When we began to talk about getting off the road to begin a family and a more predictable lifestyle, I was struck with this thought, “I wonder if I contacted the magazine that got me going on this career path if they would be interested in writing a story about me and my wife?” Sure enough, they were all over it – but didn’t have a journalist free who could come interview and write the story. And really now, where would they stay? Our bunk was just big enough for my wife and I. Good thing my wife has a penchant for writing!
I spoke to the owner of the company we were working for at the time, Jeff Hall of J&R Hall, Ayr, Ontario. I presented him with the idea of getting a trip arranged that would begin in St John’s, NFLD and take us right clear across the country to Victoria, BC, and then writing the story for the TRUCK magazine. He loved the idea and gave me the go-ahead to speak to the dispatchers who would arrange our schedule. I was so excited! What an opportunity! What a way to put the exclamation mark to the end of this chapter of my life.
A few weeks later, we found ourselves in St John, NFLD. After taking care of deliveries, we decided to make the most of the short free time we did have. We bob-tailed down to the harbour and enjoyed a short walk on Water Street, the oldest street in North America. After a look in Downhomer, the famous Newfoundland gift/souvenir shop, we walked up to the famed George Street and enjoyed a traditional Newfie meal – which included Battered Cod Tongue and Cheeks at Bridie Molloy’s Pub, only steps away from Mile 1 of the Trans Canada Hwy, which runs a total of 7, 821 kms west across Canada.
The following day we began our journey west, picking up 52 bales of peat moss at a bog near Great Falls-Windsor, NFLD. The drive across the province of Newfoundland was amazing! The landscape, the wildflowers, the history was so much to take in. Neither of us had been that far east before and we promised ourselves we’d come back with the kids one day so we could stop and take it all in. Nearing Port Au Basques, we drove through the Wreckhouse – a stretch of highway that is notorious for its wind – it has even blown over fully loaded semis and trains! Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately – it would have made a great story!) no such excitement awaited us that night.
