The End of the GDT | Back to life, back to reality…
And so our journey in the Canadian wilderness has come to an end. On September 24th, somewhere around noon, Ryan and I stumbled onto Highway 16 between Prince George and McBride. The food was all gone, water bottles were nearly empty and our brains foggy. We started sticking our thumbs out, and much to our surprise, we got picked up within 5 minutes.
We’re no strangers to hitchhiking.
Two days before, we reached the official end of the Great Divide Trail in Kakwa Provincial Park. At km 1095, you reach Kakwa Lake and its wooden cabin, a magnificent end to a magnificent hike… But unless you have fancy friends with a float plane, you still need to hike another 100 km to exit the remote park and catch a ride on Hwy 16. Kakwa Park is accessible by foot, bike, or horse only. No cars or ATVs allowed: The park promotes pure, untouched wilderness.
Our first driver, 90-some years of age, didn’t exactly pull over, but stopped in the middle of the road. He beckoned us to come in and put our packs in the car. Semi-trucks were driving by, angrily honking their horns, but our dear driver did not seem to care nor hear it. Originally from the U.K., he moved to Canada 70 years ago and loved it. He dropped us off at an old-school diner in McBride, where we indulged in the most amazing burgers and poutine. About 6 coffee refills later, we were fuelled up for the next leg of the journey. Although the hiking part was officially over, we still had + 500 highway kilometers to cover.
Hitchhiking in 2022
During our entire GDT adventure, we had over 20 hitches! Our conclusion? We are all just people in the end, and being kind to others is truly the coolest thing you can do - even in 2022.
Hitchhiking in Canada has been quite an adventure. Not only is hitchhiking pretty rare in 2022 - “we’re not living in the hippie 60s anymore” - but some highways don’t even allow picking up hitchhikers! Good thing that some people are still rebels and just want to help another human out. So in the end, we always had a ride out and were fortunate to meet people from all different walks of life.
One of our driver friends & his white truck.
After an hourlong wait in McBride, an A&W cook and his manager picked us up, gave us chocolate to munch on, and conveniently dropped us off in the direction of Jasper, where our third driver, a hard-working First Nation Saskatchewanian picked us up. He generously bought us food in KFC and drove us all the way to Hinton. The next day, a kind banker lady drove us to Edmonton. We listened to country music and talked about banks, dogs, and crazy technology. It was her first time picking up hitchhikers. We think she might do it again.
Hitching to the start of the GDT. Yes, the Sharpie was near-empty.
Hitchhiking after finishing the Great Divide Trail made our return to the “real world” gradual and gentle. However, it still feels like a shock. After a long period of solitude and simplicity, society and its multitude of impulses, people, smells, and sounds can be quite overwhelming.
Posing with our guardian angel
- made by Lynnie Wonfor
But we were lucky to spend a couple of nights with the Wonfors, the kindest and most caring family in Calgary. We learned again that connecting with the right people can be healing, too. ❤
So, what’s on the menu for October? Basically, editing and writing until we drop. After a two-week housesit and taking care of two dogs, we will hit the road again in mid-October. First, we head south to Phoenix for work in the desert. After that, we drive another 2,000 miles to Pittsburgh, where we meet up with Ryan’s family. We’ll say our goodbyes to the van and welcome a new chapter in Belgium… Aloha!
“So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.”
(Excerpt from Robert Frosts’ Birches)