[story] highway
author: shirasakura (shirasakura)
Weather Report: Ottawa, Ontario; Friday 10 June 20--
Sunny, with patches of clouds; low humidity; high pressure system coming down from the North; 20 degrees C; winds blowing South, maximum 12 km/h.
A good day all around to spend outside.
---
A red motorcycle roared down a country road. Houses and barns dotted fields in a part of the country where there were more animals than people, more vegetation than civility. The road was straight for miles on end, and only the possibility of the odd cow or chicken darting out into the lane caused any tension in the rider's body.
A slow-moving tractor travelled on the opposite side of the road. Further ahead, a green stationwagon headed towards a weekend escape, perhaps to a family cottage or to one of the lakeside resorts tucked into the forest. The motorcycle slowed, staying away from the stationwagon's blindspot, until the tractor went by.
The teenage boy on the tractor grinned at the motorcycle, while the two children in the backsear of the stationwagon - a girl and boy, neither older than ten - squealed when the rider revved up and passed them. Their mother - who was driving - glared at the rider, but the motorcyclist was gone before the heated stare could register.
---
While mosquito and black fly populations are relatively low for the time of year, horse flies and deer flies are "bugging" animals and people in large numbers. Insect repellent is a must if you're going to be spending time outdoors. Long clothes, especially in wooded areas, near lakes, or in the evening, are also recommended.
---
The rider was not dressed in black leathers, or even a black helmet. Instead, the helmet was open-faced and off-white, dirty from use. Underneath were a pair of riding sunglasses, padded around the eyes and with frames made of white plastic. A bright red scarf covered the rest of the rider's face, the taste of bugs and dirt not being a favourite.
The rider's jacket was made of thick, armoured kangaroo leather; it was form-fitting, and a shade of yellow usually reserved for cartoon suns or powdered cheese. White leather motorcycle trousers covered the legs. The gloves were thick and padded, the white leather molded from round the rider's hand.
Only the boots were black, the smooth leather coming up to the rider's knees. Although the leather was still dark and thick, it was soft from years of nearly constant wear. Some things never go out of style, even when they are inherited from a grandparent long dead.
---
When travelling, it is highly encouraged to choose routes that are well-marked. Even if you know the way to your destination, always travel with a map or a GPS device. Provisions and communications in the case of an emergency are a must for long-distance travelling, especially in areas where towns are few and far between.
---
There were two saddle bags strapped to the back of the motorcycle. One held the necessary materials: a map of Ontario, an aluminium water bottle, jumper cables, flares, a cellphone and its charger, a metal tin holding a package of Arrowroot cookies, a first aid kit, insect repellent, a compass, and a case of tools. The other held items not typically carried on the backs of motorcycles: a swimsuit, a towel, two days of clothing, and a small fishing tackle box.
No one knew about the tackle box, but no one would have asked anyway. They would have just wondered where the fishing rod was.
---
Make frequent stops when travelling, especially on long trips. Pulling over every few hours helps to alleviate stiff muscles and screaming kids. Do not hesitate to pull off the main road or motorway, but always remember how you got there. If possible, plan the trip ahead with specific stopping areas in mind.
---
The motorcycle slowed as it approached the river. The rider had never learnt the name of the river, knowing it only as a landmark of her childhood. She had heard that the town she knew was part of a larger town, known as Mississippi Mills, but she could never associate the name with the place. It had always sounded too strange. Foreign. A name for the Deep South and not the Free North, even if it wasn't that far north, for Ontario.
She pulled off the road (which had a name, but she would never remember it by anything else but the one of her childhood - Ice Cream Hill) into the parking lot of an ice cream stand. Although aware of the stares her motorcycle, bright-coloured leathers, and helmet hair were attracting, she didn't care.
The large chocolate soft ice cream was good.
---
Do not travel with a low gas read-out. Fill up your gas tank well before the meter nears empty, as the next gas station may not be for miles. Do not hesitate to pull into a gas station either, as it is a good opportunity to stretch your legs and clean your windshield.
---
She filled up her gas tank before leaving town, scowling at the price of gas. But she knew to fill up now. The gas stations were not marked on her map, and she couldn't remember where they were, except for the one in the largest town on her route.
She took this time to check her motorcycle. But as she inspected her tyres for damage and pressure changes, the stiffness of the chain, and the oil level, she noticed the men who came to watch.
The mechanics who worked at the gas station.
The motorcyclists who lived in town.
The out-of-town sedan driver who had apparently always wanted a Harley (even though hers was a Triumph Bonneville).
The teenage boy who chattered happily and asked her every question he could think of about her motorcycle until his mother hauled him away.
The little boy from the green stationwagon who only stared at her until his sister (the older of the pair, she knew now) told him that Mommy said that if he didn't come back soon he was Grounded.
This works better than a low-cut shirt, she thought, amused, as she wiped her sunglasses and helmet clean.
---
Construction during the summer months is a common occurrence and should be factored into driving time if on a schedule. If in traffic-congested areas or forced to take unknown alternate routes, study the map before leaving the main road to learn the detour and ways to avoid potential construction areas.
---
The orange pylon blown several miles down the road and into a field was her first clue. Her second clue was the red-bordered triangle of a man with a shovel. The final clue was the group of workers in the distance, bare-chested and red from working in the sun.
She stayed on Waba Road, taking the right fork. The left one was Campbell, and her current road would soon become something else. Route 2 or 23. It could be either of them, and at the same time, possibly Highland Road or White Lake Road. She couldn't remember which now, only that she'd get to the road she needed. There were two major towns left before her destination - and she knew these were the major towns because the roads were named for them.
This detour would add more time than she wanted to her schedule. But she knew she hated construction work on the roads even more.
---
If you are heading into cottage country, it is recommended to stock up on supplies in the last major town before your destination. This includes food and other provisions, such as toilet paper, drinking water, and batteries. A flashlight and matches are a must, but caution must be remembered with the latter. Please check the local news sources for information about camp fire regulations.
---
She pulled into the gas station at the last town, where a familiar stationwagon had pulled into a parking spot. The back doors were open, and the two children were playing as their mother watched. The father was no where in sight.
She filled her gas tank and went inside to pay. The inside of the gas station was a general store of sorts, with a small grocery, a video rental, and knick-knack shop all paid for at the same cashier. The father of the two kids fretted by the video rental, wondering which film his children would like best. In his cart were too many food items for her to count and a more mature film for himself and his wife. She waved at him, and he waved back, returning to his internal debate.
She paid for her gas, along with a box of matches and some raw vegetables. She left the store and its parking lot, heading to a much smaller, more specialised store.
The woman at the cashier was the same as ever, growing older each year until it seemed she was too old to look older and stayed the same. She smiled pleasantly at her customer, and asked, "What would you like?"
"I'd like to speak with your husband about a four-wheeler he has waiting for me," she replied, taking a credit card and her driver's license out of her wallet. "I'd also like to know what the best fish bait is."
---
When travelling on unpaved roads in cottage country, four- or all-wheel drive is highly recommended. Attempting to travel on these roads without this capability is highly discouraged. Certain areas are inaccessible without it.
---
It had taken a short time to transfer her items to the four-wheeler she was renting and store her motorcycle. While the trip would take even longer now, she was at least not worried about wrecking her motorcycle.
She took public back roads, staying far away from the main highways. Not that, however, there was any other way to get to her destination. Everything from here on out, even going to the nearby golf course, was on unpaved, dusty roads.
For the first time in her trip she pulled out the sheet of paper where she had written the directions. This was the part she could never remember as a child: which of the many twists and turns to take and which to avoid. She remembered that the trees would grow thicker, and there would be a large body of water she would have to pass, but she also knew that one wrong turn would result in hours of backtracking and bug bites.
She did her best to memorise the directions, and to connect them with what she could recall from her childhood. Then she started the engine of the ATV and headed down the road, kicking up a cloud of dirt in her wake.
---
If you get lost and cannot get a signal on your cellphone or GPS, do not panic. Backtrack if possible, and if not use a compass to get your bearings and return to a recognisable place. If both are not possible - pray.
---
She was proud of her good sense of direction, making her the black sheep of her usually lost family. Her confidence rose as she recognised a turn she had to take, the apple orchard, the sandpit, and finally the gated private road, the last sign that she was almost there. The gate was open, as it always was starting sometime in Spring, when the first family headed to their cottage to open it up.
She drove the four-wheeler slowly up the hills; this was not a place to drive quickly.
She passed four cottage driveways - which were simply clear-cut paths downhill between the trees - until she found hers. The driveway was empty, but she took the four-wheeler past it to go down the hill and stop at the lower driveway. The only vehicle that could get to the house from the upper driveway would be a bulldozer.
The cottage had been opened earlier in the year, back around the Easter holiday for two weeks of solid work that it had truly and desperately needed. A working toilet and a new water pump had been installed back then, though not a new lock. It was the same lock from her childhood, and from her mother's childhood.
She found the key, nested on a nail high up in the outhouse. She hated going in there, but she knew that the key would never be found by unwanted visitors there. She dropped all of her things off in the cottage, save for the tackle box and bait, and grabbed her fishing rod and the motorboat key.
She had a few hours before the rest of her family arrived, and the boat was awful slow.
---
Have a nice holiday!
---
She was in the staff room, having changed out of her riding leathers into dress trousers and a short-sleeved blouse. It was a Monday, and she nearly hugged the coffee maker but a fellow teacher showed up before she could. Instead, she pulled her long, black hair into a ponytail and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Your students enjoyed their day off, but why take a day off so close to the end of the school year, Tellie?" her co-worker asked. "Where did you go that was so important?"
She only smiled in response. Her motorcycle was caked with dirt.
the end
Weather Report: Ottawa, Ontario; Friday 10 June 20--
Sunny, with patches of clouds; low humidity; high pressure system coming down from the North; 20 degrees C; winds blowing South, maximum 12 km/h.
A good day all around to spend outside.
---
A red motorcycle roared down a country road. Houses and barns dotted fields in a part of the country where there were more animals than people, more vegetation than civility. The road was straight for miles on end, and only the possibility of the odd cow or chicken darting out into the lane caused any tension in the rider's body.
A slow-moving tractor travelled on the opposite side of the road. Further ahead, a green stationwagon headed towards a weekend escape, perhaps to a family cottage or to one of the lakeside resorts tucked into the forest. The motorcycle slowed, staying away from the stationwagon's blindspot, until the tractor went by.
The teenage boy on the tractor grinned at the motorcycle, while the two children in the backsear of the stationwagon - a girl and boy, neither older than ten - squealed when the rider revved up and passed them. Their mother - who was driving - glared at the rider, but the motorcyclist was gone before the heated stare could register.
---
While mosquito and black fly populations are relatively low for the time of year, horse flies and deer flies are "bugging" animals and people in large numbers. Insect repellent is a must if you're going to be spending time outdoors. Long clothes, especially in wooded areas, near lakes, or in the evening, are also recommended.
---
The rider was not dressed in black leathers, or even a black helmet. Instead, the helmet was open-faced and off-white, dirty from use. Underneath were a pair of riding sunglasses, padded around the eyes and with frames made of white plastic. A bright red scarf covered the rest of the rider's face, the taste of bugs and dirt not being a favourite.
The rider's jacket was made of thick, armoured kangaroo leather; it was form-fitting, and a shade of yellow usually reserved for cartoon suns or powdered cheese. White leather motorcycle trousers covered the legs. The gloves were thick and padded, the white leather molded from round the rider's hand.
Only the boots were black, the smooth leather coming up to the rider's knees. Although the leather was still dark and thick, it was soft from years of nearly constant wear. Some things never go out of style, even when they are inherited from a grandparent long dead.
---
When travelling, it is highly encouraged to choose routes that are well-marked. Even if you know the way to your destination, always travel with a map or a GPS device. Provisions and communications in the case of an emergency are a must for long-distance travelling, especially in areas where towns are few and far between.
---
There were two saddle bags strapped to the back of the motorcycle. One held the necessary materials: a map of Ontario, an aluminium water bottle, jumper cables, flares, a cellphone and its charger, a metal tin holding a package of Arrowroot cookies, a first aid kit, insect repellent, a compass, and a case of tools. The other held items not typically carried on the backs of motorcycles: a swimsuit, a towel, two days of clothing, and a small fishing tackle box.
No one knew about the tackle box, but no one would have asked anyway. They would have just wondered where the fishing rod was.
---
Make frequent stops when travelling, especially on long trips. Pulling over every few hours helps to alleviate stiff muscles and screaming kids. Do not hesitate to pull off the main road or motorway, but always remember how you got there. If possible, plan the trip ahead with specific stopping areas in mind.
---
The motorcycle slowed as it approached the river. The rider had never learnt the name of the river, knowing it only as a landmark of her childhood. She had heard that the town she knew was part of a larger town, known as Mississippi Mills, but she could never associate the name with the place. It had always sounded too strange. Foreign. A name for the Deep South and not the Free North, even if it wasn't that far north, for Ontario.
She pulled off the road (which had a name, but she would never remember it by anything else but the one of her childhood - Ice Cream Hill) into the parking lot of an ice cream stand. Although aware of the stares her motorcycle, bright-coloured leathers, and helmet hair were attracting, she didn't care.
The large chocolate soft ice cream was good.
---
Do not travel with a low gas read-out. Fill up your gas tank well before the meter nears empty, as the next gas station may not be for miles. Do not hesitate to pull into a gas station either, as it is a good opportunity to stretch your legs and clean your windshield.
---
She filled up her gas tank before leaving town, scowling at the price of gas. But she knew to fill up now. The gas stations were not marked on her map, and she couldn't remember where they were, except for the one in the largest town on her route.
She took this time to check her motorcycle. But as she inspected her tyres for damage and pressure changes, the stiffness of the chain, and the oil level, she noticed the men who came to watch.
The mechanics who worked at the gas station.
The motorcyclists who lived in town.
The out-of-town sedan driver who had apparently always wanted a Harley (even though hers was a Triumph Bonneville).
The teenage boy who chattered happily and asked her every question he could think of about her motorcycle until his mother hauled him away.
The little boy from the green stationwagon who only stared at her until his sister (the older of the pair, she knew now) told him that Mommy said that if he didn't come back soon he was Grounded.
This works better than a low-cut shirt, she thought, amused, as she wiped her sunglasses and helmet clean.
---
Construction during the summer months is a common occurrence and should be factored into driving time if on a schedule. If in traffic-congested areas or forced to take unknown alternate routes, study the map before leaving the main road to learn the detour and ways to avoid potential construction areas.
---
The orange pylon blown several miles down the road and into a field was her first clue. Her second clue was the red-bordered triangle of a man with a shovel. The final clue was the group of workers in the distance, bare-chested and red from working in the sun.
She stayed on Waba Road, taking the right fork. The left one was Campbell, and her current road would soon become something else. Route 2 or 23. It could be either of them, and at the same time, possibly Highland Road or White Lake Road. She couldn't remember which now, only that she'd get to the road she needed. There were two major towns left before her destination - and she knew these were the major towns because the roads were named for them.
This detour would add more time than she wanted to her schedule. But she knew she hated construction work on the roads even more.
---
If you are heading into cottage country, it is recommended to stock up on supplies in the last major town before your destination. This includes food and other provisions, such as toilet paper, drinking water, and batteries. A flashlight and matches are a must, but caution must be remembered with the latter. Please check the local news sources for information about camp fire regulations.
---
She pulled into the gas station at the last town, where a familiar stationwagon had pulled into a parking spot. The back doors were open, and the two children were playing as their mother watched. The father was no where in sight.
She filled her gas tank and went inside to pay. The inside of the gas station was a general store of sorts, with a small grocery, a video rental, and knick-knack shop all paid for at the same cashier. The father of the two kids fretted by the video rental, wondering which film his children would like best. In his cart were too many food items for her to count and a more mature film for himself and his wife. She waved at him, and he waved back, returning to his internal debate.
She paid for her gas, along with a box of matches and some raw vegetables. She left the store and its parking lot, heading to a much smaller, more specialised store.
The woman at the cashier was the same as ever, growing older each year until it seemed she was too old to look older and stayed the same. She smiled pleasantly at her customer, and asked, "What would you like?"
"I'd like to speak with your husband about a four-wheeler he has waiting for me," she replied, taking a credit card and her driver's license out of her wallet. "I'd also like to know what the best fish bait is."
---
When travelling on unpaved roads in cottage country, four- or all-wheel drive is highly recommended. Attempting to travel on these roads without this capability is highly discouraged. Certain areas are inaccessible without it.
---
It had taken a short time to transfer her items to the four-wheeler she was renting and store her motorcycle. While the trip would take even longer now, she was at least not worried about wrecking her motorcycle.
She took public back roads, staying far away from the main highways. Not that, however, there was any other way to get to her destination. Everything from here on out, even going to the nearby golf course, was on unpaved, dusty roads.
For the first time in her trip she pulled out the sheet of paper where she had written the directions. This was the part she could never remember as a child: which of the many twists and turns to take and which to avoid. She remembered that the trees would grow thicker, and there would be a large body of water she would have to pass, but she also knew that one wrong turn would result in hours of backtracking and bug bites.
She did her best to memorise the directions, and to connect them with what she could recall from her childhood. Then she started the engine of the ATV and headed down the road, kicking up a cloud of dirt in her wake.
---
If you get lost and cannot get a signal on your cellphone or GPS, do not panic. Backtrack if possible, and if not use a compass to get your bearings and return to a recognisable place. If both are not possible - pray.
---
She was proud of her good sense of direction, making her the black sheep of her usually lost family. Her confidence rose as she recognised a turn she had to take, the apple orchard, the sandpit, and finally the gated private road, the last sign that she was almost there. The gate was open, as it always was starting sometime in Spring, when the first family headed to their cottage to open it up.
She drove the four-wheeler slowly up the hills; this was not a place to drive quickly.
She passed four cottage driveways - which were simply clear-cut paths downhill between the trees - until she found hers. The driveway was empty, but she took the four-wheeler past it to go down the hill and stop at the lower driveway. The only vehicle that could get to the house from the upper driveway would be a bulldozer.
The cottage had been opened earlier in the year, back around the Easter holiday for two weeks of solid work that it had truly and desperately needed. A working toilet and a new water pump had been installed back then, though not a new lock. It was the same lock from her childhood, and from her mother's childhood.
She found the key, nested on a nail high up in the outhouse. She hated going in there, but she knew that the key would never be found by unwanted visitors there. She dropped all of her things off in the cottage, save for the tackle box and bait, and grabbed her fishing rod and the motorboat key.
She had a few hours before the rest of her family arrived, and the boat was awful slow.
---
Have a nice holiday!
---
She was in the staff room, having changed out of her riding leathers into dress trousers and a short-sleeved blouse. It was a Monday, and she nearly hugged the coffee maker but a fellow teacher showed up before she could. Instead, she pulled her long, black hair into a ponytail and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Your students enjoyed their day off, but why take a day off so close to the end of the school year, Tellie?" her co-worker asked. "Where did you go that was so important?"
She only smiled in response. Her motorcycle was caked with dirt.
the end