Aight, so this edition of The Pickup Truck Diaries comes to you fresh from the Red Deer Alberta Montana’s, because I really wanted Steak and Eggs. (Unfortunately, they only had the Steak.)
Well, we got halfway there at least. And my lavishness means I’m definitely treating this trip like my own little vacation!
See, road trips are a bit of a thing for me, as most of my childhood vacations were all road trips with a few notable exceptions, like the months I spent at my aunt’s place in Kauai as a kid. Be it driving down stateside along the Interstate to California, or out East through the Rockies for any one of a dozen family trips out to Alberta and Saskatchewan to visit family in tiny farming towns like Theodore, road trips are this piece of Americana and Canadiana that I don’t think will ever die.
Nor do I think they should, honestly.
Most kids who grew up either in poverty or middle class in North America know them well, and I’m constantly fascinated by how foreign the concept is to all my Commonwealth and European friends. One of them had never had a wood-burning fire when camping before! It goes back to that common theme that keeps coming up in The Pickup Truck Diaries – the poverty, wealth, and economics of actual living people in actual lived environments.
See, there ain’t much in terms of cheap vacations for poorer folks, aside from burning some gasoline or diesel and heading off on camping trips across the land, seeing the sights and witnessing the people and landmarks.
Already on this short jaunt from British Columbia over to Alberta, I’ve seen some spectacles and had some fun little adventures, which are rather tame by my own personal histories! But that doesn’t make them not worthwhile. In fact, with my weird partial eidetic memory, I don’t think I’ll forget some of them for the rest of my life.
Beyond merely the norm too – the majestic and impressive rockies or natural magnificence of the eons old geologies and ancient forests. The herd of mountain goats some twenty large, using the manmade bike paths in a lineup through the rockies like silly tourists, or the orb web spider, Hank, that lives in my driver’s side mirror, who got so frazzled by being hauled out to Alberta that he freaked out and made his web inside my steering wheel in Revelstoke, likely due to the haze of wildfire smoke.
I saw darker truths, like the smouldering patches along the Coquihalla, threatening to erupt again.
The lake country of the Okanagan, pushing through Peachland and Kelowna to Revelstoke to avoid the Covid-19 hotspot popping up there in BC’s bible belt.
The two women and their pilot truck, wearing orange, holding an eagle feather and walking along the highway outside of Golden to raise awareness for the innocent children murdered by residential schools.
(I’m with you ladies. I didn’t want to honk in case it was seen as rude, but I’m with you, 100%.)
Thank you for doing that.
All of the above is proof the world is still here.
That means the world isn’t over yet, folks.
Not if I have anything to say about this looming climate apocalypse on all our hands.
When I finally got to Revelstoke, I wandered out for a smoke and ended up at a little westernized chinese restaurant called Hong Kong Kitchen or some such little mom & pop shop.
Unfortunately I also showed up an hour before they closed, definitely smelling of weed and being “that guy.” But even small interactions like ordering enough food for breakfast in the morning, and tipping 50% for the hassle, they all keep me going. I’m trying to lean into the concepts of things like mutual aid and in paying it forward as much as I can.
See, road trips are a bit sacred in some strange ways. Be it the dad who wants to take their kids camping and take them back to the simple life, or the family that packs themselves into a minivan and treks across the continent to see other ways of life. They all hang upon this fundamental truth: Stagnation is deadly to the self.
Seeing the world is important for a holistic education, and even if families can’t afford the jet-setting lifestyle of flying to Mexico or to Europe willy-nilly, getting out of your own environment and broadening your horizons is crucial to development and worldview.
Learning the simple skills of wilderness camping is important, even! If only to remind us of the simple things in life that we take for granted as luxuries without even thinking twice about them.
For example, how would I know I hated LA so much as a fake veneer of glamour, one coating an enormous struggle for many, unless I had travelled there a bunch of times and seen that struggle and poverty for myself? (San Diego is still my darling of California of course, as I’ve never yet been to San Fran!)
Hell, one of the highlights of the trip has been the most basic shit. The privacy of a single room with nobody to bother you. An AC unit to keep cool as somebody who is eternally burning up and sweating like a pig. Good food from local spots made with skill and care. Having a smoke and a stroll in a new town, having a lookie-loo while sipping on a slurpee. Eating Runts candy in a comfortable King sized bed all to yourself. Listening to my Something Wicked podcast or singing my “SINGALONG” Carpool Karaoke Spotify playlist while driving the winding roads through the mountain passes.
I made a joke on Instagram before I left, that I was dressing like Jimmy Buffet and dreaming of Margaritaville and Cheeseburgers in paradise. But upon reflection, I don’t need gold-flecked caviar or the finest champagne.
All I need to be happy is a patio in the sun, drinking coffee and having a good bullshit with people I care about. And hell, a margarita or a good cheeseburger would indeed only sweeten the deal. Or a nice glass of whiskey and a blunt of course. Not that I drink much anymore outside of those few craft beers on The Brewery every Monday.
I find our society here in North America, and globalized society at large, cares about the spectacle rather than the experience. A good example is Social Media. I’m using Instagram more for pictures as it can still auto post to Twitter, but I find the things I’m taking pictures of are the things that make me happy for myself. And then I’m trying to shove some education or reflection in the body of the post as always.
But I’m never doing it for the fucking clout or the followers! Fuck that!
God damn, any of you that follow me on Twitter know that I’ve shit on the social media game a lot, and I’m pretty honest about how much I despise marketing, as much as I acknowledge it as a necessary evil of being a public figure.
But the need to prove yourself as popular by living that influencer lifestyle – taunting the general public with your high-falutin lifestyle? I fucking hate it. I want that culture to die.
I mean, why can’t we just exist? Live and enjoy the small shit like good food, good company and good art?
As I always do on trips like these, I do a lot of thinking, even as I’m belting it out in my truck or listening to my incredible castmates on the podcast making me laugh. And I think that’s one of the things I want to push for as we get closer and closer to The Marionette Man launching in July 2022, and as Something Wicked and our other Wicked & Fun Co. shows start taking off.
I want us to return to the human connection.
All of us.
Because even as I sit here in a fucking steakhouse writing this, I’m paying attention to how people engage with each other. How they interact and come to awareness of the world around them. The more we abstract ourselves from everyday living and from experiencing the world with open hearts and minds, the less human we become. We need to butt up against people who are different from us for our OWN growth. We don’t need more fake lifestyles on the internet purely to make ourselves feel good with metrics of likes, upvotes, or favorites.
Hell, if some of these really shitty drivers I’ve encountered in both provinces could even have two iotas of awareness of the people and the environment around us, we’d be winning, if only slightly!
Everyone should take a road trip or two in their life, if only to have an opposite to compare themselves and their everyday life to. If only to learn a little bit more around the world.
It’s one of the few things that poorer folks can still do, as the fucking billionaires soar overhead on three flights a week in their private jets.
Get out, see the world. Learn how other people live, and witness how they engage with the world themselves.
Time for me to do the same, as I need to get back on the road! Hank’s probably freaking out again without me.
Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.
-McRae
