Behind the DT - a fork in the road of my life

I am parked behind the David Thompson Hotel, in Kamloops, where I escaped abduction.

This was a fork in the road of my life. 

I don't remember telling anyone about it at the time, though I am fairly sure I would have told my friends. This would have been grade 8, 9 or 10. 

I knew I couldn't tell my parents, or I wouldn't have been able to hitchhike anymore. 

I am thinking younger, because I did drive my mom's car once I was able, mostly for work, but other times as well. 

It was my quick thinking and wit that had me play along, when the guys who picked me up put me between two of them in the backseat. And took a detour. At first I thought it was a wrong turn, but then asked where we were going. I can't remember the answer, but we were headed to, or were on, the Yellowhead Highway. I think they joked. A roadtrip? A party? Or ? But I guess I understood what was really happening quickly, because I played along. Said that was cool, but did they have any beer. No they didn't. Well, let's get some, I say. I'll buy. They must have believed me, because they turned around and we ended up behind the David Thompson to get offsales from the bar. In digging out my cash from my jeans, I pretended they were too tight and I couldn't get it out. They probably were tight, but it didn't matter. It was a ploy to get out of the car. And it worked. As soon as I was out of the car, I reached into my jeans.... and ran like hell.

I don't remember where I ran to, whether they chased me (I think not?), where I hid, or how I got home that day.

Did I walk to the library to get a ride home with mom!

Did I head for the very infrequent rickety old Valleyview bus?

Did I call for a ride?

Did I hitchhike back?

Or did I just carry on to wherever I was going?

I have reflected on this experience before, but haven't really thought about the context around it, and what happened next. 

The incident came sharply into focus when I once went to a John Bradshaw (?) workshop 20-odd years ago at the Vancouver Convention Centre. I met and bonded with a woman who shared the same birthday as me (only one I've ever met). And she told me about when she and her friend were abducted hitchhiking and were held for days, before they escaped or were found. The things that happened to them. It's why she was in therapy. Holy shit. I realized how lucky I had been to escape.

Unfortunately, she didn't come back to the 2nd day of the workshop, too many ghosts perhaps. We never got each other's numbers, because we would see each other the next day. Or so we thought.

I really hadn't analyzed it before then. Didn't label it as an abduction, a kidnapping, but it happened. It was also over in an hour or two, maybe less.

How often did this happen?

Who did those guys pick up next?

Bothered that I never reported it, but that was then, this is now.

Though I noticed I locked my doors when I parked here.

PS. Only today when I went to post this, did I realize that Northern BC's so-called Highway of Tears is actually the Yellowhead Highway. 

PPS. I remember telling a friend the other day about my interest (fascination?) with missing person cases, and all the podcasts I follow on this subject. Coincidence?

A place to hang my hat?

Vancouver Airport

On my layover between Victoria and Kamloops.

Nice little section of the terminal they have here, low down for all the little walk on planes, so you aren't wasting time going in and up and down and out. About a dozen gates here, no through traffic, so pretty quiet, except when there is a rush of arrivals. One Tim Horton's with very cheery peeps. If its busy, wait 5 minutes and the line evaporates. Or so it seems to me.

My carry-on bag, bought off  a

 kid in Berlin,, it always makes

me smile

I am travelling with just a carry on, but I seem to have lost my touch: my bag is stuffed. Like it better with less stuff and some spare room. Maybe if I didn't wait til the morning of my flight, I could be more decisive. But a nice chill place nonetheless.

As the plane takes off from Victoria, I feel this desire to fly, fly, fly.

Landing in Vancouver, seeing the skyline, I am hit again with a pang of missing this city. Not likely that I will live here again ($$$), but it still feels like home. Its good to process this feeling when I feel it, to understand it, to move on, to really get it that I have moved on. I have, but have I? Really?

I am "here" ~ in Sidney ~ not by design, but I am getting used to it. 7 years now. How strange. I realize I could hang my hat here. Maybe.

Or maybe it's destined to hang somewhere else.

 I am in the void of not knowing. But it's not a dark void. And it's not really limbo. It's more of accepting where I am, and being open to what's next.

Kamloops will be interesting. Old friends. Canada Day in Riverside Park? Looking forward to the reunion dinner. Staying downtown.

I kind of never looked back when I left, except for Karen's wedding... pseudo tolerated business trips, and was ok with 2 prior reunion trips. But this trip feels different. Hmmm.