True to shifts in form, the account of being in Edmonton will be presented differently. Whereas all days in this 2 week journey had been previously given the treatment of their own post, a single post will be given in consideration of the time between here and my departure from Edmonton, then another post to detail the drive back to Hay River ending the vacation.
I had thought a while about how to describe the time in Alberta's capital city, and decided to reflect the journey as it was felt in the separate halves of Canmore and Edmonton. Both places offered so much, but so differently. Where Canmore gave a day by day package of surprising and captivating moments, Edmonton offered something of an "overall" experience. I find it hard to wax poetic over a city sometimes, with nature making it impossible not to get wordy.
And now, in a nutshell of generous size and capacity, I give you Edmonton.
***
Arriving in the supper hour of April 24, the evening was somewhat low key. We made time for relaxation and supper, opting to go out for an evening of drinking across the river on Whyte Avenue. Already tired, the evening felt more like a lucid dream than any sort of ambitious undertaking. We drifted aimlessly, settling on a pub with an open mic, a rather lucky find in a publication we picked up earlier in the evening.
Just edging my way into the closing slot, I felt on for those three songs. I cranked out a few hits from my repertoire and did well to gain some applause. Another performer approached me after with a full list of open mics in the city, offering the opportunity to basically do an impromptu city wide tour to be paid in alcohol and the like. Our evenings had a direction, and we made it to an open mic every night save for our final evening there, even making it to two in one night midweek.
The consumption of alcohol was of a staggering quantity in Edmonton. In Canmore it was always present but definitely less pressing. With Brad, I uttered a phrase that first morning in the hotel room that would set the tone for our week together in relation to the creature. As I lifted my head around 9:30am, I poured a stiff drink over ice. Brad, though not surprised by my determination, suggested it may be a little early to have a drink. I replied through dry lips that "I wasn't having a drink, I had begun drinking". An immense difference, the explanation was satisfactory enough to bring Brad around to my logic and he himself settled in to a cold beer.
Upon waking every morning we worked almost ritualistically to bring ourselves to beginning the day. We would rotate showers, coffee duty, and we would spend easily an hour just throwing the covers back from our respective slumbers in order to proceed with any plans. After breakfast or brunch, we would venture in to the daylight hours of Edmonton.
Each day started with a music shop, a bounty of which existed on Whyte Avenue and the area. Some were average, run of the mill shops with a lacking selection, these ones appearing more on the way out of business. Other shops were top of the line, great selections, eager salespeople, and a stronger hold in the local market. Two particular shops I recalled were the big chain store that looked so unappealing that I was surprised when inside that the selection was huge and very current. Another store was brilliantly baffling and so crammed with instruments that I could hardly gather it all in. This store would have a $300 no name guitar next to a $4500 Gibson next to a $15,000 Martin.
Lunch or supper was always met with a pairing of life's finer liquids, my appetite for rye, scotch, and coffee liqueurs always alive. We found ourselves in pizza or pub mode a few nights, one night opting to barbecue at Brad's friend's place, another we had spent the day apart, dining alone, the last evening together going on all out a steak dinner. We truly ate and drank like kings that week, and I felt we made the most of what the city gave us. We often marked the beginning of evening back at the hotel wasting off the meal hangovers, drinks in hand with blank stares, TV on. I knew when it was time when Brad or I would remark that the city is not the greatest, but we are truly having a great time. With that, we were off.
As mentioned, we were hounding every open mic in the city that week. Brad, a hell of a guitar player, played only once, while I do believe I played each of the 8 or so we visited. We saw all manner of music in that week from rock to country, punk to blues, and mixes of many more. For the record I would have to say that was the most live music I have ever taken in over such a span of time, a wonderful experience.
We did spend one day apart, Brad going to a museum, myself stupidly opting out to spend the day with a girl I had met at the previous evening's open mic. She was a nice and beautiful girl, but I was merely testing my waters. A few days before I had made some sort of resolution to try and put my past to rest, and figured a one-off hangout with a total stranger was as good way as any to see if I could proceed, however cautious. I found that I could be at ease, but I was a long shot from even wanting to venture in to any realm of connection.
Early evening at the hotel I enjoyed some scotch and waited a short time to see if Brad would call for supper. After a couple of hours I headed out for pizza, and as if fate itself wanted to reinforce my decision that I was not yet ready to enter the land of the loving again, my phone rang upon ordering my first beer. It was Wendy. She had called for some familiar support in a time of mourning, and I had to do my best to be the shoulder she needed. I wanted desperately to unleash my feelings but it was hardly the time for it. We talked for a bit and I bid her good evening, meeting up with Brad a short time after finishing supper.
On our final evening in Edmonton, Brad and I treated ourselves to a steak dinner that still stands as the best cut of meat I have ever eaten. When we arrived at the steak house, we were under the impression that it was of the modern family chain variety and we dressed accordingly, electing for a casual attire just above pajamas. Walking through the front door we were met with opulence, grand decor, suits and ties, immediately feeling quite out of place. The hostess asked if we had intended to be here or had come by mistake, in unison we replied "both". She looked us over, went against her judgement and allowed us to sit in the pub side, in the back, nearest the largest shadows.
Truthfully, we took a booth just inside the door, and we were treated fantastically. All details of each dish we ordered were explained to their furthest extent, and we enjoyed scallops, amazing mushroom platters, potatoes and steak. The steak was obviously their signature item, and they made good on their assertions. Searing each side to close the flavor in, it was flash cooked at nearly 1500 degrees for about 45 seconds, served on its own plate with a generous chunk of butter melting through as it is set on the table. We were filled to say the least, each of us enjoying two coffees with several ounces of alcohol in each while we waited out our lethargy.
A last trip on the town brought us full circle to the bar we had visited the first evening we were in Edmonton. Later in the evening I recognized the bartender from high school, each of us somewhat shocked we had not seen each other since graduating and would run in to each other here, some 5000 kilometers from home. Our exit from the bar was swift and hilarious, all tributes going to Brad. He had gone for a dance move near the stage, slipping in a spilled drink and grabbing the stage monitor for balance. The monitor, decades from sturdy, came over with Brad, the 100 pound speaker just missing his head as he rolled out of the way. Back on his feet, Brad replaced the monitor, grabbed me and we headed for the door, laughing the whole cab ride to the hotel.
Friday morning, we woke up earlier for breakfast as Brad had to get to the airport for his flight back to New Brunswick. Unceremoniously, we said our goodbyes as his shuttle pulled up, both of us worse for wear from a rather action packed week. I had just started the truck when Brad called me from the airport, a message of conviction that the week had taken its toll, a sign of victory. We had surely had a good time.
Edmonton, though attractive enough, did not do it for me. I secretly wished I had met Brad in Calgary and then headed right back to Canmore for another week. The city was extremely accessible: bicycles abound, an honor system train service, and reasonable cab fares. All of these factors making every reach of the city possible to see, we did so, and still I felt a blandness. The people were great, but whatever it was, something was lacking. I would surely visit again, but only for a night or two. I believe any distaste I felt would be attributed to having overstayed my own welcome, and I had simply missed my queue to leave earlier. Nonetheless, amazing people and a hell of a time.
I made haste for Grande Prairie for the final evening away, a fitting last stop on the circuit I had picked as it was the same place, same hotel, same room where I had spent the first evening of the two week journey. The next day, I would drive 7 hours back to Hay River, picking up Carter along the way, a reunion I desperately awaited. I thought of him all that day's drive, making little note of a few vistas and one amazing train bridge, stopping only for gas, and once in the pouring rain to fix a wiper.
In to Grande Prairie, I stopped for supper and picked up a couple beer, retreated to my room and promptly fell asleep after a few bottles. I had intended to go out and celebrate the trip, but this seemed appropriate, and a few drinks at the real end the next day would be just as appreciated.
I slept heavily, but not before a deep regret of not booking a longer vacation. I hated the fact that it was ending, but I would soon see my dog, later see the North begin to thaw out, and later yet, finally see the merits of my hard work addressed.
Vacation, unbeknown to me, had changed everything I thought I knew about my current place in life. Tomorrow I was saying goodbye to the open road, but not for long.
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