Radio Silence (Part 1)

Fsssssshhhhhhh.
Fsssssshhhhhhhhhhh.

It's that sound you hear when you're driving in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night and can't get a signal on any band. This was back when radio ruled - no tape decks, no CDs, certainly no MP3s, iPods or satellite stations.

Fsssssshhhhhhh.
Fsssssshhhhhhhhhhh.

Radio Silence.

We have a cacophony now.  Day, time, location, bandwidth - these all used to be important factors on whether you'd get a signal, but don't seem to matter much anymore, now that we can get sound and motion and connection almost anywhere we go (coming soon to a National Park near you.)

So what did radio silence signify?  Sometimes, it meant that you'd been running just a little bit too far or pushed it a bit too late into the journey and you ought to park it for the night.  Sometimes it was the opposite - you'd started out keen, fresh and ready, way before civilized folk were ready to join you. Just you and the farmers (and they didn't have time to run radio stations.)


Fsssssshhhhhhh.
Fsssssshhhhhhhhhhh.

When I was about 13, my father, mother, one sister and I headed from Vancouver, BC to Roblin, Manitoba to visit my grandparents.  Four other siblings were unaccounted for - I'm guessing the older 2 were already out of the house and maybe the other 2 had some really great parties at home while we were gone. 

My father saw no reason to stop between Vancouver and Roblin, other than for some occasional food and watering, as we were (apparently) on a mission to arrive as quickly as possible.  Both grandparents were, at that time, in pretty good health, so not sure exactly what the rush was, but so it was. 

We were driving a Datsun Sportruck.  Anyone know what that is?  Imagine a very small truck, then shrink it by 15%.  We did NOT have the longbed (the yellow one in the picture).  We had the regular bed (see picture - same blue as ours.)  It had room for two in the front and we had an after-market canopy, so two more could ride in the back bed - uncomfortable, for sure, but at least not getting rained on.  (PS - This would be HIGHLY DISCOURAGED / ILLEGAL today.)


Clearly, I was too young to drive (although perhaps not in Manitoba wheat fields, if my second cousins were to be believed),
and my sister, at 17, was only given daylight shifts in Alberta or Saskatchewan.  So most of the driving chores fell to my dad and my mom.  But since they each needed some sleep from time to time, my sister and I had to alternate in riding shotgun for one or the other of them.

On the downside, I have a vivid memory of driving through the Rockies on a foggy night, blasting the air vents at my eyes so much that they hurt and pinching my arms periodically because I was terrified that I would fail in my duty to keep my parent awake and prevent him/her from killing us all (BTW - I woke up 3 hours later in the back bed of the truck.  Miraculously, we were all still fine.  I believe I sent a 'thank you' card to the people who made Wake-Ups pills when I got home - my parents were popping those like cherry Nibs the whole trip.)     OR ??


On the upside (and this 'Lesley 2.0' journey is all about the upside), we hit some fantastic moments of Radio Silence, when there was nothing on the Sportruck radio but static and we had a reason to turn it off.  We'd maybe talk a little bit.  It was dark, so words came a little easier - which is helpful when you're 13 and words aren't coming very easily at all.

And we'd get to see the beauty in the vast inky blackness.  A startling display of the Aurora Borealis (many years later, I wanted to name my first child Aurora - my husband wisely disagreed).  Or a mind-bending illustration of time and space, as the approaching headlights on the Prairies seemed close enough to touch but then took 20 minutes before we passed. Or a small town off the road, with a porch light or two still lit, to catch the eyes of the night travelers so we could refocus, re-energize and continue on our way. 

So that's a story about running it just a little bit too far and pushing it a bit too late (yet still finding  incredible upside.)

What about the other side of that coin?  Starting out keen, fresh and ready? 
Stay tuned for Part 2.