Yesterday I had to fill out a government form that required my driver’s licence number. When I typed it in I got a pop-up telling me my licence had expired. I gasped. I had intended to make a ‘note to self’ about that but totally forgot. Early the next morning I headed to the registry office and presented my licence for renewal. The woman glanced at it and cocked her head.

“Oh,” she said. “You’ve just turned 75.” I nodded. “That means you need a letter from your doctor to certify that you passed the cognitive test and are cleared to drive.”

“Oh,” said. My doctor’s office was on my way home so I stopped in and was relieved that they were able to book me an appointment that afternoon. I had no idea what a cognitive test was and was a bit apprehensive. The nurse who administered it was encouraging and I got through it without any difficulty. I presented my results to the doctor who congratulated me and printed out the form. Back to the registry office and within a few minutes I was legally a driver once again.

This whole procedure made me think of one those “only in the Yukon” stories. I was walking down the boardwalk on the main street of Dawson City one day as the tourist season was just getting under way.

A friend pulled up beside me in a bright orange van and offered me a ride. He had just returned from down south (or “outside” as we Yukoners called it), and he was anxious to get back to work on a construction sight. “But I have a problem,” he said. “I stopped to visit a friend in Calgary on my way up, and somebody stole all my tools. Wanna buy my van?”

I laughed. “Bob, I don’t even know how to drive!”

“No problem! He said. “I’ll teach you! I really need to sell this van so I can buy the tools I need to go back to work. I’ll give you a great deal!”

In the end I felt sorry for him and agreed. We drove to the bank and completed the transaction. Over the next few days Bob gave me driving lessons. The day came when I thought I was ready to take a driver’s test, so I went to the small RCMP office. The constables were not there. I tried again the next day and the next, and the next. There were only two constables in town at that time, so they were almost always out on a call. About a month later I saw one of the constables on the street and told him I really needed to take the driver’s test. I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my van at the time.

He nodded. “Yeah, you do need to do that!” He said. “Come by tomorrow morning.”

The office was, once again, empty but for the receptionist. That went on all summer long. I saw that same constable every now and then and he would always say, “Yeah, come by tomorrow.”

The summer was almost over and I was moving to Whitehorse for the winter. Once again I saw that constable on the street, and told him I really did need to get a licence to drive. Once again he told me to come by the next day. The next day the receptionist shook her head.

The next day I drove to Whitehorse (a six hour drive). I made sure I left early enough to get to the registry office before they closed. I did not know any of the constables in Whitehorse but I was pretty sure they would not be very understanding about me driving without a licence. I passed the test, got the registration and new plates. At last I was legally on the road!

As I said, “Only in the Yukon!”

This may be one of the stories that will be part of my new book, Flecks of Gold. We are now sitting at 37% in the crowdfundr campaign, with 21 days to go. I am SO grateful to all those who have already contributed to helping me see this book become a reality.

When we hit our next milestone ($2,000, which is the half-way point), another draw will be done for a hand-made felted landscape of the Yukon River, made by yours truly. Actually I’ve done 2 feltings of the river, so you’ll get to pick the one you want. Everyone who participates will be entered in the draw.

Crowdfundr link for Flecks of Gold  – Yukon Stories https://crowdfundr.com/flecksofgold?ref=sh_6CmT8c_ab_4dBWbYqxyKK4dBWbYqxyKK