Yeah, Ontario is huge, and driving 3 days I didn’t even scratch the surface.

After an emotional 24 hours of celebrations and goodbyes (following weeks of emotional maybe-goodbyes), I said my last tearful see-ya-later to my dad and drove off in my cherry red RAV4 — a long-awaited purchase which both he and I dedicated many hours of research and searching.

My car, which I’ve now lovingly named Star, is practically perfect: 2011 but in mint condition, low KMs, and, most importantly, she has a sunroof. But there was one major flaw I discovered immediately after pulling off the dealership lot in Oakville: the speakers suck. Like, phone speaker quality. I’d tried not to let that curb my joy of finally finding a car, but it was a bit of a downer taking her inaugural trip back to Toronto with muted bass for my bass-heavy tunes.

Me & pops picking up my new ride in the magical land of Oakville.

I was grateful Dad suggested I take a few moments to breathe and settle before driving; I had some beautiful farewell cards to open and absorb, but didn’t want to keep him waiting to see me off. With my heart full of loving sentiments shared by friends and family, deep breaths taken, and music quietly playing — I wish I remembered which song — I was on my way. Cruising into the sunset of this chapter of life.

My general takeaway from this brief glimpse through the country is awe at its vastness. It’s absolutely wild how big this land is, and how many varied lives and lifestyles exist within it. That we have one government trying to “represent” all our differing needs is kinda absurd. What also struck me was the multitude of workers, from gas station attendants to motel receptionists to geographic surveyors and everyone beyond, who are so essential to the functioning of our daily lives.

I made it to Nelson in almost four days, exactly: Wednesday - Sunday. Though the trip wasn’t packed with thrills, it was a perfectly peaceful journey of transition. I hope you appreciate the simple, somber sweetness found on this cross-country road trip.

How I kept myself alive & well

I packed 2 meals/day: oatmeal for breakfast, and these lifesaving ready-to-eat Indian meals for dinner
For snacks, I was thoughtfully gifted Polish kielbasa by my dad, and homemade ginger molasses cookies by @goodfoodloob. I also found killer samosas near Thunder Bay at the Fill & Chill, and gas station snacks along the way
For each day, I scoped out two options for motels — one ~8 hours away, one ~10 — and reserved en route. When I stopped for gas/coffee later in the afternoon, I chose based on my energy and the weather if I wanted to drive farther
I’d always search for gas stations along the route before heading off in the morning
To curb loneliness I had phone call catch-ups lined up with friends and family
To keep my sanity, I shuffled between these playlists of Canadiana, organica, and indie-folk

Day 1: Toronto - Thessalon (Sault Ste. Marie-ish) ON

DVP > 401 > 400 > 69 > 17

I knew getting out of the GTA would be a slog, but I didn’t realize it would be the only slog in the entire five provinces I crossed. I left at 3-ish in the afternoon, and it took me until about 7pm to escape the constant stream of cars. After that, the only time I had to slow down was for trucks, and even those were few and far between.

I don’t remember much about the first day. With jitters about the daunting journey ahead, sadness permeating my heart, and excitement brewing in my soul, I just went for it with my head in the clouds. My drive was also mostly in the dark, sadly missing the most scenic parts of the route near Manitoulin. Realizing I’d arrive at whatever motel I was staying at around 11pm and would immediately want to sleep, I settled for a gas station Tim’s steeped tea and self-assembled bagel with butter for dinner.

By the time I reached that Tim’s, I’d had enough of Star’s muted, tinny sound and dug out my bluetooth speaker to perch next to me. What a relief of musical release.

I stayed at the Carolyn Beach Inn, which to my delight had a king bed, microwave, and shower (considering I was initially planning to sleep in my car, those little features were beyond luxurious in my eyes). I slept better than I had in a long time, finally able to relax after weeks of waking up with packing lists and to-do’s swirling in my head.

A morning walk on the shores of Lake Huron at the Carolyn Beach Inn

In the morning, I started what would become my routine for the next four days: 10-minute meditation, 10-minute workout, shower, breakfast, coffee, roll out my hands and feet with a self massager to work out the driving kinks. I’m proud of myself for sticking with it, given I could have just said fuck it and shifted to getting-there mode. Every night I did a 15-minute bedtime yoga routine (thank you @charliefollows) and laid on my bolster to open up my chest and shoulders. Another essential part of my pre-bed routine was FaceTiming my parents to let them know I was alive, and to see their loving, smiling faces. I’m endlessly grateful for their encouragement through this journey.

Day 2: Thessalon - Thunder Bay ON

17 all day

People had warned me Ontario goes on forever, but so what? It’s a beautiful drive lined with huge rocks and views over our Great Lakes. Thankfully, I love driving. I find it meditative, it feels like an accomplishment, and it’s a treat for my eyes if there’s new and varied scenery surrounding me. That said, I was very much in “get there” mode on Thursday, especially with a long stretch of the 17 with no services or gas stations. I did pull over at one stunning lookout over Lake Superior near Thunder Bay, with some big beautiful Ontario granite and shale formations. The deciduous trees were mostly bare, but some golden birches and bright red winterberry trees still punctuated the landscape with their pops of colour.

Moody vibes at a viewpoint overlooking Lake Superior

If I’d timed it right, I could have made it to another viewpoint for a golden orange sunset, but alas I watched it from a hilltop gas station in Terrace Bay; not a bad second option. As I drove towards my nighttime destination, I realized with sadness that, once again, I was missing one of the most scenic stretches due to darkness: passing through Nipigon and multiple provincial parks, where I’m sure cliffside views would have stopped me in my roadside tracks.

I had no choice but to carry on, and my exhaustion prevented me from caring too much. The last stretch of driving into Thunder Bay was a boring, straight highway, so I was relieved to arrive at Haven Hostel in the city. It was definitely the most aesthetically pleasing and friendliest stop, which was a nice contrast to my preconceived notions of Thunder Bay. Not to overshadow that reality — Thunder Bay is the murder capital of Canada, and an overwhelming majority of those killed are Indigenous. The city is notoriously corrupt at all levels of government, and the lived realities of women sex workers are harrowing. For an intro to the stark injustices of city, read Tanya Talaga’s Seven Fallen Feathers and listen to the Thunder Bay podcast by Canadaland (I detest Canadaland and Jesse Brown for their overt Zionist bias and anti-Palestinian racism, but Thunder Bay remains strong investigative journalism).

Having checked in and unloaded my well-organized nighttime belongings, I picked up some naan at FreshCo to accompany my navratan korma. While eating in the communal kitchen, I chatted with one of the guys working at the hostel who’d come to Thunder Bay from India to study HR but didn’t seem thrilled about his decision. I wish I’d had the energy to dive deeper, but I was fading fast. I’m not used to this kind of travel; usually I’m all about taking my time, meeting people, and saying “yes.”

But, another deep sleep in a real bed awaited, so I said yes to diving into that instead.

Day 3: Thunder Bay ON - Winnipeg MB

17 > 1

Ok, so Ontario truly goes on forever. It still took nearly all of today to leave my home province, and I was ready to say goodbye by the end of it. My day was made longer because I couldn’t shake the latent FOMO of last night’s drive. I decided to backtrack an hour east to a viewpoint in Sleeping Giant Provincial Park. When else was I going to drive this route? What if I decided to shortcut through the States next time? What if I died? A scenic drive through birch tree-lined windy roads brought me to the park, and then a turnoff led me to the viewpoint’s trail which was…closed. Gated off, 9km away. Google either lied and neglected to specify that “open 24 hours” was a seasonal schedule, or I had shitty luck and it happened to be closed for maintenance. Persistent, I kept driving until I reached the next viewpoint, which was open, but didn’t contain the dramatic, staggering cliffside drops of my dreams. I did see the Sleeping Giant through the clouds, which was special enough, but I can’t say the two-hour detour was worth it.

Oh well, on I went, cruising that boring stretch of highway once more. Thankfully, I had M’s company on the phone, which made it far less boring. Along the drive through even farther north Ontario, I passed many signs protesting potential nuclear waste burial in Revell Lake, between Ignace and Dryden. Like with so many environmental controversies, companies are sinisterly sneaking around regulations and enticing Indigenous communities with jobs and fluff to give the impression they’ve done their due diligence to amicably destroy our Earth. Read more about this developing issue and the work of We the Nuclear Free North, and keep an eye out for petitions and actions*.

*Just after I wrote this, on November 28 the decision was made to build the site in the township of Ignace. Blah.

As in most parts of the province, construction is rampant. I passed by three workers, sitting on chairs atop a roadside hill, holding handmade paper signs that simply said “on strike” and “worker’s rights” — at least that’s what I could see in my drive-by glance. I honked my horn in support and immediately burst into tears. It touched me deeply that this small crew was taking a stand, in such a gentle and earnest way. And it broke my heart that barely anyone would see them on this road relatively less travelled. But I can only hope that they get the rights they — and all workers — deserve. I’m happy that Star’s inaugural horn honk (with me, at least) was out of love and not rage.

Construction also stopped me for what seemed like 20 minutes, but it was in a sunny spot — rare for that day — by a lake, so I was less bothered that it was holding up my very needed afternoon coffee run. I rolled my windows and sunroof open, enjoying the fresh air. In a magical moment, my speakers started blaring with heavy bass. WTF? Turns out the bluetooth is very much 2011-quality, but plugging in my phone revives Star’s sound impotence beautifully. I was overjoyed to find this missing piece of her perfection.

I finally made it to the Kenora Tim’s for my long-awaited coffee. Given the many gorgeous lakes I’d driven by but neglected to stop and enjoy, I felt it necessary to take a moment by the water to caffeinate and watch the sun dip down on the horizon. The waterfront park wasn’t the peaceful, pine-lined shore I’d hoped for. There were many folks there who had seen better days (or sadly, maybe not), including someone being rolled away on a stretcher. I weakly smiled in their direction, trying to convey empathy, but what good would it do? I kept my distance as I made my hotel reservation for the night, feeling helpless and guilty, and tried to appreciate the contrasted beauty of the sky changing colours; taking some solace in a pastime that anyone can access, regardless of their living situation.

Sun setting over Kenora, my final stop in Ontario.

Realizing I was about to drive another beautiful stretch in the dark, I hustled to my car and drove off into the sunset. It was Friday, the night of the Full Moon in Taurus, and I was grateful for the 50km speed limit as I glanced around to try and find her. As I turned a bend, there she was, a faintly orange glowing orb out my rightside windows, rising above the tree line. Another bend in the road and again I was west-facing, Luna reflected in my drivers side mirror, both the sunset and moonrise in my sightline. As Bruce Cockburn’s Hills of Morning twinkled through my revived speakers, I beamed almost as bright as the Moon. It was a perfectly poetic farewell-for-now to the province I’ve always called home.

Moonrise and sunset both in sight as I take my last glimpse of my home province.

I didn’t even clock the moment I entered Manitoba, my only indications of a new province being the changed icons on provincial park signs and cheap gas prices ($1.21!!). Driving, again, mostly in the dark, I didn’t get a sense of the scenery. Even after only three days on the road, entering the cityscape of Winnipeg was slightly overwhelming, with its skyscrapers and bright lights. That said, my brief drive through downtown was quite pleasant; old buildings exuded charm and only mild gentrification. The charm was lacking in my fairly depressing choice of motel on the outskirts of downtown, but the wow-factor of having a tropical view out my window more than made up for it.

Oceanview room at the Winnipeg Travelodge

With Dad’s generous gift of a nice dinner, I found Pho Huang, a raved-about Vietnamese restaurant close by. A hot bowl of rare beef pho was the perfect post-drive comfort food, and I savoured the luxury of an effortless meal. Afterwards, I found a pile of garbage to sit upon and moongaze. Seriously — Westview park is built on an old landfill, verifying that the rotten scent I smelled wasn’t in my head. It’s actually a pretty awesome place; the hill gives a unique 360 view of the city, and the light of the Full Moon cast lovely shadows on the trees. For the first (and only) time on my trip, I took a hit of my weed vape to better connect with my heart and soul, selected some crystals, and burned some moon incense gifted by M, my Moon, in part to mask the stank. I reflected and journaled on the themes of this Taurean moon — transitions, redefining home, shedding outgrown routines and relationships, connecting with purpose — and basked in her powerful glow. The relevance and potency of this Moon felt so magically aligned. Not a bad Saturday night at all.

The Full Moon in Taurus casting shadows on Garbage Hill.

Day 4: Winnipeg MB - Maple Creek SK

1 > 21

The Prairies aren’t that flat. Before embarking on this adventure, I’d pictured a straight, endless road, surrounded by golden wheat fields, clear cut by bright blue sky, for ten nonstop hours. But there are bends in the road, even hills! And this day the sky was a thick, dense cover of clouds, so my dreams of experiencing endless sky were crushed, as were the ones of seeing the sunset and full moonrise on the razor’s edge of horizon. Despite the lack of literal flatness, the changes in landscape, traffic, and road conditions were minimal, so cruise control became my best friend (thanks for the reminder, Uncle Pete!).

I was lucky to spend most of the day on the phone, chatting with my sister, having a thorough life catchup with J, and comforting M the day before she was set to do one of the hardest things imaginable. Enzo, the first dog I’ve ever loved, needed a new home outside the city without the hectic energy and masses of people to fuel his reactivity. It’s only now, in hindsight, that I’ve realized what parallel journeys we were both on.

Three of my dearest loves: Enzo, Ontario peaches, and 417 Brunswick. July, 2022

In the midst of these chats — sometimes choppy and dropped because, Canada cell service — came the snow. I was expecting snow in the mountains, but wasn’t as ready for it in the prairies. My car was a star (hence her name), and together we slowly made our way through what looked like whiteout conditions, but in reality there was just nothing else to disrupt the view.

Thankfully the precarious conditions only lasted a couple of hours (I think — time isn’t very defined on these long drives), and by the time I had to choose my stop for the night, I felt confident to pick the farther option in Maple Creek — meaning if all went well tomorrow, I might be able to make it to Nelson!

Driving off from my gas stop, the cloud cover dissipated and I was treated to a thin strip of sunset afterglow that seemed to last forever as I drove westward bound right into it. As I was chatting with L, I caught a glimpse of the Moon out my rear passenger side window. Not wanting to interrupt our conversation — or worry her that I wasn’t keeping my eyes on the road — I didn’t cry out in the excitement that I wanted to. Though I’d missed her rise, when Harvest Moon came on shuffle I took it as my sign to pull over on the barely-there shoulder and marvelled at the fullness of Luna in the vast open sky, painted with a thin veil of faintly sparkling stars. I can only imagine the glittery scene in the darkness of a New Moon.

Promise I’m a safe driver 95% of the time. Saskatchewan.

I pulled up to the Willowbend motel just before 8, the time the receptionist had warned me her doors would close. A basic motel with thoughtful details (like providing dark towels for “dirty things”), the woman working didn’t seem at all affected that I was there, good or bad. I didn’t inquire into the judgey face she made when I told her I was moving to Nelson, and quietly retreated to my room to eat palak paneer and watch John Oliver. It was here I said a goodbye to Enzo over FaceTime, who was happily gnawing on his new green ball as I choked back tears.

Day 5: Maple Creek SK - NELSON BC!!!

21 > 3 > 3a

Going back in time was certainly my friend today. I woke up at 6, which was still my body’s 7. With a winter storm warning for the Kootenay Pass, and I figured the earlier I got near Nelson, the more likely I was to miss the snow or be able to wait it out. I’d planned to forgo my morning routine; just eat and go to save as much time as possible, but I quickly realized that 30 minutes of meditation and exercise would certainly do me more good than rushing, and how much of a difference would it make anyway?

So, it still took me my standard 2 hours from waking up to hitting the road, but an 8am start wasn’t too bad, in my books. I was surprised at the early ETA of 3:20, but figured mountain driving would certainly take extra. Nope — Google was accurate, I just forgot I was still two time zones away. I talked to M and L as they drove their 3 hours to Enzo’s potential new home and was grateful to be there for M as much as I possibly could.

Goodest Boy Enzo on his rehoming road trip.

The morning sun from behind shone an interesting light on the golden fields and dark sky ahead of me, also glowing up the Moon. I soon crossed the border into Alberta, and filled up at the cheapest gas option in the first row of stations. According to the extensively descriptive signage, this feat of frugality had caused intense rifts and rivalries with the neighbouring station owners. I made nervous small talk with the slightly intimidating attendant, not sure if what I’d put in my tank was legitimate, but gave him the kindness of empathy for his neighbourhood struggles.

Prairie moon over Alberta. Or was it Saskatchewan?

On I went, Alberta looking pretty similar to Saskatchewan and Manitoba at that point. I was aiming for the start of Crowsnest Pass, the entry point to the mountains, moments of truth to be discovered. When I finally saw the faint outline of the Rockies in the distance, I howled with joy, my eyes delighted.

At my second gas fill-up (and potentially my last “cheap” gas — i.e., under $1.63), I stopped at Tim’s and treated myself to a bagel BELT to fuel up for the potentially gruelling drive. I also caught potentially my last rays of sun for months, basking in them through the rolled down window in the anything-but-scenic parking lot.

“Here I go.” Mountain driving was off to a steady and slow start; making my way through the town of Crowsnest at 50km/h. It was wet and misty, but completely manageable. I marvelled at the pine-lined slopes I’d come to adore, and nervous/excited butterflies filled me up. Crossing into B.C. and seeing familiar fonts on roadside signage made my heart flutter with familiarity. Also filling my heart was a call from Mom, filling me with relief that she was slowing down and enjoying life.

I got to Creston around 2pm, where I had to decide whether to carry on or not. I called M & L for an update, learning that Enzo was now with his new family. Listening to them recount the events of the day, it was clearly the right choice, and I was happy that M felt so, deeply. It looked like Enzo and I would share a “rehoming” day. With the weather forecast on my side, I called Mom back to let her know my plan to forge ahead, slowly, of course.

One more fill-up for the final stretch and I drove off into the daunting Kootenay Pass. But daunting it was not. Slightly slushy, I rolled slow but close to the speed limit, trying not to get distracted by the insane scenery lining the winding cliffside road. Deep green pines dotted with a few lingering golden larch — I’m sad I missed the season — turned into snow-dusted tree tops and winter wonderland magic as I elevated.

Looking forward to these views on a frequent basis

Driving closer to Nelson, recognizing where I was, felt like a true homecoming. As I rolled into town around 4:20, a song named ‘Estrellitas’ came on shuffle, further solidifying Star’s name. I had no hope that I’d get here on Sunday, never mind in perfect time for an event I’d dearly hoped to attend; an artist collective’s calendar launch party with music and poetry, fundraising for humanitarian aid in Palestine and Lebanon.

I had just enough time to meet my new “landlord”/neighbour, move my stuff in, take a quick shower, breathe, dig out my keffiyeh, and head over. The patio of Red Light Ramen was filled with glowing hearts and souls, silent as Z recited a poem I recognized from her appearance at the Moonflower Halloween party I’d attended just over a year before; the night I essentially decided to move to Nelson. I caught A’s eye and smiled big, and recognized a few faces in the crowd. During a break, A and I embraced fully but quickly, as he rushed off to who knows where. I reunited with some Palestine solidarity comrades, and a couple other pals I’d met on dance floors in the spring.

Butternut squash miso ramen was the perfect accompaniment to meeting companions old and new. The readings and music continued through the night. T sang a song for Beirut that absolutely sucked the air from the room in the most bone-chilling but heartwarming way. None of us were the same after.

I was in bed by 8:30 and slept like a rock. I’m writing this exactly one week since I’ve been here, on a day my heart has soared from the full spectrum of emotions and magic that have rained (snowed) down on me this week. I have arrived, I am home, for now.

Truckin' to Nelson