Days 81-82: Highway of Tears

I checked out of the lodge and pulled into a park to book my next place. Looking at the map, I determined I could make it to Williams Lake. I drove past farms and tractors for sale. Despite the giant billboards cautioning of the dangers of hitchhiking, I did see an occasional hitchhiker.

The billboards intrigued me, especially one that said “girls don’t hitchhike on the highway of tears.” I had also noticed missing posters in various gas stations and fast food restaurants. It was heartbreaking. There seemed to be an unusual amount of warnings and missing women, so I looked into it.  According to Wikipedia, “The Highway of Tears is the series of murders and disappearances along a 720 Kilometer (450 mile) corridor of highway 16 between Prince George and Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada beginning in 1970.” It explains that 16-40+ women have been murdered or abducted and “There are a disportionately high number of indigenous women on the list of victims.”

Wikipedia goes on, “Poverty in particular leads to low rates of car ownership and mobility, thus hitchhiking is often the only way for many to travel vast distances to see family or go to work, school, or seek medical treatment. Another factor leading to abductions and murders is the area is largely isolated and remote, with soft soil in many areas and carnivorous scavengers to carry away human remains; these factors precipitate violent attacks as perpetrators feel a sense of impunity, privacy, and the ability to easily carry out their crimes and hide evidence.”

It broke my heart to see the faces of so many people who had vanished. It was a reminder that traveling as a solo female can be dangerous. I try my best to be aware of my surroundings and generally feel safe. But the sad reality is that women are often targets simply for being a woman.

When I was heading to Alaska, many people told me, “You know there’s twice as many men in Alaska as women. Be careful.” Curious, I googled it and according to this article, Alaska has the highest ratio of men to women in the United States. But it’s not as much as people think. For every 100 women in the state, there are 107 men. It used to be more dramatic, but since the 1980s, economic development has brought more women to the state.

The more interesting part is the culture of violence against women. Alaska has the highest number of reported rapes than any other state – three times the national average.

The article goes on to say, “There are a number of complicated reasons Alaska is dangerous for women, from its long, dark winters to high rates of alcohol abuse and, perhaps more important than either, an awful history of cultural trauma and colonial violence…State surveys show that an estimated 37% of women in Alaska suffer from sexual violence — and nearly six in 10 suffer from sexual and/or intimate partner violence, which includes threats of violence.”

There are a lot of remote villages that do have significantly more men than women and often have a culture of colonial violence. If you want to know more, I recommend you read this article about a woman who moved to a remote village to teach English and was assaulted. Unfortunately, the school and government officials seem to think it’s the norm.

I was happy to see the billboards in British Columbia and see that there is an organization bringing attention to the Highway of Tears and the missing people, hopefully preventing more attacks. I feel for the families that have been affected. It was a good reminder to be cautious when traveling and understand there is evil out there.

After a couple of hours of driving and reflecting, I pulled into a 7-Eleven gas station to use the restroom and get some lunch. The place was packed with high-school kids. I waited in line to get some hot food and fumbled to find the correct currency. The woman asked, “Are you American?” “Yes, sorry, I’m still getting used to which coin is which.” I asked her why it was so busy and she said they are the only gas station in town and right by the school, so they get two lunch rushes.

I continued my drive towards Williams Lake. When I arrived, there was a billboard boasting, “Want fun? Easy exercising? Try square dancing!” I laughed at the thought of square dancing. I remember learning it in school growing up and of course, was so excited when the boy I liked asked me to be his partner. Flustered, I struggled to go the correct way, which made him grab my belt loop so he could pull me in the correct direction. I’m a very clumsy person.

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I checked into my Super 8 motel and walked across the parking lot a restaurant for dinner. It was already dark outside and I spent the evening booking my next Airbnb.

The next morning, I checked out of the hotel and drove to Chevron for some gas. As I got out of my car, I dropped my wallet and  $6 fell out. I grabbed the $1 bill, but the $5 bill flew under my car. I crawled on the ground attempting to reach it but couldn’t . I pulled my car up slightly and was able to get it. I pulled my car back to the pump, unscrewed my cap, and a guy on the overhead speaker said, “The pumps aren’t working right now.”

Did he just watch me do all of that, probably laughing hysterically? Embarrassed, I drove down the street to a Petro-Canada station, but a large semi was blocking the entrance. At a stop light, I found another gas station on the map, just over a mile away, so I headed there. I pulled up and, you guessed it, closed off. They were filling up all of the stations so nobody could get gas.

I ended up driving back to the Husky gas station right by my hotel and filled up my tank as a semi truck with a skull on the side blasted heavy metal music. I felt so frustrated  after this debacle. Sometimes travel is amazing. Other days, it feels like the world is against you. I suppose it’s just like in normal life.

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I left Williams Lake and headed towards Abbotsford. The drive wasn’t as scenic, but there were more places to get gas and snacks. At one point, I pulled into a gas station and the guy behind the counter convinced me to buy a lotto ticket. As I walked out, he yelled, “Don’t forget about me if you win!”

As I drove up a mountain, I noticed a small amount of snow on the ground from the night before. I pulled over to takes pictures and I couldn’t believe snow was already hitting higher elevations – it was only September 13th.

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I was sad that my drive to Alaska was over. I tried my best to take in all of the beautiful mountain scenery around me. It didn’t look the same as it did when when I went north now that the season was changing.

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I arrived to Abbotsford in the late afternoon and couldn’t check in to my Airbnb yet, so I got a manicure and pedicure. That bought me enough time and I checked in. I had rented an entire three bedroom house in the suburbs of Vancouver for a week so I could unwind after so much driving.

The house reminded me of my house in Los Angeles and made me miss it. I ordered some pizza and got cozy inside my new (temporary) house. Then I tried to figure out how I would spend the next week in the suburbs.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment with any questions!

3 thoughts on “Days 81-82: Highway of Tears

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