Trans-Frontier

What a weird day! What a scary day…!
So many useless comes and goes, so much repeated Port Mann Bridge crossing, when the border is not that close. Because before crossing it, I need my return ticket. Because before crossing it, I need a word from mum. Then, in between Stapples ink, in between Canadian Tire wellies, I accomplish my last tasks. When I am done, I can drive to another America, from my past towards my future.
Meeting the most surprising radio station – only Christmas songs – I dance around my wheel to fly away my anxiety related to this new flags’ demarcation. And I am definitely not prepared… I go through at least three panic attacks and spend an hour explaining who I am and why, being French, I cross from Canada with an Alaskan car. After they have stolen my tomatoes and avocados, but not my apples – lucky ones! -, I can keep going on my adventures with the American government’ approval….

I have left Canada behind and it is time for a statement…
Leaving Canada today is not painful; because I know for sure a piece of fate awaits for me there, I only have to be patient, knowing the invisible is not visible yet, revealed step by step, only waiting for me. Leaving Canada today is a perfect serendipity; because I lingered the time I needed to be ready to reach the other side of North America. It is now time to deal with what brought me here, I don’t exactly know what, but I am getting closer.
Canada always makes me go to my deepest depth in a very subtle way. Its telluric force moves and heals my inner. Maybe because I turned 30 there, maybe because I got closer to Seattle or maybe just because Canada does that to me. Canada reconnects me with who I am, with all my differences. Already during my 28 days in Eastern Canada, my travel diaries soon shifted to deep revelation tales. This time, it was not revelations, it pointed out the obvious. Obvious truths that I don’t have to erase or change, that I now utterly embrace. Canada shines with a real peaceful energy in my heart. Nothing is a problem there; then, I can accept none of my realities are problems either.
Thus, this time, Canada helped me to get ready, Canada healed me. Deeply.

And the day is already almost over without having truly begun. For sure, I won’t see Mount Baker today; for sure, I won’t get there before night time. The road is quite boring to be fair, except for one bright piece of light piercing clouds. It is already dark, I persist to my destination as terrifying trees stand invisible in the dark though. I cross a dam by night. I drive dirt roads. And I finally randomly settle in the middle of nowhere, too scared to go further or backward, almost as frightened as Snow White after her run in the forest. My heart still pounding, I look out for drops which might sound like bears, I can’t wait for tomorrow’s daylight.
I then realize that I am not really afraid of the dark, I actually hate being visible in the dark. But once I am dark myself, nothing scares me anymore, because I blend into the night and nobody can see me either. We are all equal, we all live in the invisible and safe darkness. Now reassured, I can enjoy my improvised movie night in immortal rain noise.

Awaken by the tireless rain, Mount Baker still invisible, urged by my bladder, I cross the dam once again, way less scary in the fog than in the rain. Arrived to the trail head, mossy trees protect me. I even get a glimpse of a porcupine under a rock in front of my lights. The walk is so sweet, a perfect start for a new strange day. Although the lake and the Mount – both Baker- are absolutely invisible behind the fog curtain, behind the forest coat. I therefore shorten my hike that I wouldn’t have finished even by a clear day… Walking 14 miles is too long for 40 hours trip in 10 days!

Justine T.Annezo – Dec. 3rd-4th 2019, from Canada to the US – GMT -8 


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