I hope you have adventure

  When my family was driving back from Ucluelet recently, I was sitting shotgun while my dad was driving. I’m not sure how we got on the topic, but he shared a story from his childhood that I thought was just awesome. Super funny, quirky, reckless, and very my dad. I think it’s also a really great example of how teenagers don’t fully understand consequences or perhaps, it’s just an example of my father as a teenager not fully thinking things through. Either way, it’s a great story.

  When my dad was seventeen, his parents were out of town visiting family back on the farm in Saskatchewan. He decided that it would be a good idea to hitchhike to Kelowna to meet them as they had planned to camp there on their way back home. So he set off with very little provisions and barely any money. When he reached Kelowna, he realized that his parents probably wouldn’t be there for a few days and that he should just keep going. His brilliant plan was to meet them on the highway on the stretch between BC and Alberta. As he explained, he thought he would just be able to wave them down from the side of the road. So again he set off, making a stop in Banff to visit a girl (as seventeen year old boys do). He mentioned that he had to buy at toque in Banff as when you’re sleeping out under the stars, it can get a bit cold. When he got to the stretch of highway that he planned to meet his parents on, he realized his error in that there would be no way he would be able to just flag them down from the side of the road. So, in his wisdom, he decided that he should just continue onto Saskatchewan. With a lot of luck and help from some friendly drivers, he made it to his aunt’s house where, as it was quite early in the morning, he decided he would take a nap on their front lawn as to not wake them up too early. While he was sleeping, his cousin woke up and not realizing who was on his front lawn (probably thinking it was some sketchy guy in a toque), called the RCMP. So, my dad was woken up by the RCMP in which he had to then explain that he was there to visit with family. At this time, his parents had already left for home unaware that they were probably passing their son along the highway. My dad ended up staying the summer with his grandfather and working on the farm. He tried to convince them when it was time to return home that the best plan would be for him to purchase a horse and ride it back along the highway to Burnaby. His uncle just laughed and proceeded to buy him a plane ticket for Vancouver. It was his first time on a plane and a great way to end his summer adventure.
  After my father had finished recounting his story, I had some questions for him:
                Me: “Did you mention to anyone that you were planning on hitchhiking to Saskatchewan?
                My dad: “No, they probably would have stopped me.”
                Me: “What did you plan on doing with a horse when you got home?”
                My dad: “Hadn’t really thought that through.”
                Me:  “What did Grandma think about all this?”
                My dad: “Can’t remember, but don’t think she had much to say” (she had probably already given up at that point in teaching her son some sense).
                Me:  “What did your dad think about your actions?”
                My dad: “I think he was proud.”

  It got me thinking to some of my travel experiences when I was younger. When I set out at eighteen with my friend to backpack around Europe. Some of my most memorable times happened when we just went with the flow and didn’t think about the consequences. Sure I had promised my father to not travel to Africa (really after the above story, I’m not sure that he should have really been saying anything to me about boundaries), but when you’re presented with the opportunity of travelling to Morocco with a group of people you’ve just met at a bar in Lagos at 3am, how can you turn it down. Or when you arrive in Brindisi with no place to stay and two older Italian men offer to take you out to dinner and then somehow convince you that you should just stay with them for the night and they’ll drive you to the ferry in the morning, well, it’s a free meal and accommodation (okay, with that one, we were a bit worried and both of us were wondering how we could reach our Swiss Army knives as we were driving through dark fields to their house – turns out that they were just very nice men and worried about these young girls sleeping in a train station over night). 
  It also got me thinking about the type of parent I want to be with Isaac. Someone that sets some boundaries, but does allow him to go out and experience life to the fullest. I realize that this hope for myself will take some work. I worry about head injuries and broken bones, but still want him to play in the forest, build forts, learn to ski (or snowboard if my husband has anything to say about it), get dirty, basically live life with abandon. I want him to explore the world and stretch his boundaries, but at the end of his travels, I hope that he comes home and tells me all about it. I hope when he sees the road less travelled that his curiosity leads him in that direction, but that he also uses his judgement and asks for directions when needed. Saying this, I know that I will worry greatly about him. I just hope that I can keep those worries to myself, only sharing them for the big things and letting the little ones just slide. I hope that he experiences adventure in his life, but maybe doesn’t tell me about it until after. 

My little adventurer