The Trip By Karen Hamling
After two hours on the road, I see the wooden ‘Welcome to Nakusp’ sign. A big blue ‘N’ on a white background. The sign is weathered and worn and very much like how I feel as I travel highway 6 into town. “N” for Nakusp or “N” for numb? It is the middle of September and fall has just arrived. I spent last night in Nelson, to decompress before I headed home. I need a break to help me reset. The drive has been spectacular with the maple leaves turning to reds, oranges, yellows while the birch, larch, and trembling ash turning to various shades of yellow signs of winter approaching. I sigh with relief. It has been a difficult journey. I drive down the winding highway where lights glow in various homes and it looks cozy. I turn right at Anderson’s gas station. It has been in the Anderson family for years with a well-lit gas pump area a bright beacon, welcoming me home. It is on the verge of dusk as I pull …