To OnRoutes and highways

car culture, highways, tv dinners

Don Valley Parkway (401). Photo from Saad Salman on Unsplash

As a child growing up in small town Ontario, ONroute’s were a part of most journeys. An ONroute is a highway stop where there is a collection of fast food chains (Wendy’s, Tim Hortons, Subway…etc) along with a gas station, so you could eat the most mediocre burger in your life, go to the bathroom, and get gas. The bathrooms range from okay to horrifically bad at worst. OnRoute’s are along the Ontario 400 and 401 Highway series, which we used to drive to connect us to most other towns and cities in Ontario. I have spent countless hours of my childhood watching stretches of highway pass, looking at other sets of highways or large warehouses that line the 400 series. 

As I got older I started reading in the car. I could spend hours reading a book while we drove to Toronto, Niagara Falls, or even Ottawa. Much of my childhood was spent reading books, watching my Dad drive, looking up to see the continuous highway stretch as we went 100/mph. It’s a shared experience I have with most people who grew up or lived in Ontario. I used to beg my Dad to stop at each ONroute. I wanted to use the bathroom, but mostly I wanted to get a Tim Hortons hot chocolate or a Wendys frosty with french fries. The ONroute is an interesting amalgamation of modern living, and highlights the importance of cars in our culture. Lined with places to eat, bathrooms, and typically a convenience-type store it has everything one may need to pause before getting back to a long car journey. It’s a liminal space before going back to your life, which is lived in a car. Expect a longer meditation about my feelings of cars, but this is a good teaser.

Sunrises, sunsets, so much of my life was lived in the back of my Dads car on the 400 series highways. A life lived through a series of car trips, hours spent sitting, waiting to arrive. As an adult I don’t drive, but as a child I always assumed I would learn to drive. It felt like a natural progression to independence. I often wonder what my teen self would think of this decision. Probably disappointment. The stretch of highway all mesh together. Long cement lined roads, loud noises as cars flew by, the sound of wind hitting against each window the faster we went. All signs flash a particular highway sign green, bright white lettering jolting out telling us where to turn off, what was coming up, and what to watch out for. It all looked the same for each Ontario destination. Perhaps that was the point? 

On highways I learned to read my favourite teen novels, and also where I started my first Palahniuk. Hours spent reading Invisible Monsters, Haunted, and Fight Club. All books that a teenage girl probably shouldn’t read, but I was enraptured. 

When traffic was bad, I’d spend time looking into other peoples cars and imagine their lives. If it was just a man I’d imagine he was rushing home from work in order to be on time to eat dinner with his family. If I saw what I thought was a nuclear family, a woman, man, and a small child I’d think of how their life was compared to mine. Maybe they also lived in a small town in Ontario? Maybe they were city kids heading back home to Toronto? I wondered what they would eat for dinner. If they ate together? Maybe they ate in front of the TV like my family did? Rushing to get food in bellies before the night work shift began. If I got home late, the food was always waiting for me in the oven. I could reheat it. Sit in front of the living room TV alone, a white glow engulfing me, spooning baked potatoes into my mouth. In the car I traded eating dinner alone in front of the TV to eating with my family. For a few hours we were whole. I used to think all families ate dinner together every night. But, I think more children ate in front of the TV alone than I realized. I meet them often as adults now.

I haven’t been on a 400-series in a while. Now I’m only on them when I’m being driven home from the Toronto airport. I never put much thought into leaving Ontario, until I actually did. Maybe next time I’m on the 400-series it’ll be me driving. Listening to the wind against the car, the noise of traffic, shuffling my own playlists to drown out the monotony of highway driving. But, probably not.  

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