Having grown up in Ontario my memories of a family trip through British Columbia at the age of 10 are especially vivid. The west had an intrigue and appeal that posed a lot more excitement than my very pleasant but somewhat uninteresting suburban upbringing. The dream of a horse that I was never allowed to own, the space and a palpable sense of freedom and adventure remained a draw that would stay with me through the teenage years.
In 1981, having graduated from the University of Western Ontario with a degree in nursing, it was finally my opportunity to head west. With a friend, we loaded up a 1970 teal blue Datsun 510 and headed out on the road. As poor new graduates our stated goal was to get to British Columbia, but wherever the car broke down we would get a job. Two days into the journey and just outside of Thunder Bay, Ontario, large plumes of black smoke started to rise from the engine. In we limped to a repair shop and told the mechanic our sad story: we had no money other than for gas to go west. He suggested that we give him afew hours and come back at the end of the day.
Having spent the afternoon in Thunder Bay, although a nice northern town, we recognized it certainly did not meet our dreams but, just in case, we explored job opportunities at the local hospital.
When we returned, the mechanic told us that he had fixed our car and he would not charge us a penny. He had always dreamed of going westto the Cariboo and had never made it.
With a smile and a wave he wished us good luck and God speed in our lives.
It took a number of additional years, first in Vancouver, then Pemberton, before I finally connected with the Cariboo. Although I have never lived in the region, it has become an important part of where I work and play. Whether it has been as a regional district board member at a community meeting in Bralorne (attended by almost the entire population, where it was suggested that now that they had listened politely perhaps we should be tarred and feathered); riding my first quarter horse named Heidi on the rolling hills; working with the local bands and communities regarding improving the delivery of health care services; driving down a snowy highway with a moose running in front of me; or as your federal member of Parliament understanding the continued anger over the wasteful long gun registry (an insulting program developed with an urban mind set), the Cariboo has an enduringhardiness of spirit and all that I dreamed of as a young girl.
A much-belated thank you to the mechanic in Thunder Bay who helped us achieve this dream. I have thought of you over the years and always regretted not sending a post card saying "we made it."
-Cathy McLeod, Kamloops-Thompson-Cariboo MP (2009)
