I am done with this winter. But hold on. It is not even winter yet. But this is Central Alberta where autumn is forever lost. We have extended summers but no autumn.
When those summers end, we're immediately clobbered by Old Man Winter, and it does not matter one bit that it's weeks before the so-called official Dec. 21 start time for winter.
I have lived in Central Alberta for a dozen years now, and enough is enough.
This week I am in Mexico. This is radical for me. My type of holiday has always been the sort where I just jump in my vehicle and cruise the backroads of Western Canada in search of ghost towns. At night I just pitch a tent wherever it's handy.
But now I need warm sunshine and white sandy beaches. As you read this, that is where I am. Please don't resent me.
I do know, however, that after a few days or so of mingling with the sun crowd in Mexico I will begin to feel the yearning for home. Home is Canada, and it will always be. The cold is part of my DNA, and no matter how much I may whine about it, there is no better place to be on the planet.
And besides, Central Alberta certainly does not have the market cornered on early cold winters. Several years ago I lived an entire year in the Northwest Territories. Folks north of 60 have a special pride of being hearty folks, and the cold? Forget it. They are special because of it, and when their summers do come they are filled with an incredible sense of gratitude for it, reminding me that I should grab some of that too.
There is also the kinship factor. When you have lived in the North, with all the cold and ice, have survived it and continue to do what you must do on a day-to-day basis, knowing you are part of that most noble of true hearty communities, there is a unique connection between fellow folks of cold living.
A decade ago I flew by bush plane into a gold mining ghost town called Discovery, located about 75 kilometres north of Yellowknife. The mine and town closed in 1969 and for the next 35 years or so everything at the site was left exactly like it was when times were booming: dinner plates still left on the kitchen table, toys in the front yard and scores of buildings still standing proudly against all the elements.
I toured the site and ultimately found myself in the mine manager's abandoned home. Inside I found an old RCMP cap. Quite a nice relic. I held onto it for years, until last week. When I arrived in Innisfail last summer Innisfail RCMP Cpl. Jeff Hildebrandt told me he had previously served in communities in the Northwest Territories for many years. Now, the good corporal is a fine fellow, does a great job on the beat, and hey, he will forever have that northern cold DNA running in his veins. Time to exercise that special kinship. That cap is now his, and it is where it truly belongs – in the hands of a Mountie who knows all too well what cold is and how to embrace it.
As for me, I am still in Mexico, on the beach, watching the gorgeous blue ocean, and taking a break from being a true Canuck, for a few days anyways.
