Why you should never go on a road trip with me

Be warned, if you ever decide to go on a road trip with me, random, crazy things will happen.

One would have assumed a short trip to Bellingham would not have the power to produce such mayhem.

Of course, you’d be wrong.

I thought going through a border crossing in the middle of what appears to be cow (or maybe horse) fields was adventure enough.

Oh, Aldergrove, how quaint you are.

Or maybe the most excitement we’d have would be the ridiculously long line at Ross with the crying baby (obviously not ours!) and the cashier that took his job WAY too seriously.

Or maybe the wisecracking waiter/bartender that served us at Olive Garden, while we sat at the bar (I wouldn’t call it a “bar” per se), and watched all the goings on in the kitchen and the waitstaff drama.

Or, maybe it would be the fact we were in the slowest line coming back through the border (again, in the middle of the cow field) and got what appears to be the border guard (is that what they are called?) who really hates his job.

At least he didn’t pull us over.

Like he did to the 3 cars in front of us.

Maybe it was my charming smile.

I have no idea.

I mean, we had a piece of furniture in the trunk of my car.

And a whole lot of Trader Joe bags.

But no.

It was none of the US portion of the trip that proved difficult.

After crossing the border, we drive on country roads through Langley so that one of the four people on the road trip could pick up their friends vehicle, so that they could use it to drive to pick them up from the airport the next day. We transfer her purchases from my car to theirs (including the piece of furniture), and set off to follow her back to the freeway.

And, as she drives past us,  we notice one of the tires is flat.

We make a really big fuss of car horns, flashing headlights… and three blocks from the house, we all pull over on the side of the road.

Much telephoning ensues, and BCAA in on their way. Actually, the tow truck passed us twice and never stopped.

Then a family member arrives (because her family lives in Langley, aka THE COUNTRY IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE!!!) to keep her company while the rest of us take off home.

We probably should have stayed on the side of the road.

Less than 5 minutes later, we discover WHY the tow truck passed us and never slowed down.

And why that Ambulance made a U-turn in the intersection 10 minutes prior.

There was a 3 car accident in the intersection. We see two tow trucks, a fire truck, 3 ambulances, and then…. we hear a sound.

A sound that suspiciously sounds like a helicopter.

And we look up, wayyyyyy up… and…

A medvac helicopter.

Is landing.

In a school parking lot.

Half a block from us.

I thought we were in an episode of ER.

Except last time I watched ER, a helicopter dropped from the sky and landed on the mean doctor. What was his name??!! The short one?! I’ve blocked out all characters not named Green, Hathaway and Ross….

Moving on.

After a few wrong turns, a couple dead end roads and a lot of “where are we?!” We pulled over and tried to figure out how to get home using a blackberry enabled GPS and google maps. Thankfully, we figured out a way.

Or I’d still be driving around cow fields.

Unfortunately it took us to a bypass, then through the scenic township of Surrey, and TWO HOURS LATER (!!!) we finally make it back to our neighbourhood.

I’ve seen enough pastures, cows, horses and Surrey to last me until 2015.

That’s a lie.

2020. At least.