The Long drive North.

The long drive stretches out ahead, and takes me to the northern country. The drive alone makes me go mad with boredom and frustration, but I can never refuse to visit this unhappy place. My grandparents' house lies so far north in the wilderness (too far if you ask me), yet once again I travel the interminable distance to see them.

The car is comfortable for the first hour or so of driving, but soon my body becomes numb or my legs cramp. The highway stretches out for miles and miles leading me towards the wilderness and a place of my absolute unhappiness. Don't get me wrong, I love my grandparents; it's just that the place where they choose to live is so uncivilized.

As my mother and I come closer and closer to the house in the woods we discuss our destination. We try to be positive about the small cottage north of Parry Sound, but it is almost impossible for two city girls like us. The highway comes to an end and we turn towards the long dirt road which will take us further into the untamed wilds.

"Oh mom," I say, "can't we just turn back now" But she always answers in the same way, "No this is our duty. We must visit Granny."

I see the sign ahead pointing towards the last portion of our journey, the sign pointing to my ultimate misery (well my misery for two or three days). Fifteen kilometers of "new road" to look forward to. Don't you think paved road when someone tells you "it's a nice new road"?? I must admit to my surprise the road is not only unpaved, but it has ditches as high as our van.

"Oh my God" I say in a shocked voice, "I don't want to know what happens when someone loses control and ends up in that ditch"

As the road continues, the rocks, gravel and dirt spraying up into the air behind us, my only thought is "please nobody else be on this road I don't want to be passed." The van fishtails around a corner, my mother yelps telling me to be careful with the new van, and I can only thank the Lord that I'm not trying to drag myself out of the ditch.

I settle into the movements of the van as I drive the road, my mother and I begin our conversation anew.

"So we're going to 'Scerryvore' huh" I say, "and you know what It is scary!" My mother laughs at my joke and replies, "I believe this is the proverbial road to hell Yes I believe it is. You see the word 'Scerryvore' is ancient Norse for Hell-hole. I can see it now" She pauses and laughs, as do I.

"Yes, Yes it's all clear." My mother continues, "when the Vikings disobeyed the Gods they were banished to 'SCERRYVORE'!"

Finally after what seems like an endless journey, we arrive, and as usual My grandparents are waiting for us on the porch, smiling. I feel guilty for all my complaints, but I have just arrived and I want to leave.

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