The wagon train: Alberta-bound
// August 14th, 2007 // Blog, Kris's Soapbox
“This is not going to work,” Dave said as he stood on the step in front of our house in Saskatoon, watching me haul my big-ass suitcase through the door. “We’re f#@ked.”
I smiled at him and watched as Pat emerged behind me, hauling his own big-ass suitcase.
“We are so f#@ked,” Dave repeated. He opened the back of the van and showed us the incredible lack of space. The minimal storage space was already packed with bags. Seven of us were to fit in to the van, and we still had to account for seven people’s luggage as well as some set pieces “and two guitars,” Dave said. “Who the f#@k brings guitars on tour? Here. Let me just move my alto sax so you can get your bag in here.”
The caravan moved to pick up Chris Bange, from The Medicine Show. More bags. One more guy. Then on to pick up the chick from Lola in Slacks. More bags. Another guitar. Another person. Then on to pick up the rest of the Tangelico gang. More bags. Two more people. A stew pot. No road trip is complete without a stew pot. One never knows when one will be struck with the urge for stew.
We hauled all of the luggage out of the van on to the sidewalk. Seven weary travellers spent many minutes gazing at the pile of stuff, then at the van, then at the other travellers. “We’re f#@ked,” Dave muttered. We thought about touring naked. We thought about tying things to the roof. We thought about stacking the women on top of one another (they’re small). “We are so f#@ked,” Dave muttered again. At this point it may surprise you to hear that Dave teaches English, but I have it on good authority that he focuses on literature because he eschews vocabulary.
Ultimately the alto sax and a sandwich board were left behind, and we managed to get everything in to the van.
Nobody would be able to move on the six-hour drive to Edmonton, mind you.
In Lloydminster (my old elementary school stomping grounds!) we stopped at the mall for a bite and a shift change, so that we could all let new parts of our bodies go numb for the second part of the ride.
We arrived in Edmonton mid-evening, weary and sore but otherwise intact, and preparations for the Edmonton Fringe will begin in earnest tomorrow. Patrick is flying back to Ottawa tonight so he can be at a funeral tomorrow, and will return a mere few hours before our first performance on Thursday night.
