The long drive

If you could erase the few kilometres through Jasper, unsuccessfully trying to find a Tim Hortons drive-thru, the feeling over two full days and 2,000 kilometres was an overwhelming one of loneliness, but perfect cosiness.

I love to drive, so much, which definitely hasn’t always been the case, but that’s a long story for another time.

Every single drive south and back north over all of the years I’ve lived here, I’ve enjoyed immensely, but there was something so different about this drive home. It felt especially lonely and isolated, in a really good and comforting way. Many drive-thru coffees brought me such warmth and enjoyment, and random snacks of licorice, apples, hashbrowns and McDonald’s apple pies (I’m not ashamed) were all part of this comfort.

It’s difficult to describe pulling into a gas station and stepping outside instantly shivering after hours of being nestled into a heated seat. But that crispness and fresh air, that’s a deep breath and awkward stretch moment truly to savour before getting right back in my favourite ever car, fully fuelled up and ready to continue on. There’s something really beautiful in those brief moments.

It becomes like a home for those days of driving, perhaps that’s just it, and for this complete homebody, that is so, so important and perfect.

At the end of 14 hours on my first day, I pulled into a quiet hotel for the night after chasing a magnificent sunset right into the deepest twilight before total darkness. I unloaded, quickly, two boxes of tropical plants, a couple very full IKEA blue bags, my suitcase, and a few other random things before making one last trip out for the night.

This whole day was with a light-hearted but meaningful-to-me time crunch, because KFC closed at 10pm.
Part of being happy is knowing what you love, what feels good, and for me at the end of all this in a state of total exhaustion, the spicy plant-based KFC chicken sandwich meal in front of the fireplace in my dimly lit room, watching HGTV, as frivolous as that seems, made me really happy.

I know that I don’t have any photos to give even faint justice to just how beautiful the fall colours were all the way up to Yellowknife, or any words to convey that magic of feeling gentle sunrise and sunset light hitting my face in the moments between mountains or forests, but it was all unforgettable, and all of this was just another tip of the roadtrip iceberg for me.

Slowing down, sleepless nights, and a meaningful miracle at the end of a few thousand kilometres

A hyggelig day

The day before I would drive several thousand kilometres, I spent hours outside in a misty day, brushing against wet leaves feeling water droplets run down my hands, slowly picking berries from bushes. I don’t know what can be a more perfect fall day feeling. It was sleepy, quiet, but conscious and appreciating. My love of the warm oven and cosy smells all day, the fresh berries, the mess of dishes and doughs, the lighted candlesticks inside, has never been more. It’s hard to imagine it more perfect in some ways.

Vetebullar

Fyriskaka

The nights before a some 2,500 kilometre drive should have been all early bedtimes and long, sound sleeps.
I really tried to let it be so, but those nights were about the total opposite. My drive was slow, interrupted often for wildlife, photography, fika, an emergency deodorant run, and naps in the back of the car - all what a road trip should be.

The little heart cloud preceding an incredible thunder and lightning storm was somehow real, and deeply appreciated <3

For now, I hide away at a quiet cabin hundreds of kilometres further away still, endlessly craving infinite hours of sleep, but I see you again soon.