Did a switch in Regina with Rubhouse last night. It was a great day on the prairies, didn't see a cloud in the sky all day. Rolled into Regina around supper time, fueled then drove around the parking lot at the doghouse a few times looking for some space to drop my wagon. That place is a dump. Regina is in desperate need of some truck stop upgrades. So, that done, I pounded on Rubbie's door and got him out of the bunk, figured he had to get heading east. I was wrong. Like me he had to kill a few hours to keep his book pretty and all his ducks in a row. We headed over to Horton's for a soup and a sandwich.
I always enjoy shooting the breeze with Rub. He was one of the first drivers I met that first month I started running here - man, almost 7 years now! - he came banging on my door when I was sitting at the Headingley Husky. Ha ha, I thought he was a local truck stop huckster looking to sell me some wares when he first jumped up on the running board. Too funny that. Rub's always got a story, he's happy, easy to talk to and he's got at least nine lives :). So we spent an hour or two catching up and solving the problem's of the world before we jumped back into it.
Back in the truck the irony of my rest break sets in. It's full dark now and it's a 3 hour jaunt up to Saskatoon. I'm feeling pretty tired but according to the wisdom of the hours of service gods I'm rested and good to go. So I go. It is a pretty night for a drive after all.
I left the lights of Regina behind me and my thoughts turned to Deb. We celebrated our 31st anniversary yesterday. I phoned her before pulling out of the Husky. It's our standard routine. Every evening around the same time she receives my call. As long as she hears my voice and knows I'm still kicking she can rest for the night. It's easy to forget the stress this job puts on the people we care about most. I never miss making those daily calls. I need those daily calls as much as Deb does, probably more so. I lose myself in warm memories. An hour has passed as I approach the town of Chamberlain. I am brought back to the present moment with the need to slow down, drop some gears, ease through town. The town is asleep. I'm starting to feel that way myself and wonder if I should have joined the truckers parked in Chamberlain. Too late now, I've already found the big hole and I'm back up to speed.
I try to get off the road each day by midnight and put myself in the bunk. I know I am more alert and far more engaged in the present moment during the day. At night, in the dark, even my well rested mind wants to spend time within itself. Outside stimuli don't grab my attention in the same way as they do in the full light of day. Sensory deprivation? Who knows. Maybe I'm just funny that way. That been said, driving at night holds a strange attraction for me. Last night the desolation of the prairies deserved a quiet cab and a quiet mind. I just sort of slipped through the night. There was a lot of coyotes out there last night. Just watching me. Strange.
The lights of Davidson appear on the horizon. They are incredibly bright tonight. Wait, that's not just Davidson. The northern lights are making an appearance. A long strip of soft light stretched from the town of Davidson off to the northeast and out of my sight. The ribbon of light just above the horizon with the intensity of a soft aura. The beautiful thing about the northern lights is that they are alive. It's a phenomena that is not static. The light moves and pulses and grows. Sometimes for hours, at other times for short bursts. To the northeast a burst of pulsing light broke out, now with a whole ribbon of light at it's base stretching from the town of Davidson in front of me off to the east and out of my sight. Awesome. As I move through Davidson the light fades with an occasional soft pulse as I continued north to Saskatoon.
The last hour of my drive is a battle with fatigue. Staying focused is an effort. The northern lights put on a final show for me just south of Saskatoon. Two in the morning sees me crawl between the sheets. It was a good night.
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