Stowaways.

5 AM and the alarm goes off. Scratch that, it’s 4. This is the first time I question who’s idea this trip was. Rest assured, we get going and, the day gets interesting. Wheels rolling at five.
I had not anticipated the positives of such an early start, alas an East Coast sunrise.

Then, while drinking it in, driving on our side of the road between the mustard in the mayo,  it feels like we’re on a rumble strip. We pull over and there’s smoke. We tighten the lugs and almost make it across the continent on one liter of oil that was put in around Revelstoke.

We haven’t seized yet and were not dangerously hot, unless the thermometer is broken. We risk it. Next gas station is no more than 5 minutes away. We get there and it doesn’t open until seven another half an hour. That’s okay the next gas station is only 10 minutes further. We make, it top up on oil and grab a couple extra for the way back.

It’s 10 AM we are in the ferry line up and it only gets better.

We get on the ferry first so I’m able to unload without being blocked in by another vehicle.

We dance inside and get ourselves nice reclining seats for the six hour boat ride. Seats suck. 10 minutes in and I’m not gonna make the crossing in this chair. So we load up and we’re on the move, looking for a cabin to crash. We find some, ones you picture the crew members sleeping in.  Single bed, not at lot of room. We figure, if you’re going to strike out it might as well be on good pitches. We go up another floor and find the Deluxe cabins. Queen beds, TV, shower, mini bar and most importantly an open door.

About four hours into life as a stowaway, things are going well. The girls have been coming and going, using a deadbolt to keep the door propped open while both are gone, and I’ve been napping.


Quick status check – I’m alone napping on the bed and, let’s just say we’ve made ourselves at home. All of a sudden some deck hand wench wakes me up to the tune of

“Hello?!….. Excuse me?…. Excuse me!….. You know these rooms aren’t free. Of course you know these rooms aren’t free. Nothing this nice would be free.”

Thanks to my quick wit I come back with a motionless response, maybe she won’t see me laying on the covers. Sh*t, we just made eye contact. I swallow hard.

“Yeah…. sorry about that.”

” You are going to have to vacate.”

My wheelchair sits next to the bed, I see her steal a glance at it. This is where it gets a little awkward, for her. I can’t do anything but giggle.

“About that…” I muster.

We exchange a few more pleasantries and I never see her again. Regardless, when Izzy and Jodie return 20 minutes later, we disappear.

busted....

Onto a rock floating in the Atlantic Ocean, forgotten about by time for the last eighteen or fifty five hundred years.

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One Response to Stowaways.

  1. Chris McMillan says:

    You young folks are amazing!!! Happy Trails!

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