Driving's a gas
Trip Start
Feb 24, 2005
1
2
Trip End
Feb 27, 2005
Loading Map
Map Options
Show trip route
Hide lines
Courtenay, British Columbia, Canada
Thursday, February 24, 2005
The newish Island Highway that whisks us inland is ridiculously free of cars at this time of night. The only evidence of people are the signs that flash up occasionally, promising lodging, gas and a late-night slice of pie if we'd only just take the next exit.
The tiny Esso station at Qualicum Beach has a SUV parked in front, but the gas pump is locked. "Maybe we should turn back to Parksville," Julie ventures, but I'm in one of those Man In Charge moods and snort at her suggestion. Courtenay, here we come.
It's a bit further to Courtenay than I remember. Exits for Bowser and Union Bay flash past, but if the relatively metropolitan town of QB doesn't let its gas attendant out after dark, there's not much hope at these villages.
Since Julie and I are already tense about this latest fuel shortage, I guess it seems to Emma a good time to add a bit more atmosphere.
"Dad, it upsets me when you get so disappointed about my marks."
Huh?
Emma's lecture on how I could be more sensitive to her potential C's in French and Science continues as the needle edges down. On the one piece of highway with a posted limit of 110 km/h, I slow down to 70 to try to save gas. The occasional car flashes past, mometarily lighting up the trees and deer fence. Sure is dark out there. Not the best night for hitchhiking...
"There's a sign that says 'Hitchhiking is illegal'," points out Julie. "We'll have to call a cab."
We? As far as I know, I'm the only person with a phone in this car. I guess if "we" don't call, "we" will have to walk.
Our internal monologues and the occasional "chunk" as a tire finds a cat's eye fill up the silence inside the car. The baby screams for a few minutes to add that last bit of tension. She finally falls asleep, and we're left in silence, listening to the sound of a gas gauge falling.
We glide into Courtenay on fumes. I put 40.2 litres of gas into our 40 litre tank, and buy a round of chocolate bars to celebrate our survival. Next stop, Mt. Washington.
