58 Jurisdictions and a Million Stories

From the 60th Parallel to Miami, and All Points Between

They say if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. I’m not sure who “they” are, but I suspect they never spent 43 years wrestling a long-haul rig through a whiteout blizzard in the Kootenays or navigating the sweltering, humid traffic on a Friday afternoon in downtown Miami. For me, trucking wasn’t just a career; it was an education that spanned 5 million miles—or roughly 8 million kilometres for my fellow Canadians.

To give you an idea of the ground covered, it’s easier to list where I haven’t been. In over four decades on the road, I put rubber on the pavement in every single Canadian province and every one of the lower 48 United States. Aside from the far North (NWT and Yukon) and the two states you can’t reach by a standard highway (Alaska and Hawaii), I’ve seen most of the rest of the continent through the windshield of a truck. I’ve watched the sunrise over the Atlantic in the Maritimes and seen it set over the Pacific, only to turn around and head for the southernmost tip of the U.S.

When you spend that much time alone with your thoughts, watching the landscape shift from the frozen, desolate beauty of the North to the palm trees and tropical breezes of the South, you learn a lot about human nature. You learn how to build a story in your head before you ever put pen to paper. Most of my love for the “thriller” genre took root in those long hours of solitude, thanks to audio books. You start to wonder about the people in the cars passing by, or the history of the lonely farmhouses sitting back from the highway.

Driving through 58 different provinces and states gives you a unique perspective on how “connected” we really are. Every border crossing was a new chapter. Every weigh station or greasy-spoon truck stop was a chance to swap stories with another driver who was just as far from home as I was. Looking back, the best part wasn’t necessarily the scenery—though I’ve seen some beauties—it was the realization that no matter where you go, folks are generally just trying to do their best for their families.

What’s the biggest “climate shock” you’ve ever experienced on a trip? Have you ever gone from a January blizzard in Canada to a sun-drenched beach in the South in a matter of days? I’d love to hear your travel stories below or on our new Gathering Place place in our Travel Talk Space.

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