Not Our Usual Trip On Highway 3

The line of cars stretched around the corner and probably beyond.

When Linda and I departed from Abbotsford last Thursday, we anticipated the usual uneventful drive back to Hedley. Stopping in Hope for coffee to go, we received our first indication things might be different this trip. Two ambulances with sirens screaming rushed by to the east at race track speed.

By the time we passed through Manning Park we had forgotten about them. Then, approximately 50 km. west of Princeton, the traffic slowed markedly and came to a full stop. The line of cars stretched to the next corner and probably beyond. People were already emerging from their vehicles, stretching bodies stiff from prolonged sitting.

An elderly man with a long white beard stood beside his pickup, agitatedly scanning the rugged terrain. On the right side of the highway he faced a precipitous drop to the river below. On the left the rocky mountain rose abruptly. I wondered about the source of his evident discomfort until he determinedly set off at an awkward, hurried gait toward a sparse clump of bushes at the edge of the roadway. He disappeared from view. After a few moments he reappeared and jauntily returned to his vehicle. Next a woman of about 40, in a pink party dress skittered toward the bushes on high heels. The bushes quickly became a popular source of sanctuary. Most ladies apparently were reluctant though and demonstrated remarkable forbearance.

We had come somewhat prepared to weather any short term wait. We ate the sandwiches, bran muffins and fruit Linda had assembled. For some time we listened to John Grisham’s “The Rain Maker.” Then we joined others walking along the side of the highway. Initially the conversations between all these strangers consisted mostly of “heard anything?” A young man on a skateboard had gone to the head of the line. “A transport truck rolled and struck a van and there are injuries,” he reported. “Police are there and a chopper has flown out the casualties. We’ll be here a couple of hours.”

I was reminded of the Hope Slide in 1965 in which several vehicles were crushed and 4 people died. On that occasion Highway 3 was closed several days. It occurred to me our situation would be difficult if this was winter, with freezing temperatures and abundant snow. It was a reminder we need to prepare more fully for future trips in mountainous terrain. I wondered if the woman in the party dress and high heels was having similar thoughts.

Yann-Allegre on Unsplash

The skateboarder returned and said, “They’re going to open the road in one to five minutes.” We scurried to our vehicles and waited hopefully. No movement. Fifteen minutes later the skateboarder returned and said, “Sorry, now they expect it will be another three hours.”

Some people were becoming impatient. Cars and pickups began leaving the line and turning back, probably to access the Coquihalla. A semi just ahead of us could not turn on the narrow strip of highway. Once again people emerged from their vehicles. Conversations became longer. There seemed to be a sense that we might as well use the time profitably. When Linda met a woman from Taber, Alberta, she said, “I was born in Taber. Do you know my cousin Merv Craddock?” She did and they were instant friends. A woman from Princeton told me she and her husband had recently bought a small ranch in the area. “Do you know Don and Thalia?” I asked. “Yes,” she responded. “We’ve helped them on their ranch.”

At about 5 pm, we were again told the police were going to open the highway. Hurrying to our car, we passed the man with the long white beard, slumbering peacefully behind the steering wheel of his pickup. A little farther along, the lady in the pink dress had not heard the news. She was pouring herself a drink from a large brown flask. Back in our car, I was reminded that along the highway of life we are certain to encounter adventures and challenges. How we respond will depend on our thinking.

Traffic control wouldn’t let us stop to take a photo, so this was taken as we were driving passed the accident scene.

As we passed the accident scene we saw the semi lying on its side, the dark underbelly exposed. It occurred to me that compared to the unhappy event that had overtaken the people in this accident, our little ordeal was no more than an insignificant hiccup. I did hope the lady in the pink dress would arrive at the party or wedding on time.

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