6/14/22

After my stop at the paperclip, I met up with Ken at the only motel in town, the Kipling Motor Inn. He got there about an hour before me and had already showered and ate. He was going across the street to the local bar for a beer after a long rainy day. That sounded pretty good and am going to join him after cleaning up myself. There's nothing better than a hot shower after a long day of riding.

I walked across the street to find a dimly lit bar with about ten tables and a foosball and pool table. Ken was seated at a small table with a plate of fries. The only other patrons were a rather loud group across the bar, most likely regulars. I grabbed a Canadian beer from the bar tender, a masked up girl with a soft voice.

I sat down across from Ken and he started to tell me that he was already vetted by a couple of the girls from the other table. They wanted to know why he was in Kipling and one girl took a particular liking to his plate of fries. A few minutes later, a girl came over to ask if I was the friend that Ken was waiting for. She was a bit loud and blunt but there was something likeable about her. She wanted to know why I was in Kipling. She couldn't believe that we both came here to see the paperclip. Why anyone would come here to this little place to see a giant paper clip was beyond her. What also blew her mind was that " You're an Asian without an Asian accent!" I laughed out loud. She may have been a little drunk but there was no meanness behind her comment, just an earnest and innocent statement. The owner of the motel and bar was Korean and I presume he had an accent. Nonetheless, I wasn't offended.

I asked her name and introduced myself. Her said her name is Lindsay and I couldn't help but wanted to know more about her. She from Kipling originally and despite leaving town for a while and living in the city, she chose to return here. A familiar story from people escaping their small towns only to find themselves drawn back in. Her bluntness doesn't just apply to other people, she proclaims she's a "half-breed, redneck, hillbilly." Half breed because her mom is Cree and I suppose hillbilly because she's content with living in tiny Kipling even though there are no hills around as far as I could see. It's pretty damn flat around here.

She then invited me to sit with her and her friends. I gladly accepted and then spent the rest of the night talking with Lindsay and her friends. Her boyfriend Travis is from a neighboring town, Windthorst and works at an oil rig in another neighboring town. I saw quite a few oil rigs on my ride into town. I met another guy not much over late 40s who's already retired and now just travels the world. I guess working at the rigs pay pretty well.

Lindsay asked about my trip and she couldn't believe that I was traveling all over and up to Alaska. She insists that it's great that me and Ken are traveling all over but she has no desire to do any of that. There's a lot of subtle pressure out there that to achieve a fulfilling life we need to go out there and do and see everything. Clearly, I enjoy going everywhere and seeing everything. But there's also something tranquil with knowing what you're happy with and being satisfied with that. I don't know if that's exactly how she feels but she seems very content with her life here in Kipling. I can see the simple pleasures of living in a town like this.

Out of nowhere, she slides a Canadian $20 bill across the table.

"What's that for?"

"It's for your trip."

"I can't take your money."

"Yes, you can."

I'm pretty taken aback by this. I've known this person all of an hour and she's giving me a $20 for my journey. The cynics would say she's drunk and am just throwing her money away without realizing it. Maybe I'm too sentimental but I think she knows exactly what she's doing - she's giving a traveler a little help along his way. That's genuine kindness.

I said "I can't spend your money but if you sign it, I'll keep it as a souvenir." We asked the bartender for a sharpie.

I then had a brilliant idea, "I will take this $20 with me along my trip and take a photo of this bill whenever I see something cool." We both erupt at this idea.

Another sign of her kindness, she gave Ken a $20 as well. I've only known Lindsay for a couple hours but I like to think that we bonded over talking about Kipling, jobs, families, and how I don't have an accent. It's one of the best nights I've ever experienced on the road.