Forty Eight

As some of you may know, yesterday I crossed state lines from Oregon into Washington which officially brings my visiting total to forty-eight states. That's right, I've managed to see all of the lower forty-eight states and it's been nothing short of amazing. Yet, rather than sit here and write about all my heart-felt, touching experiences, instead, I am going to share with you some things I've learnt - some of you might remember me doing something similar back in October. In no particular order:

Safety Corridor: this is one of my favourites. Every once in a while on the highways/freeways/interstates you come across a section labelled the safety corridor. There are signs reminding you to drive safe, follow the rules of the road, and what not. Which is great. Awesome, really. I'm all for safe driving. The only thing is, shouldn't you be doing this all the time? Shouldn't the entire road be a safety corridor? Points for trying but I think you kind of missed the mark on this one, America.

Pass: if you're driving in the mountains, when you're nearing the top and finally crossing over and down you have reached and are coming down the pass - up and over.

State Signs and State Lines: Every time you cross a state line there is a sign (or multiple signs) welcoming you into this new state. People like to stop and take pictures of the state signs - I don't like stopping so I just multitask and snap a picture on the move. Majority of these signs are on the right shoulder. However, every once in a while you'll only see the state sign and you have to be really prepared for a picture because the sign is located in some obscure place - like the top of a bridge in Ohio. Many states even warn you that you'll be coming to a rest stop/welcome centre in 2 miles before you cross said line. These states were my favourite. I got pictures of every single one. So, America, let's try and keep it consistent.

Construction Zone Decoy: many a time I was driving from one destination to the next I would happen upon those bright orange signs that absolutely everyone hates. The ones warning you that there was construction ahead, even worse if one lane was going to be closed. I cannot tell you how many times I saw those warning signs, slowed down, even moved over a lane only to travel miles without seeing a shred of evidence that any construction had or was taking place. And just as soon I'd reach a sign that said "End Road Work." Now, either I have extremely bad eye sight or lack of ability to determine what road work/construction is or I had been Punk'd dozens of times. Thanks America.

No Passing Zone: I travelled my fair share of single lane highways. Most people know, rather, should know,  that when there are the solid, yellow lines this is a no passing zone. I have to give credit to New Mexico for their execution in ensuring everyone on the road knew when they were in a no passing zone because every. single. time. those centre lines changed to solid there were signs posted on BOTH shoulders "No Passing Zone". Which was excellent. Redundant, would maybe be more of an accurate description considering the one highway I was on was almost entirely twists and turns making it more of a no passing zone than a passing zone. After seeings those signs, and the solid lines, about thirty times or so one kind of gets the point. Message received.

*While on the topic of single-lane highways. I just want to take a moment to give a shout out to all those incredible drivers that decided riding my behind when I was already stuck behind someone going under the speed limit really didn't do anyone much good. You got mad. I got mad. Everyone got nervous. So, maybe, we don't do that anymore?

Cruise Control: say it with me folks - CRUISE CONTROL. It is your friend. Please use it. There is nothing more frustrating, and there is nothing that makes me look like a jerk more than having to pass the same car five or six times because, while I travel at a constant, set speed they are slowing down and speeding up every ten miles or so.

Shoes: here's one that has nothing to do with driving. Why do all Americans wear their shoes inside? I have never been anywhere else in the world where people leave their shoes on inside the house. Some people did change to indoor shoes once they got in but majority just never took their shoes off. Don't your carpets get dirty? Don't your floors need to be swept and washed, like, every day? What's the deal with the shoes.

Kleenex: I found it very rare to find a house that had Kleenex (tissues) as well as toilet paper. I mean, I guess they are multifunctional but I found that one kind of weird.

Condiments: you are absolutely not American if you don't put ranch or hot sauce on everything you eat. They are the national condiments and if you're sitting around a table with a group of people at a hostel, random scenario thrown on the table, you can always tell who is an American by their condiment choice.

Laws: they are SO different from one state to the other. In some places you are almost expected to smoke. And smoke every where - bars, restaurants, casinos, you name it. Then there are other places where you might have your arm chopped off if you smoke too close to a place - I might be over exaggerating. While I support the latter, it's so bizarre to me how the laws can be so polar opposite from one place to the next. The same thing goes for laws such as whether or not you are required to wear a helmet while riding a motorcycle, if you're allowed to consume alcohol in public, if you're allowed to purchase (or sell) alcohol on Sundays, and whether or not it's against the law to use your cell phone while driving. Obviously, just to be safe I never did any of the above.

*While on the topic of laws, one of the most interesting things I learnt was that it is illegal for you to pump your own gas in the entire state of Oregon. Before I found this out I broke the law by pumping my own gas. I'm such a rebel.

Parking: even though you may have found a wicked-awesome, money-saving deal on accommodations in a city it doesn't really matter if you're travelling with a car and need to pay for parking. The cost to park in some places, especially over night, costs you your fist born child - or at least their college fund.

ID: I get it. My ID is weird looking. You've never seen it before. You want to know where it's from. But here's the thing, if when I hand it to you I give you a helpful little tip of the day and say "date of birth is right under the picture" don't ignore me. Listening skills aren't the forte of anyone that has checked my ID in the states because most spent minutes scanning over the entire card looking for that date of birth.

Arbitrary Gas Prices: I'm not complaining, I promise. Because even at the most expensive gas stations in the states, gas is still cheaper than in Canada. It just boggled my mind that there could be upwards of three gas stations in a one block radius and the price difference could be anywhere from a couple cents to almost thirty cents. How does that make sense. Why would anyone ever go to the most expensive station?

We Aren't That Different: okay, so you might prefer football while hockey flows through our veins. We eat ketchup chips and not quite as much Mexican food. We have coloured money, you don't. The word toque and going tobogganing are foreign concepts to you, but hey, our winter lasts so long we had to start making up extra words. And the word "about" gives me away as being Canadian every time. But if there is anything I have learnt, overwhelmingly so, is that we aren't that different. We drive the same kinds of cars, watch the same television programs, we like the same music, and we all celebrate Halloween (yes, I was asked). Not many of you have ever been to Canada but most of us have been to the states - but that's because virtually everything is cheaper in the states. I guess what I am trying to say here is that we could take any US citizen, blindfold them, spin them around and drop them in any Canadian city around the country and there wouldn't be any blaring differences (with the exception being any city in Quebec, for obvious reasons).

It's been fun. It's been a blast. It's been a learning experience. I wouldn't change a single thing and I don't regret a single penny spent. While I will spend the next five nights in Seattle, WA living out a fantasy that I am in an episode of Grey's Anatomy, I just want to say: Thanks America. Thanks for having me. Thanks for being you, wack-a-doo laws and all. Let's do it again someday.