Why’d The Chickens Cross The Road?

Bus Assumptions

There are more conspicuous ways to travel than by a large yellow school bus with a green roof rack, rally stickers, and a 3.8 litre diesel engine. That is to say, we weren’t often the least obvious or quietest thing around us, and people often noticed our vehicle.

Onlookers fell into several categories.

Those who make wild assumptions about our bus:

We were pulled up by the shores of Mescal Lake (or something to that effect), with a nice sprawling campsite that featured five tents parked around our bus. As we sat, two Canadian teenagers on BMX bikes circled the campground. Around and around they went, until, finally, one shouted “Buenos noches,” at us.

“Hola! Comma etas,” we shouted back, using the most rudimentary pleasantries of the language.

As they quickly biked away, we heard one say to his buddy, “See, I told you they were Mexicans.”

It’s difficult to say exactly what tipped them off. Perhaps it was our formidable command of Spanish. Equally, it could have been our American school bus, the red-headed Canadian we had on board, our blonde American, or the fact that the sunlight bounced off our skin with such vigor as to blind those around us.

This was the first of many wildly inaccurate and exciting assumptions that we got over the course of our drive through Canada.

• In a Yukon hot springs, one oil worker who had seen our bus was kind enough to ask: “So, are you part of a cul—church group?”
• Later down the road, a young man wandered up and tried to acquire drugs from us.
• In the Canadian Rockies, an elderly couple inquired if we were in a band. Perhaps a cover of the Dixie Chicks. (To her credit, Amber offered to sing a song.)
• Near Banff, a small mountain community, a youngster proudly recognized us as the South Park bus.
• Finally, during our last night in Canada, we were parked next to a raucous camp that played acoustic guitar and sang loudly into the night. The next morning, as Sarah visited the washroom, a camper from a different site heard Sarah saying how she had eventually asked our neighbors to be quiet. “Oh—you told those loud campers with the school bus to be quiet?” was her response.

It’s hard to pigeon-hole something that occasionally looks like something out of a Fellini film. But it’s a delight to see people try.

Those who pretend not to notice us:

Sometimes, an onlooker would do a short double take and then quickly turn away. As if they were scared of us piling out and playing the banjo at them, trying to convert them, or just generally being weird.

Those who notice us:

These folks often stood slack-jawed waiting to see exactly what we were all about. Some people would wave, some would honk cheerfully, some would flip us the bird. A few wandered over to see what we were on about, why we had a school bus, and where we were going.

Depending on team morale, the answer could range anywhere from “We’re driving to South Carolina,” (this we said when we were tired) to “This is our bus, and we’re driving around the world! No—really. As in, we started in the Carolinas, shipped it to England, drove it to Vladivostok via way of Romania, the Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Mongolia. Now we’re driving it home via way of Alaska and the Yukon.”

The former answer, surprisingly, often garnered more responses than the latter. Driving the circumference of the globe on roughly the 45th parallel is hard to conceptualize and harder still to believe.

Those who really don’t notice us:

Because sometimes a big school bus still remains covert.

Dear Developing World,

My reintroduction to the 1st world has been greeted with lots of “Ehs” , “Sorrys”, and “Holas”…… a level of decorum I’m not accustomed to since becoming a well-seasoned veteran of Russian-Siberian glares and skepticism. Canadians, however are a non-imposing nation, these folks can throw down the occasional misperception with flawless tact. Two examples include thinking our school bus is a Dixie Chicks Cover Band or Mexican Coyote Wagon. My only hope is that 1) I learn Spanish while in Canada to not blow our cover or 2) I do as poor a job singing as I did at being the Local Kazakh Tour Guide.

An enumerated list of observations while in Canada AKA “Civilized Siberia”:

1) There are more options for candy bars beside Snickers or Twix. We now have KitKats.

2) Jade Town should be called Jaded Town

3) Drinking homemade apple cider and chasing black bears into the woods is an unofficial recognized Canadian pastime in Cache Creek

4) Havana exports their ol’ cars to British Columbia

5) Loonie and Toonie funnels are a thing

6) Onboard satellite landfills have become a substitute for the lack of publicly open landfills that our team used as campsites in Kazakhstan. Just a way of bringing a little home to us

7) Fun factoid, Hyder, Alaska is running out of food because a Black Bear named “Food Stamp” is eating all of their grub

8) It’s a small world, big planet. On the Alaskan Highway you’ll meet Russian truck drivers, just as you will throughout Russia and Central Asia

9) Laconic ski Bros and Bras can be shamefully dignified by their liberal use the words ‘Za (Pizza) and ‘Chos (Nachos)

10) After a shower, do not try to air dry in Canadian air. Buy a towel. You. Will. Freeze.

Sincerely the closest member of Latin/Mexican representation on this Dixie Chick Cult Swagon,

Buenos ‘Chos,

Tomas

As the Honorary Embassador for the Team Dixie Chickens’ trek across Western Canada

I have had my eyes opened to the many shortcomings of my country. And so, because of this I am sending a note to the Prime Minister of Canada, Stephen Harper in order to rectify some of the grievances faced by my American counterparts as they travelled the British Columbian countryside. It is as follows:

Dear Mister Prime Minister,

Please fix these things (in order of least importance):

-More Craft Breweries in Quesnel, Stewart, and Fort St. John;

-More snow but if it could be warmer, that would be much appreciated;

-If we could also increase the rate in which we are succumbing to Global Warming, doubly appreciated;

-Shorter roads in between cities;

-More cuddly wildlife, less threats of having a grizzly bear stalk and then disembowel you while you sleep;

-Cheaper gas;

-Smarties are actually Rockets not Smarties;

-More emphasis placed on how great Trailer Park Boys is as a cultural icon, more statues and plaques, please;

-Cheaper cigarettes.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

I know that you will review these complaints with the same grace and patience you show everyday as the fierce leader of our apparently overly polite country.

Best regards and respect,

Amber Barker