Where the music meets the road

The purpose of rock is to be blasted out a car stereo while speeding down the highway.

I mean, enthusiastically driving the speed limit on the highway.

I’m the intern at 105.3 ROCK, and I’m from out of town, so I’ve had a good time doing lots of travelling lately. From Calgary to Medicine Hat isn’t a particularly long drive, and it isn’t a particularly exciting drive, but sometimes it’s trips like these that yield the weirdest experiences.

I was hungry, I was tired, and my Radiohead CD just ended. I needed a snack. It was Sunday evening and I was driving down to the Hat. I saw a sign: Gleichen Access 1 km. Now, I knew Gleichen as a name on the map, but I didn’t know much about it. “There’s gotta be at least a gas station,” I told myself. As I pulled into the main intersection, I saw there was a gas station on the opposite corner. A Centex.

Unfortunately it was closed. I didn’t have to stop to see that, but I did stop. Because there was a stop sign. In the empty lot across from the station there was an old cowboy smoking a cigarette.

I’m gonna pause. I’m afraid what you read was “older man wearing boots” when what I wrote was “old COWBOY.” Skinny as a rail, faded Wranglers, western shirt, jean jacket, boots so worn out they looked like they could have been made in 1850, sweatstained Stetson, and a huge, grey handlebar moustache. Smoking like he gosh darn meant it.

And staring right at me. I guess Volvo station wagons don’t often go ’round those parts.

I realized I’d been sitting at the stop sign for a little too long, so I took my foot off the brake and continued along the highway. Why did this cowboy make me feel so uneasy? Why did I lose track of time? Was it mystical? Paranormal? Extraterrestrial? Maybe, but I feel like the simple answer was this: The town just wasn’t big enough for the two of us.

I was passing Bassano by the time I remembered I was hungry, so I stopped and got a sub. I ate it and, feeling a little better, got back on the road. I pushed buttons until my Radiohead CD was back at the beginning and started it on round two. Albums always deserve a couple full listens on the road. I forgot about the cowboy eventually, but I still felt uneasy.

Brooks, Suffield, and finally Redcliff. I listened to the last song of “OK Computer” fade out as I descended into the river valley. I recognized the houses along First Street. I turned up Division Avenue. All the houses looked so similar to my neighbourhood in Calgary. Gravel ground under the tires as I took the last few turns towards home.

It could’ve been a loop. Small ’60s houses, then a lot of prairie, a weird cowboy, then a lot of prairie, and some more small sixties houses. The only way to tell I’d taken a trip was Radiohead’s “OK Computer.” Listening to it a couple of times means I must have gotten somewhere. Theo Waite is an intern from SAIT who’s finishing up his stint at 105.3 ROCK. His unique perspective on the road trip from Calgary to Medicine Hat just had