Chapter 5: Canada Tree Planting
Jim’s Chevy truck pulled over to pick up the wizened local woman hitching a ride across the Fraser River. She climbed in the cab and settled in between us. She wreaked of rough living and a long night of boozing. With a toothless grin, a lecherous wink, and a wrinkled hand on each of our knees she offered us felatio in exchange for whatever we could spare. We gave her a beer and passed on any form of repayment. The beer kept one hand out of our laps. Half the beer went in one gulp. Her eyes glazed a bit. She seemed to switch to some unintelligible mix of English and her native language and drift off into a rambling chant. Across the bridge was Prince George, our destination. For the next two to three months we were going to be planting Douglas fir for a Kiwi friend who played rugby with us in New Orleans. The other part of our “crew” (Bob, Patty, Zoe, Dave, Patsy, and the two dogs - Chanelle and Panda) were in a Volkswagen van behind us. The last few hundred miles since Ban...