Week 2 : Driving in Saskatchewan

I got a speeding ticket last week. It's been a while since I've gotten one and considering how I like to drive (I think 45 km/hr is only appropriate while in a funeral procession), it's well overdue.

One thing I noticed though is that, when the cop told me he “allegedly” caught me doing 79 in a 50, I found myself disappointed and, at the same time, reminded of this story from when I lived in Saskatchewan when I was 19.

For some reason, despite being allowed to drive, insure and own a vehicle, people under the age of 21 (and sometimes 25) are not allowed to rent cars in most provinces. I say most because, at 19, I was able to rent a car in Saskatchewan. Ha-ha.

The car I rented was a 2003 Suzuki Swift, which I can only describe as a Smart car built before they were actually smart. The thing had four doors, which was stupid; you could've pulled out the drivers seat and sit in the back row and not only could you reach the pedals, you'd still feel cramped.

In the car's defense, it was easy to parallel park: you just had to park the car nearby, get out and shoulder-push it sideways into the spot. Like I said, this car was a stupid car.

For $29 a day, I got this car with unlimited kilometers in a province with No-Fault insurance and the world's flattest and straightest highways. And I was 19. If you can't see where I'm going, then either you have never driven with a 19-year-old or you were the idiot working behind the counter at the place that rented this car to me.

I'm pleased to report that I now know the top speed of a 2003 Suzuki Swift. Its 178 km/hr. I hope you're impressed, because I know I sure as hell was. It may have been a tiny death-trap, but hell, at least it was a fast tiny death-trap. I feel obliged to mention that, in order to get the Swift up to 178, you need to hit the air vortex coming off of an 18-wheeler cattle truck going 130. And you also need to be borderline insane.

At that speed, the whole car starts shaking, you can see the windows flexing, the door panels are starting to shake off. I'm nearly shitting myself, and the car's making sounds like the Pod-Racers in Star Wars, Episode 1. There's a bumblebee trapped in the cab, looking out the window and thinking, “Holy Shit! Am I hauling ass, or what?!”

During the long weekend I had the car, I saw lot of Saskatchewan in the only way one should see Saskatchewan: through the window, flying by very quickly.

I have another posting worth of stories regarding the weekend that I've decided to save for another time, but for now I'll say this. Getting busted for doing 79 in a 50 in Vancouver is nothing when you've drag-raced a cattle truck through the prairies.

Also, if you've learned nothing else, you really shouldn't drive with me. I'm crazy. I mean, Christ, I drag-raced a cattle truck through the prairies.

Francis Brian Shaw

Thought for the day:
When I was in Saskatchewan, it got to – 35 degrees Celsius. When it got that cold, everyone kept asking me about it. “Is this cold enough for you?” “Got enough of the cold yet?” and my favorite, “Have you ever been this cold before?” I never knew what to say to the last one. “It's – 35 degree Celsius! I'm from Vancouver...I wasn't even aware the Celsius scale went down that far.”