Freedom by Truck in Canada

 

The place I feel most free may not sound free’: it’s dark, small, and I do a lot of sleeping there. No, it’s not a room under the stairs, a storage closet, or a woodshed. My place of ultimate freedom beat the lonely waves of the Pacific Ocean, the expansive sand dunes in the Gobi desert, and the formidable Rocky Mountains. This place where I feel the most free doesn’t have room for a fridge or a stove, but I live there anyway. Give up? It’s the back of my truck.
So now you know I’m homeless, or at least I don’t live in a home like a ‘normal’ person. Don’t feel pity, I live in my truck by choice. I bet you’re wondering what made me leave my apartment, quit my job, sell my possessions, and hit the road in a 6’ X 4’ X 4’ padded, slightly ventilated box. The answer has a lot to do with freedom, and the unexpected places life can take you.
For years the majority of my waking hours were spent inside an office, and one day the single glimpse of the sunset on my way home from work didn’t seem like enough. I wanted to see the sun set over the ocean, mountains, and the prairies. It was time to see the world with my own eyes, not in a magazine, a newspaper, or a photoshopped jpeg.
After a resignation letter, notice to my landlady, weeks of Kijiji sales, and five Goodwill drop-offs, all I had owned was my truck and its contents. I had kicked out my work-self and my consumer-self, and giving the driver’s seat to the self that was less concerned with appearance and expectations. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t scared to hit the road, but this time excitement was riding shotgun, fear got the backseat.
Everyone was supportive, but not everyone understood why I left my home and job to live in a truck. The answer is freedom, and my freedom is possibilities: not knowing what to expect, where I’m going, who I’ll meet. Knowing my future was comfortable, but the unknown beckoned me with an irresistible call.
It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, the truck fogs up when I sleep, I’m at constant risk of being kicked out by the security, and there’s no running water. But I go and stay anywhere I want and do whatever I want to do. I’ve been cramped, hungry, tired, and dirty, but I wouldn’t have it another way. I’m enjoying life more than I ever did working in an office: I’ve watched the sun rise over a lake in Northern British Columbia, explored tidal pools on the Pacific coast, and SCUBA-dived shipwrecks in Georgian Bay. I look forward to sunny days more than I ever did before; I appreciate comforts from my old life, but also realize I don’t need everything I thought I needed. I want to put my arms around every day and hold it close until the sun goes down.
Rolling out of the back of a truck in a parking lot doesn’t sound like the beginning of the best day of your life, but living in a truck has taught me that no matter where you wake up it’s what you do with your time that counts, not where you sleep.
About the Author: Heather left it all behind to travel across Canada in her truck. After she visits every province, she’s not sure what she’ll be up to but is open to suggestions, as long as they don’t involve getting back into an office.

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Feeling the urge to take a road trip in Canada?  WSGT found these travel books and gear to help you prepare.

 Lonely Planet Canada:  The best guide there is to Canada.

North America Atlas:  Figure out where you’re going!

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