by Rick Ranson
If I see him after a couple of years, I might be able to remember his first name. I’ll introduce myself and smile a weak smile. We’ll talk awkwardly, and both of us will be glad when we have to go someplace, away.
Longer than that, the man’s name will disappear into that fog of time and travel.
I let up on the gas pedal. I thought, “Why push it? Where do I have to be?”
I thought I might rent a room in that Alberta border town where I stayed once. The house faced into the sun, dug into a bald hill with parallel lines sawed into it by the hooves of generations of cattle. The back room of that apartment had dark curtains and a wide-screen TV, and smelt faintly of bleach over mould. But it was cheap and warm, and the owner was friendly.
But really? This truck is home.
Journeys cleanse you. The longer and more arduous the trip, the more you are purified. The rumble of the engine’s cylinders and the wind in the windows washed away the smells, sounds, and feelings of Fort McMurray. Except to fill the tank, I didn’t need much of an excuse to just keep right on driving.
This truck is home.
When the Greek gods finished toying with that ancient Jason, they told him to pick up an oar from his ship, the Argo, and carry it far inland.
Once he had walked far enough away from the sea he would meet a man on the road who had never seen the ocean. When the passerby asked him what manner of spear he carried, the gods instructed Jason to immediately plant that oar in the ground. From that oar, an olive tree would grow, the oil of which would sustain Jason for the rest of his life.
I’m finished with Fort McMurray, for now. I’m driving south. When I’m at a motel or a gas station and a passer-by casually asks me why I have an electrical cord coming out of my truck’s grill, I’ll stop.
Also by Rick Ranson
Working North:
DEW Line to Drill Ship
978-1-896300-73-3
In the off hours of jobs in the Arctic, workers have a choice: to gamble, drink, or watch mind-numbing television. Ranson chose to write letters home describing the daily events from his experiences working on drill ships, construction sites, and DEW Line radar stations in the Arctic. Working North is a collection of these fascinating stories. The tales told by Ranson include staking out a polar bear, reviving a deserted ship, conflicts with racist coworkers, and welding in the bowels of a sinking ship.
Paddling South: Winnipeg to New Orleans by Canoe
978-1-897126-23-3
In the Fall of 1969, Rick Ranson and John Van Landeghem, both barely out of high school, took on the might of the Red and Mississippi Rivers to paddle a canoe from Winnipeg, Manitoba, to New Orleans, Louisiana. Combining high drama with hilarity, Ranson tells how the duo ducked bullets in St. Louis, avoided a whirlpool, worked on a Mississippi tow boat, sailed a yacht through a barge-congested Cairo, IL, and spent a few days in the Fargo City Jail, all while meeting an eclectic array of unforgettable characters. Paddling South tells the incredible tale of how they survived the three month trip on the often treacherous rivers, beset by snow storms, hurricanes, monstrous waves, and unseen dams.
“His story is incredibly intriguing and entertaining, filled with plenty of entertaining characters. A solid and hilarious story about two friends right out of high school, Paddling South is one of the most entertaining memoirs one could find.”
~ Midwest Book Review
