Filling The Bucket
I’m a Boomer, and I just
chalked up the three score I’m allotted, but I expect a lot more than ten more.
I figure I have the genes, temperament and persistence to live to about 95.
That means I have 35 years or so to do everything on my bucket list.
It’s not very long, I’ve
been filling it in like a birder’s life list since forever. I’ve been hang
gliding, the closes thing to bird flight there is, and felt the lift of the
wind in the silence above the pines. I’ve been scuba diving on the Barrier Reef
off Belize, sitting on the pure white sand bottom,
watching Hammerheads swim over me. I’ve flown over the Great Divide at dawn in
a helicopter, listening to Bach and watching the rising sun glint off the high
snowfields.
I’ve power-hiked through
cathedrals of trees as old as history, uplifted by the dense, deafening
silence. I’ve hiked out on the gunwale in 30 knots of wind, racing for harbour
before the sheets of rain come. I’ve slept in the snow, snug in my sleeping bag
beneath a recent fall, waking to shake the flakes out of my eyes. I’ve hitched
a locomotive ride on a freight train across the valleys of New England in the
full flame of fall.
I’ve had a small but
important influence in national affairs, I’ve seen the temples of Palenque
under the moonlight when no one else was there. I’ve woken up every May 10th
for 15 years to see the False Pear tree in the backyard as white with blossoms
as a huge ice cream cone.
There are a few things
I’d like to do, mostly because they weren’t available previously. I’d like to
fly First Class on an Airbus A380 to London, with the separate
cabin with living room, bedroom and bathroom with a shower. I’d return from
this trip in a balcony cabin on the Queen Mary 2. I’d like to see the
Drakensberg Mountains in South Africa, as battlemented as a gigantic castle.
I’d like to work on an archaeological dig on Norse remains in North America.
A constant theme in my
bucket list is sleeping while traveling. I took the Via Rail Canadian across the country to Banff with my wife, in a suite, and sleeping to the
clickety-click of the rails is as romantic as they say it is. It isn’t
generally known, but the transcontinental service has one super suite on each
train, which sleeps 5 and has the only shower aboard. It’s located under the
observation dome on the tail end car
That trip across Canada
by train bears special remembering. It was one of the very last departures to
take the southern route, through Calgary and Banff. The country was gripped in
a brutal cold spell, and half the trains leaving Toronto weren’t making it
(ours did). The sun had set when we left Toronto, and Sudbury came about midnight.
Our beds were warm and they rocked with the motion of the train. We woke the
next morning in Wawa, the train sheathed in ice, and we watched as they loaded
crates of still-flapping trout for our breakfast. All afternoon the train was
filled with the smell of the roast cooking for dinner that night, with mashed
potatoes and fresh-baked hot rolls, all made from scratch on board.
Another magic night’s
sleep in our warm cabin, watching the Boreal Forest click by. Midnight in
Winnipeg, so cold spit froze before it hit the ground. We bundled up and walked
the platform for air, amazed that a train so sheathed in ice (from escaping
steam) could function. The rest of the night into the prairies, then breakfast
in Saskatchewan. Teatime in Calgary and bed-time in Banff and the trip was
over.
Although the
Canadian travels the northern route through Edmonton and Jasper now,
and crosses the Rockies at night, it is still a bucket list item that every
Canadian should try once. The stainless steel 1960s running stock was built for
the ages and has recently been refurbished - the dome cars and the sleeping
cars will still be there for a while. It’s a trip never to be forgotten, and
the lullaby of the rails is magic.
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