Lost and Found… again
Tonight I went out to Coquitlam to meet up with some of my co-van-metbloggers at a gelato place. I did not partake of gelato, although I rather dreadfully wanted to. I did watch everyone else partake, and was envious.
The missed gelato opportunity, however, is not the point of this entry. You see, after leaving the gelato place I pulled out onto the street and made a right, thinking to myself that I would just find somewhere to turn around and get back to Lougheed, from where I knew how to get home. I made a turn and went past the Wal-Mart parking lot, which I recognized from the occasional visit with my mother to Wal-Mart when I lived with her in Pitt Meadows. I thought to myself, I should be able to find my way back to the highway from here, and continued on down the road…
Things started to turn residential, and I started to get nervous. There seemed to be no getting back to any street names I recognized, but rather than turn back and admit failure, I pushed onward. I came to Production Way and thought – hey, there’s a skytrain station called that, maybe I can find my way to that. I turned on Production Way and saw a bus stop saying Brentwood – another skytrain station. I figured I must be on the right track.
I saw Gagliardi Way and knew that it connected with the highway, so I turned on to it. I had yet to see one of the self-promised Skytrain stations. When you’re used to taking transit and suddenly you have to drive from place to place, everything changes…
I’m guessing now that I must have turned the wrong way, because somehow I ended up at SFU. When I recognized the hill I’d reached 69km/hr on my bike last summer, I kind of knew where I was – nowhere near where I wanted to be. And without my bike.
The view from up there at night is lovely. Or it would be if I had stopped and got out of the car to look. I was really only trying to find the lights on Grouse so I would know which way North was – but the clouds were obscuring my only known reference point. I saw a arrow on a sign that said Vancouver and promptly followed it right back down the other side of the hill I had climbed in my poor, whining car. (Huffy doesn’t like hills. It’s why we named our car Huffy.)
When Huffy and I reached the bottom, I suddenly recognized Hastings and got very excited. I knew where I was again, albeit nowhere near Highway 1 as planned. Hastings and I go way back from when I took the 160 Bus on my 3 hour transit commute from Pitt Meadows to Grouse Mountain. From that point I was found again, and I got home just fine.