600 Miles to Toronto
A Road Trip Narrative
We decide it might be a good idea to invest in a radar detector if we intend to proceed at these speeds.
The next town seems like a viable stopping point. At the McDonalds we eat a fast, greasy lunch and ask
one of the employees for directions. She informs us that the next town over has a mall where we might
be able to find an electronics store. Back on the road we wait for the next town, and wait, and wait.
After about forty miles I turn to my boyfriend and say, �I don�t think the next town is coming, I think
she may have been slightly confused about the direction we were headed�. He agrees with me and the hope
of purchasing that radar detector has been put in the back of my mind. We travel on, towards the border.
I chose Canada because I would be able to cross the border. The thought of going to another country is
what really intrigued me. Upon leaving my home, independence is what I desired to find on this trip.
I hoped that being able to go somewhere, 600 miles from home, would show my parents, and myself, that I
was truly an adult. That if I could handle the problems associated with a trip of this nature, I could
handle the problems associated with living on my own. When I returned home, I was hoping that my parents
would see the change in me. The change that comes when one becomes aware of the full responsibility of
adult life and achieves true independence from their former, pre-adult, self.
We travel on, 90 miles on 96, another 96 miles on 187, the tach stays at a steady 2,500 Rpm; the miles
click over on my new car. Then we see the bright light ahead, the sign, �1 mile to Niagara Falls, � mile
to the border�. I pull up and wait, following the directions on the sign, �Wait until platform is clear�.
When the person in front of me pulls away I start to edge forward, somewhat unsure, the officer running
the station is talking with another officer. The lady officer he is speaking with motions for me to stop
with apparent exasperation; they must have a tiring job. When she walks off the male officer motions for
me to drive forward. I carefully pull forward, even with his window. He walks over to the car and asks
where we are headed. I reply and he then begins a series of questions, where are we staying, for how long,
why are we here, do we have any illegal firearms. Wait a minute; do we have any illegal firearms?
�Why yes officer, in fact I have my Uzi sitting in the seat behind me�. Is it registered? �Why no,
I don�t think so sir, I just bought it off some guy on the street in D.C�. This is all that runs
through my head when he asks me such a silly question. It seems highly unlikely to me that anyone is
just going to inform him that they have illegal firearms aboard. More than likely they would have a
nice shoot out right there at the border gates. I put these thoughts out of my head and drive on; we
have now entered Canada, only 100 miles to go to Toronto. Wait, 100 miles? I thought it was 60?
Oh yes the lovely conversion rate, 100 kilometers, I wonder if I will get used to this?
Now we have crossed the border and I am truly free. I am officially further away from home than I have
been alone; a sudden sweeping feeling of joy fills me. I realize at once that this journey is similar to
the trials of young male Indians coming into manhood. It will measure my ability to function as an adult,
and will serve as a trial of my readiness for the responsibilities of adulthood. Although I am not
braving the outdoors or fighting for my life, I am still trying to exist within a culture different
from mine. I am trying to navigate a foreign place, find food, a place to stay, and things to do.
I am solely responsible for myself for the first time in my life. If something bad happens,
I am responsible for taking care of it; there is no calling Mom and Dad from 600 miles away to save the day.
Money will be the first issue of the day. I will need to take some time to familiarize myself with Canadian
currency and coins, as well as sales tax and conversion rates. But first, I must get there, to Toronto.
Website created by: Robert Parkhurst and Jennifer Pumphrey