NEWS FROM WORLD: Pilgrim

This is a pilgrimage. (A journey to a place associated with someone or something well respected, viewed as life's journey.) I started with Vancouver, which is just about as perfect a place as any to begin a quest or odyssey or journey. Its big, welcoming, beautiful, dense, lush, brooding, overcast and foggy. You can go from downtown San Francisco-esque city, to the mountainous bear infested forest, in however long traffic permits you to cross one of its bridges (if you're lucky...10 minutes, if you're not uhh.... you’re stuck for an hour or so.) I was very fortunate to have some pretty amazing tour guides that gave me a crash course in all the important Vancouver sites. Everything Olympic, the massive Stanley park (2nd biggest city park next to central park in Manhattan), the turn of the century looking suspension bridge, apparently built by the Guinness family and my favorite part, the giant sulphur mound that almost glows gold, no matter what the conditions. The only night I spent there, I slept on a house boat, which if you haven't ever, find a way to do it. Having my own float-home is rapidly becoming one of my top life goals. I managed to be there the weekend there was a Chinese fireworks festival in the water and it was pride weekend. It felt like everyone was celebrating Meghan's list. I know that's selfish but I'm going to pretend. After the night in the float home and the world's most efficient city tour, I got to the train station about an hour ahead of time. If you buy a sleeping class ticket (bunks included) you get to hang out in the fancy lounge where they have some guy with a keyboard singing weird songs, snacks and drinks and ac. We boarded the train and they announced they were giving away champagne (I think that was mostly due to the fact that the train was two hours late leaving, and there were a lot of old timers on the train.) It worked great! They were all psyched to be on the train and passed out after half a drink. The back of the train is all windows with an observation bubble on the 2nd floor and every single seat was filled with a sleeping octogenarian (the sun hadn't even set yet.)

The sun did set and I couldn't wait to get into my bunk. Could. Not. Wait. They fold the bed down out of the ceiling and turn the bench seats below fold into another bed. So it's like bunk beds with a heavy curtain that do a fantastic job of blocking out light, some sound and in general letting you feel like you're in your own space. I slept so hard. It had to be at least 11 hours. The train literally rocks you to sleep in your tiny little cave. And when you wake up it sort of feels like Christmas, except you don't run downstairs to the tree, you find the nearest window and are completely overwhelmed with nature. Its beautiful, expansive, enveloping, inviting, I could go on forever with adjectives. Its perfect. Although, I'm sad I missed the crazy cliffs and bridges that you apparently pass through overnight. Anyway, the next step is breakfast, and I was skeptical as usual. I’m vegan, so food can be difficult. I tried to call ahead and have them prepare stuff beforehand or at least give them notice but every time they said to just tell the waiter. Who, not surprisingly, had no idea what to do and offered me salad. I can get a salad at Burger King. Way to go, you totally get it! All we eat is lettuce and bark. The chef was indeed better prepared and came out with a pretty decent tofu scramble, definitely a nice recovery in the span of twenty minutes. The coffee is good and never ending. I can’t complain. Its a little awkward, but ultimately good that they make you sit with other people since seating is limited, so I understand why but yeah. No meals alone.

I spent the rest of the trip to jasper glued to the window, either reading or taking pictures. Its unreal. Mountains, lakes, tunnels, the forest, and no bears. No moose. No elk. NO BEARS. Let down. Is it so wrong to just hang some steaks out or something before the train passes through? I mean, come on, they gotta eat too. Right? I was only in Jasper for 45 minutes, I barely got to walk around but it looked nice. I wish I had gotten to spend more time there. Next time. It's funny, how when you lose someone, you end up spending more time making other people feel better about it than, worrying about yourself. In conversation you always finish with something like "but it's ok now because..." Its frustrating you feel guilt for it. Almost like you feel bad for putting that burden on other people? It's stupid and half the time I want to just let it hang there in the air. Mostly because it's not “ok because…” It sucks. It still sucks a lot. I’m trying to do something that I feel is important to Meghan and me, but that doesn’t lessen the blow that she’s gone. You know? I wish I could just say ‘my wife passed away’ and then not say anything and have them not feel like they need to say anything. It's really incredible to be in the same space mentally with the worst of the worst and be cognizant of what you're facing. Its not meditation or even dwelling, its just...yeah...facing it. Sitting down to have a beer with the biggest, scariest, bigfoot-like creature imaginable. You know exactly how terrifying it is because it’s right there in front of you. You know its capacity for destruction and pain. It has the potential to completely rip you to shreds and leave you a sad pile of waste. It is also almost a mirror. Terror has a way of reflecting your worth, your mettle. I have to be completely honest and I think quite apparent what the initial effect on me was.... I was completely scared and broken. I still am. I'm not even sure if I'll come out on top, but I know I'm going to try. Every last fiber is in scramble mode trying to find something solid to steady myself on. I need to catch my breath and find my bearings. I need an anchor for the world, to stop it or slow it just long enough to figure this all out. The train from Jasper to Edmonton was the same as the first leg. It was only 5 hours so I took a nap and read some and again stared out the window.

Edmonton was strange. It’s pretty difficult to get around there and there are only two streets in the city with anything happening. These two streets are separated by a river…its not convenient. I didn’t get it. I rented a car and drove down to Banff the following day, which was frustrating. Everything in Alberta is frustrating. I was in literally the middle of nowhere and stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Four times. Four. The Four and a half hour drive magically turned into seven. But I made it and it felt ok there. It’s definitely a tourist trap city but it’s convenient to get to some pretty insane nature. I think if I did it all over again though I would try to find something a little more off the beaten path. I went for a drive after throwing my stuff on the bed in the hostel and saw elk and a lot of rivers. Really big rivers. At one particular bend I ran into a group of probably 30 photographers all staked out to take the exact same sunset picture. It was kind of weird how much effort and preparation they
were putting into an image everyone else there was going to have. The next morning, I got up early with the intention of driving to Lake Louise, but not before the promised free breakfast at the hostel. Laughable at best. The girl at the desk had put out half a loaf of bread and a tub of margarine. I honestly didn’t understand and had to go back upstairs to ask her where it was. She confirmed that, yes; free breakfast meant the hostel was going above and beyond the call of duty with 6 slices of Wonder bread and margarine. For the entire hostel. Thanks. On to the Lake!

It took me about 45 minutes to drive there and it was already packed at 9 in the morning. They even had traffic directors in the parking lot. So crazy. So, naturally I decided to go exploring and found another lake, Lake Moraine, which was awesome and empty. They had signs on the trail saying you can only hike if you’re in groups of four because of the bears! So cool. From Lake Moraine I took the long way out of the park headed to Calgary. I felt like I was leaving something behind. It was definitely
sad being there and being alone and not talking to Meghan about random things. She would’ve lost her mind watching me hand feed the chipmunks (I know, I know, you’re not supposed to do that) but instead I had to share that with middle aged couple from Quebec. Banff is incredible, don’t get me wrong, but it felt unsatisfying. Meghan had been to Banff when she lived in Calgary and I was hoping to find some remnant of that or feel her presence or see something that altered my outlook. I
didn’t find any of that. I didn’t feel anything. Maybe I'm putting too much pressure on it or setting my expectations too high.

In Calgary I met one of Meghan’s best friends, Joleen, for the first time. That was a huge comfort and relief almost. It felt safe, like safe from the world for a minute where I can be near to a part of Meghan. I got to see where Meghan lived and worked and we did things that they would’ve done when Meghan was there. It was great. Like adding tiny pieces to this massive puzzle. The most unsettling thing happened though. Joleen and her mother told me that the second I got into

Joleen’s truck they felt Meghan there too. It felt the same as when Meghan would ride around with Joleen. That spun my head and I don’t know why. All of these expectations I’m setting for places and supernatural experiences I'm hoping to have are backwards. Or I'm thinking of it backwards. I’m not going out to find Meghan, I'm taking Meghan with me. I didn’t have that realization then. I left Calgary more confused than when I got there. I drove back to Edmonton in silence. Well, silence in my head at least. It was just quiet and kind of a blur.

The next night when I got on the train I felt like I was ending something, or almost like setting fire to it. Its like I'm burning
every bridge I cross. I don't mean I'm severing all ties or ruining relationships. I mean to say I'm not going to give myself an out or a retreat. I know the best things for me are ahead. I know that much good is before me and if I give myself an out, I might get scared and retreat into oblivion. I have to keep going and always forward. And that’s what leaving Edmonton felt like. I came out scraped, but still alive knowing I can’t go back. It's best to dust myself off, ruin all possibility of retreat and keep going.
I met some really great, genuine people, rolling through the prairies and got to share Meghan’s story. I’m actually doing it. I’m doing what I set out to, because of and for Meghan. The big picture is fulfilling, even though these small steps along the way don’t all feel like it.

I spent the last night in the back car with the observation bubble. It felt like everything was right. For that hour or two, everything felt ok and I felt content. The train really is the prettiest and most romantic form of transportation. It's like a chain of lanterns snaking it's way through the forest in the night. It's so perfect and calming and naturally fosters reflection.
Meghan chose well.