ROAD TEST: A DOGGIE ADVENTURE (PAGE

ROAD TEST: A DOGGIE ADVENTURE

By Teresa Patterson

WHAT HAPP E N S WHEN A SINGLE WOMAN OF A CERTAIN AGE LOADS HER VAN WITH FOOD, PROVISIONS, TWO DOGS AND SETS OUT FOR A ROAD TRIP SHE’LL NEVER FORGET? ALL IS REVEALED HERE… DAY 2: LET’S DO THE TWIST

I start my journey on a rainy Sunday, May 2 in a 2008 Dodge Grand Caravan departing from middle Kentucky (Ky.). The first day is really about stopping to see a few friends. Although this adds almost 1000 miles to the overall trip it is definitely worth the time and effort. I also learn that the GPS I use really hasn’t caught up to some of the road improvements made in Kentucky and Tennessee. So I spent extra time going in circles; always fun in the rain. Finally, with the help of a friend in Paducah Ky., I find the way out of there and get back on track toward Mississippi.

Tennessee is another challenge. I have to go through Memphis and they are upgrading roads as well. So I get lost and have a lovely tour of Beele St., which honestly is kind of cool. I run a couple of red lights, oops, but get back on track eventually without any tickets, and am en route to Collins, Ms.. I arrive without incident, spend the night with friends, and continue on my journey next morning.

I stop and get gas and coffee at a little station on Highway 84W in Mississippi, not far from where I spent the night. This is my third fill-up and all at under $3 bucks a gallon: not bad. Buy some water for the dogs, and reset my GPS so I don’t have to go through the center of Texas. This takes me back north but actually saves time. There’s more rain the second day too.

I go through Louisiana without stopping and make it through Dallas. On the other side of Dallas I start seeing signs saying tornado watch in this area. I keep driving. The rain starts getting harder. The next sign says tornado warning area. I pass a couple of them. I have somebody check for me and they say the tornado is really close to my location. About then the hail starts. I take a ramp and all the traffic in front of me is under the overpass. I think, holy crap, and say a quick prayer. I get as close to the stopped traffic as I can; a tanker is next to me, and I wait for it to pass. I guess the twister either goes over or behind us. I later hear two people have been killed in the tornado the next day. Nonetheless, I keep driving even though I’m shaken up. I stop in a small town toward the western end of Texas to sleep because my nerves are shot; I even forget the name of the town. I call someone and tell them where I am, “just in case.” I sleep in the van with my dogs. One of the dogs is a 10-month-old, 70lb American terrier that loves me so I’m not worried about anybody messing with me. If you’re wondering why I make this trip with my dogs I’m happy to explain it. I found myself in a marriage I wanted out of, in a hometown I was tired of being in. Most people follow their dreams when they are young and carefree. I do things backwards. I always wanted to move out west but was busy raising kids and doing the stuff that makes us put our dreams away to rust. Recently I have had opportunities to pull those dreams out and clean the rust off. I’ve had many dreams come true in the last year or so. This journey being one of them. My pup also being one. I’ve wanted a blue pittie for years and just hadn’t gotten around to it. My pup, Spirit, was meant to be mine. He is one of my traveling companions. I brought dog food but after the second day he discovers fast food and dog food is out. They may have eaten a couple bites of what was scattered all over the back seat of the van but cheeseburgers are the preferred meal. And fries…can’t forget those! Even my glass of

Coke is an option if he has half a chance!

My older, smaller dog pretty much sleeps. He’s on an adventure too! He also learns how to “open” the water I bought by chewing the handle of the gal bottles. When they get too low for that to work he just chews the bottles up. The first couple couple of times I’m rather amused. By the third day it’s rather annoying as I think I may need it going through the desert. Luckily I don’t.

Yes, the inside of the van is a bit of a mess but as I had purchased it from my daughter who has 4 kids that really isn’t a big deal. It still needs a good internal detailing to remove crayon marks and assorted sticky things I really prefer not to identify. I expect such behavior from him so don’t get too uptight about any of it. He’s a puppy after all, albeit a 70-pound one. Skeeter, my older dog basically sleeps through most of it because she’s been on smaller road trips and doesn’t get excited about such things. She’s just happy to be with me.

DAY 3: ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH

I start out at daylight and continue on. The skies are finally sunny! I get the rest of the way out of Texas and into New Mexico: Destination Roswell. Arrive fairly early. I don’t spend much time there but have to go through town so I can at least say I’ve been there! By then I am pretty much in “just want to get there” mode and the dogs are too, I think. I make it to Flagstaff to meet a friend on another planned stop, then onward toward California. I get some beautiful pictures of the sun setting in New Mexico. I also make really good time. Of course the fact I gained two hours of daylight doesn’t hurt either.

Driving through the mountains is something I’ve never been crazy about and the northwest part of New Mexico plus most of the way through California is crossing the mountains.

I want to get to my destination that night but it isn’t going to happen so I stop at an exit several trucks are taking and pull into the parking lot of a small gas station. When you’re traveling with a huge terrier and a little ankle biter you aren’t too worried about people bothering you. It isn’t the best choice however because he growls half the night and after I wake up to him standing over top of me and the smaller dog standing over my head both seriously growling at about 3 am, I decide to move on. I drive about 30 miles down the road and pull off in a small pull off area with three-or-four semis and go back to sleep until daylight. It’s quite peaceful there. I continue on my way.

DAY 4

It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining. I know I’m in California because it’s quite cool. One of the roads on my original route is under construction so the GPS directs me to a completely different route.

I really don’t mind although I think this adds a couple hundred more miles to my trip. But I see some really gorgeous scenery and other than one fill up I have to make in BFE at $4.59 a gallon, it’s a great trip.

More mountains. Lots more mountains but by now I’m site seeing so I just slow down and gawk with everybody else. Kentucky has mountains but California has mountains! They are gorgeous! I also have the pleasure of going through part of the Mojave desert on my adventure. I have a thing for deserts and really love that. The diversity of the US is really amazing and if I had taken more time and

explored each state in depth I know I would have found even more unique and amazing things. But I’m on a tight budget that I don’t go over. Thankfully, no trouble with the van either.

I add just a little water in Flagstaff, less than a quart to the reservoir. The oil is good, and after I unload the van I discover I have a back tire that could use a little air. The total mileage for my adventure is right around 3,000 miles, but you have to remember I went to Mississippi and had a detour in California. It costs around $500.00 including food to get here. I sleep in the van except the first night when I stay at my friend Lana’s in Ms..

It’s definitely been an adventure worth the money!! Would I do it again? Not anytime soon but who knows what the future might hold!! Maybe when the pup learns to “stay” a little better.

THE SMELL OF BURNT RUBBER

FOR MANY TEENS, OBTAINING A DRIVER’S LICENSE IS THE ULTIMATE RITE OF PASSAGE. BUT SOMETIMES LIFE THROWS A FEW CURVE BALLS…

By Adrian Giorgio

IREMEMBER FEELING ALIENATED, HEARING THEM ALL INDIVIDUALLY DELIVER THE GOOD NEWS. GLEEFULLY ROLLING UP TO THE FRONT ENTRANCE IN THEIR MOM’S SEDAN OR SUV.

It’s a given, right? Certainly, nobody else thought twice. 16 is a special age for a variety of reasons — none bigger than experiencing the sweet freedom of the open road.

This wasn’t new for me. I was already someone who didn’t indulge in the typical teenage pleasures: alcohol, drugs or even just parties. I would occasionally attend a jam, observe everyone else throwing back shots, beer and whatever other concoctions they could consume. I’d be sure to stay quiet for most of the night before checking out early. Sure, there was the odd drink spaced out over the course of four hours, but it was methodically calculated and panic would still set in at the first feeling of intoxication. Weed use was rarer, but scarier. Ironically, cannabis would go on to become the product that most helped to subdue the condition responsible for all of my party anxiety: epilepsy.

All in all, I was a low-key teen who was used to being extra-disciplined, responsible and level-headed. When the first opportunity to deviate from that norm and become more free-spirited presented itself, I leaped. I certainly wasn’t underage when it came to qualifying for a set of wheels. It wasn’t until the age of 18 that the opportunity to even perform the written portion of my driver’s test arose. In Ontario, completion of the G1 alone doesn’t allow you to drive without an experienced passenger. Until requirements were met for G2 eligibility, I relied upon friends to pick me up and drop me off.

I envied their liberty and nonchalant attitude toward navigating the city. They didn’t have to try a series of different medication combinations or frantically hope to stabilize their situation — they didn’t have to languish just to go six months without a seizure. Though that number seems so small and insignificant now, it was Ever-

est at the time. Constant close calls, near misses and medical skepticism restrained me to the point of rage and depression which--you guessed it!--caused more seizures. The lack of control bred the very triggers I was trying to avoid.

In the summer of 2012, it finally happened. Three years of agonizing delay and uncertainty were coming to a close. I sat nervously, sweating with heart palpitations as the examiner approached. Driving school was complete and there were no more do-overs. It was time to pick up my friends for a change and travel north for the May long weekend. I pulled out of the parking lot into the intersection, merged and checked my blind spot; the light switched from yellow to red simultaneously. Turning back, I froze and stuttered to clear the intersection. The rest was just a formality. What hurt most were the words of “consolation” from my examiner: “Look kid, you clearly know how to drive. I can’t pass you because of that early mishap, but just enjoy your long weekend and come back soon!” Even though there was only a minimum of a week’s wait to schedule another test, all I could think about was yet another delay and obstacle to freedom. I went home fuming, feeling like all the progress I’d made had been in vain and ended with a cruel irony.

A rollercoaster of emotion followed when I passed the second time around. I went from the deepest anger to almost being ecstatic, as I finally had the opportunity to drive my first car. That summer stands out for multiple reasons as being one of my favorites, but cruising in my 1973 Pontiac Firebird takes the cake. Having a considerate dad who’s obsessed with American vintage has its perks. I enjoyed the next few months of prime muscle car weather until returning to school for my third year at the University of Waterloo.

The semester started off with a bang: I excelled at the necessary language courses for my degree, made some great new friends in my program, adopted some new extra-curricular activities and most importantly, hadn’t had a single seizure. The trend continued, onward and upward. Before I knew it, it was winter and finals were impending.

There was immense pressure from considerations other than grades: roommate compatibility, relationships and volunteering for student causes, to name a few. However, I persevered and was able to maintain my composure. This gave me an extreme amount of confidence, being able to withstand all of these stressors at the same time and at the right time. That determination and some hope pushed me to get through my classes.

It wasn’t until a few days before my 20th birthday that things took a turn for the worse: symptoms of an upcoming seizure. I sat in class, clutching my head as it felt like it heated up to 100 degrees. My brain started to hurt and my changing perceptions caused panic. I gathered myself, focused and completed the task at hand.

Not 30 seconds after submitting my exam, I passed out in the hallway corridor. Soon after, I returned to Toronto and made an appointment with my neurologist. He promptly adjusted my medications, recommended me to another specialist and revoked my license.

Everything I had worked so hard for, all the sacrifices, strict self-discipline and unfailing resolve became meaningless. I lost my freedom as the ‘bird went back into the garage, under lock-and-key. Eight years later, I am more stable but still unable to drive.

The summer nights still roll in, the weather clement as ever and the roads rife with GM, MOPAR and Ford beauties gripping the tarmac. I may not be handling shifters, but I still catch myself subconsciously analyzing fenders, marker lights, bumpers, fins and bezels. What year is that Chevy? Why are Beaumonts so much rarer than Chevelles? If she were freed from her cage, my Pontiac would smoke those overhyped Camaros! Maybe one day that theory can best tested; for now, daydream drags will have to suffice.

While that may be the case, I no longer feel the alienation in quite the same way. It would be a lie to say the lack of freedom is irrelevant to me, but age and its accompanying priorities have a way of rearranging your values. My friends respect my use of transit systems and commitment to walking distances that would seem at best curious, at worst, stupefying. More importantly, rather than looking askance at my careful behaviour, they support it.

We may no longer call them jams, but the get-togethers still occur and involve some of the same activities and experiences. It’s truly gratifying to know that I can attend them anxiety-free and with a reserved passenger’s side seat at the end of the night. A future my nerve-addled teenage self would have deemed impossible.

Adrian Giorgio is a writer and editor with a passion for language, philosophy and the social sciences.

He is returning to school to study Neuropsychology. He has contributed to mental health, spirituality, historical, political and cultural organizations.

VOLVO CARS CANADA LAUNCHES FREE TOW FOR LIFE

No matter what vintage Volvo you may drive, roadside towing is now available free of charge in Canada.

With road trip season just around the corner, Volvo Cars is expanding its suite of complimentary services available to Canadians with “Tow for Life”. This service complements the free towing already provided to in-warranty customers via Roadside Assistance and works alongside existing complimentary warranties such as the Volvo Lifetime Replacement Parts & Labor Warranty.

“At Volvo, it is important to us that we help our customers get the service they expect, when they need it” said Matt Girgis, Managing Director, Volvo Cars Canada, “We are committed to providing all of our customers with expert service that includes genuine Volvo parts and repair methods. With Tow for Life, customers can get back on the road faster and feel confident in the safety of their vehicle.”

Towing is already included as part of a suite of roadside assistance services available during the car’s warranty period. Tow for Life ensures that owners of disabled, in or out-of-warranty Volvos are towed to an authorized Volvo retailer for diagnosis and repair. The service covers towing to the nearest Volvo Retailer, without cost to the customer for the first 50 kilometres. Volvo customers can call for help through Volvo On-Call or via Volvo Customer Care at 1 800263-0475.