That One Time My Parents Abandoned Me in Canada

If you ever plan on visiting Alaska in the summer, the best way to do it is to take a couple extra weeks off work and drive through Canada. Trust me. There's no shortage of breathtaking scenery along the way, and Canada is just wonderful. You can also really put that midnight sun to use as you push through the long miles between motels.

Did I say those miles were long? I meant reeeeally long. Like there are actually road signs all the way through the Yukon letting you know to gas up at the next stop because you won't find anything else for, like, ever.

16 kilometers is like the first level of Mario. They make you think you can survive before they throw the crazy stuff at you.

I learned that lesson the hard way. On the second day of our return trip from Alaska when I was sixteen, my family and I hoped to get a nice motel room in Watson Lake, Yukon, a hardy twelve hours from our starting point in Tok, Alaska. 

But there were no nice motel rooms.

There weren't even gross motel rooms.

They had nothing. Not a single room in the whole town.

So we kept going. But it wasn't as simple as just stopping at the next town; there were no towns. We drove through the night in endless forest, pulling over now and then so my dad could stretch his legs and stay alert behind the wheel. We were still far enough north that it never got too dark, so at least there was stuff to look at. 

Blurry pic, but this is about the darkest it ever got that night. Seriously, go north for your summer road trips!

After a grand total of thirty-two straight hours in the car, we rolled into a gas station in Fort St. John, British Columbia and were reasonably exhausted. While my dad filled the gas tank, I climbed out and told him I was gonna go use the restroom. He answered with a tired grunt.

Two minutes and one relieved bladder later, the car was gone. 

I approached the gas station attendant like everything was normal and my family hadn't totally just abandoned me. "You haven't seen a red station wagon, have you?" I asked.

The attendant grinned. "They left ya, didn't they."

We shared a good laugh, then after she let me help myself to an orange soda from the fridge, she came outside and sat on the curb with me. My new Canadian friend told me about her family, swapped funny stories with me, and planted the idea in my head to make my parents pay. "This is worth at least a dirt bike, or something," she said.

The gas station in Fort St. John--a reminder to me that Canadians are the nicest, coolest people on the planet.
Image credit: Matthew Cunningham

Twenty minutes later, my family found a motel in town and stopped out front to check in. "Nate, hold down the fort," my dad said.

Aaaaand silence.

"Nate?"

In the back seat, my brother groggily turned his head toward where I should have been--right next to him. "I don't think he's here...."

Long story short, I got a ton of Lego for my birthday that year.

I'd like to wish a very happy Canada Day to all my friends and readers Up North. Your land is beautiful and your people are good. If more countries were like you, the world would be a better place.