the girls goodbye…but then again, they may not have been there. After knocking several old ladies down with our packsacks, we arrived at our seats. We left Halifax at 5:15 p.m. and went immediately to sleep. An hour later the train stopped so Roger and I decided to get something to eat. The porter told us the dining car was two cars back. We headed in that direction. Just as we were about to step into the dining car, it uncoupled right in front of us and we watched it slowly disappear in the distance. Roger looked at me. I looked at him. Time passed. Without saying a word we both went back to our seats. Fifteen minutes later, the engineer must have sensed that half his train had been left behind. We came to a halt, reversed and eventually there was a loud crash. I assumed we had recoupled to the dining car. I think later we had a mini pizza for .60 which is what we survived on all the way back as we only had less than \\$5 between us. Roger became bored and set out to do a survey. He returned with some very interesting facts. He told me there was a \\$50 fine for spitting on the train premises, there are ashtrays in the "no smoking" section but none were smoking is allowed. He had many other useful facts but I seemed to have neglected to write them down. We failed to get any sleep that night because of 4 dope smoking hippies who were floating up and down the aisles making a lot of noise.
Monday March 25, 1974:
I don’t know what we did on the train all day today but I know we finally arrived in Montreal at 5:00 p.m. – four hours late because of heavy snow. Of course we missed our connection. We were informed that the next train leaving for Kingston wasn’t until 11:30. Aaaagh! Six more hours. I grabbed a Montreal Times newspaper and began tearing it into 52 little squares. I labelled them and voila (!) we had a deck of cards. I also had two extra for penguins (jokers for the layman). Roger refused to play so I had to satisfy myself by playing 48 games of Fish with Fred. He won them all. Meantime two hippies sat down beside us. Two plainclothes officers came over, showed their badges and carted them away. I was beginning to get bored so I went over to the nearest restaurant and applied for a job. I told them I would work for free. The manager gave me a strange look and quickly refused my offer. Caroline, one of last nights hippies decided to join me. We tried several places and they all turned us down. We returned to our bench. A young artist came over and offered Caroline \\$50 to paint her at his apartment. She refused. I accepted. He ran away. About this time a new benchmate, Don, joined us. He turned out to be a very handy guy as he had a real deck of cards with him. Don, Roger, Fred and I played a short game of poker. It was short as Don won all our money….three cents. Caroline refused to play with a penguin. Seeing how we wouldn’t be getting to Kingston until after 2:00 a.m. l phoned home and got my father out of bed. Apparently he was sick. They had had a car accident but would send someone to pick us up. Roger kept interrupting me to tell me that there was a guard sneaking around the benches with a loaded revolver in his hand. He finally left me to finish my long distance call. When I returned to our bench, Roger was involved in a conversation with a 64 year old man who was explaining in great detail all about his sex life in Hong Kong and Germany during the last war. He finally got to the point and asked Roger for a cigarette. Roger only had two left so he said no. The old man moved down to the next group and started his rehearsed speech over again. I was now amazed to find that it was 11:30. We boarded our train. As I walked down the hallway I thought I heard footsteps behind me. I turned and pinned the conductor against the wall with my 70 lb packsack. I made an excellent impression on him. While he was recovering I ran off and found a seat. The two of us were soon asleep. We were rudely awakened by a slap on the leg. It was the conductor. Apparently he remembered me. He told us to get our feet off the chairs opposite us. Since we were now awake we set off to find Don and Caroline. They had reserved some seats for us so we sat down and started another card game. We had just started when our friend the conductor came over and yelled at us to get back to our original seats. We weren’t able to convince him that we were harmless so we returned and went to sleep with our feet up on the seats again.
Tuesday March 26, 1974:
The next thing I knew, the conductor was shining a flashlight in my eye and yelling, "Kingston…next stop." I opened one eye, said "that’s nice" and went back to sleep. He shook me and told me to get off the train. He seemed fairly hostile for some reason. I woke Roger up and we disembarked. My mother met us at the station and drove us home. We hadn’t eaten in the last 8 hours so she cooked us up some steak and potatoes. They were pretty yummy even if it was 5:00 a.m. by the time they were ready. Of course I’ll have to confess that even a gorilla sandwich with rhubard and spam sauce would have tasted pretty good to me at that point. Roger and I decided to skip school today since we would only get two and a half hours sleep.
