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Dabblings

Wow! That's taking the long way to Cowtown! Canada's TransCanada highway is a funny one. Only one road west/east up there. It's just a simple two-way traffic rural road in places. I'm surprised they even bothered to pave it. Watch out for moose.
 
Oh yeah ! We did it and had a figgin BLAST ! Beautiful wide open spaces . I'm ready to do it again this year going out in July .
 
Susquatch said:
Wow! That's taking the long way to Cowtown! Canada's TransCanada highway is a funny one. Only one road west/east up there. It's just a simple two-way traffic rural road in places. I'm surprised they even bothered to pave it. Watch out for moose.
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When I hauled deck freight across Canada I avoided the Trans, The Yellowhead is always in better shape and maintained better in snow.
 
Ironman said:
When I hauled deck freight across Canada I avoided the Trans, The Yellowhead is always in better shape and maintained better in snow.
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Ya, but unless something has changed recently, the Yellow head doesn't go East beyond Winnipeg. But I agree it's a better route. I always preferred it too - even in summer!
 
Susquatch said:
Ya, but unless something has changed recently, the Yellow head doesn't go East beyond Winnipeg. But I agree it's a better route. I always preferred it too - even in summer!
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Yes, it stops at the edge of the Republic. From there Highway 11 , rough as hell, but the best way across Ontario, and if you thrive of insane traffic you can connect to the southern part through highway 400. Then off into wonderland, northern Quebec. Always found it the most difficult part of the journey(some of it because of weird rules on oversize loads) and after that the eastern provinces are very welcoming and like home.
 
Greywynd said:
One thing I believe is that every Canadian should do the road trip across Canada at least once in their lives.
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Done it once but not all the way.

From Calgary in 1971, stuck out my thumb all the way to Ottawa to meet up with a girl I'd met at the Scout Canada's 1st National Venturer's Conference. We were pen pals right up to a year after high school. Got to ride in a Lotus Elan. Took the bus with her to Montreal to see "Man and His World" Exhibit. Slept at the side of the road inside the Ontario border. On the beach of Lake Superior on the US side. On the way back picked up between Moose Jaw and Regina and went up to about halfway to Saskatoon. There spent a week working building metal farm buildings. On the weekend into Saskatoon. From there home to Edmonton with a couple of British guys who were returning a rental car to Vancouver.

So sad that this sort of thing is now considered so dangerous. Back then buses picked up hitch hikers outside Winnipeg city limits and dropped them off downtown. Slept in a high school gym with co-ed washrooms. Next morning a bus to the other side of Winnipeg and we all lined up with our thumbs up for the next part of the trip.


Have yet to see Atlantic Canada.
Edit: Changed year to 1971. Calculation error in my head the first time.
 
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jcdammeyer said:
Got to ride in a Lotus Elan.
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Yes that was a different time. When i lived in Willowdale (in the early 60’s) my friend and went to the CNE alone - he was 13 and I was 12.
In 1990 I found a 1970 Elan that was in much need of some love. Lots of effort, but I got it to near showroom condition. That was a wonderful little car. It was from a different era in so many ways.
 
If this is road trip story telling time- the worst trip I ever took was down to Texas, to rescue a family member. I had it all planned out to be as cheap as possible, but then events got bumped a month sooner. Took a Greyhound from southern Ontario, down to Detroit, over to Atlanta Georgia, down to Mississippi and across to Houston. 48 straight hours....non-stop except for driver breaks or bus changes...48 hours....

Not knowing better, had to scramble to get from the greyhound terminal to the airport. On reading week (March break). Tagged along with a random family as they cut the line to make the flight. Flew down to Brownsville TX. Spent the night, hooked up the trailer, drove 4-5 days back to Ontario.

Got BACK on a greyhound, had a 1 am layover in Toronto. Went for a couple beverages at a seedy Toronto bar. Crawled off the greyhound bus at 6 am or so and went to bed

Never again....
 
Sorry I have another conundrum...

Someone texted me a time limited message, and it went away. It was pictures for a meetup between St Catherines and Niagara-on-the-lake. but I cannot remember the phone number it was from!

If you sent me pictures about meeting at a Tims east of St Kits, please call or message again!
 
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Dabbler said:
It was pictures for a meetup between St Catherines and Niagara-on-the-lake.
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This explains our phone call mixup. It was indeed East of StKits as you kept saying, but not Welland which is west - but rather Niagara on the Lake which is indeed East.
 
Greywynd said:
One thing I believe is that every Canadian should do the road trip across Canada at least once in their lives. I’ve done most of it a few times, and still see new stuff each time.

Tentative plans to drive east to Ontario again this summer actually.
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I've done it by train. Halifax to Toronto in 1953. Wooden seats, no food, steam locomotive. I wasn't Canadian at the time.
Then Toronto to Vancouver in 200x on The Canadian. Quite comfortable. Definitely as a Canadian then.
 
1963, my family moving from Toronto to Ashcroft, BC. My Dad bought a 1958 International Travelall surplus from Civil Defence. Mom, Dad, one year-old younger brother, me age 6, older sister age 8, next older brother age 10, all our clothes, and various toys. Kids are restless, it’s August and hotter than Hades, and Dad has decided that for this trip we’ll drive the Northern US route. Typhoid warnings on telephone poles. We’re just outside of Cat Asshole Nebraska, us three older kids are fighting over who gets the window, and little one is crying. Travelall has three rows of bench seats, second row has the door and all our stuff, kids are in the back row. Truck pops out of gear, and so does my Dad. We roll to the side of the road. Dad stomps around to the front of the truck, lifts the hood, reconnects the shift linkage for the 100th time. Stomps around to the side door, grabs all our possessions and dumps them on the side of the road. Now he has access to the rear seat. Swats all of us. Stomps back to the drivers door, gets in, starts the truck, and we’re off to Ashcroft again.

I hope someone in Nebraska recovered our stuff and some little kid got to play with our toys.

We get to Ashcroft, arrive a day before the Mayflower moving van. It shows up, and as the movers are carrying my mother’s brand new Kenmore range up the front steps, one of them trips and they drop the range down six steps, destroying it. No such thing as moving insurance in 1963.
 
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