Nights Seventeen and Eighteen
Bert and I enter Saskatoon with a distinct purpose: we must find a place for me to shower. It has been a week since my last. A sweaty week of 25 plus degree driving with the heat on full blast, as Bert is progressively losing his ability to cool himself (putting the heater on levels him out and prevents a serious overheat). This stretch of the prairies hasn’t even offered anywhere to swim.
More than a cross-country adventure, this trip is an experiment in radicalizing my lifestyle. It is surprisingly easy to live comfortably on what is readily publicly available. Almost every social space has wifi, a washroom, and a water tap. It has been so easy to ‘live for free’ that I’ve quickly developed the attitude of not wanting to pay for things if I can figure out a way not to. Within reason - I’m not interested in stealing or taking advantage of anyone and I still want to participate relatively normally in society.
One of the ways people participate normally in society is by showering. Showers are, however, not publicly available. It is usually fairly easy to tell who does not have regular access to a shower. It is part of how our class system is organized and maintained. Those at the very bottom cannot clean themselves. Those who can clean themselves are often worried about looking or smelling like those who cannot.
After finding out that no Saskatoon pool or gym would cost me less than $10 to enter, I decide to present myself and my quest to the YMCA and see if they will just let me use their shower. I am surprised when they say no.
My next option is a lake or beach. The only waterfront access is a nudie beach a little outside of town. I drive out, but the waters are so high that there is no longer a beach here, and signs warning of dangerous currents and recent deaths.
Even further outside of town is a provincial park, where I think I’ll be able to pay the small day use fee and sneak into the camping area to use the showers. It’s after 7pm when I arrive, and the gate staff are done for the day. I drive in to find a large, empty parking lot, a gorgeous lake, and a public washroom - with showers in it! I shiver happily through the cold shower, make a warm dinner, and wander around the beach playing banjo as the sun sets.
I hadn’t planned to sleep in the park but as it gets dark I start to wonder if I can. The parking lot is massive, and empty except for me. I certainly won’t be in anyone’s way. Why should a large area of concrete sit uninhabited all night as opposed to housing one lone wayward woman? Plus I’m tired of Walmart and though I was nervy enough to sleep on a residential street in the ‘hip bar area’ I explored in Saskatoon the night before, it means spending a lot more energy trying not to be detected. This lot has a beachfront and I have it all to myself. If anyone would like me to leave, or pay for being here, they can just ask!
I sleep through the full night, take my coffee and oats down to the foggy morning beach. Park wardens pass and leave me be, no one notices when I have my dance party.
This is not subsistence living, but it feels like a tame and urbanized step in that direction. I am learning to live off the public land.
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