Where I’ve Lived Wednesday: McBride.

It’s finally here… round 2 of Where I’ve Lived Wednesday! I know that since last Wednesday you have been dying inside with the anticipation for my next WILW post. We started last week in my birthplace – Prince George – and this week we are exploring my time in McBride, BC. 

You probably have never heard of McBride… and if you have you have either spent lots of time in northern British Columbia or you are an eager beaver with Canadian geography and know far too much about the small towns of Canada. When I was three months old, my parents and I left Prince George and moved 209 km east to McBride. 

McBride is a small town of about 600 people in the middle of nowhere. Despite the size of the town, my parents made the three years of my life that I spent there quite awesome and we would frequently go to Jasper to swim at the pool and go exploring around BC. One of the best things about living in McBride was what happened while we lived there – I got a baby brother!

One of the most unique things about living in McBride was living in the police detachment. Ok, we didn’t actually live in it, but back in the old days, in small towns around Canada, they would just build the police detachment with a house attached to it so the local police officer would have a place to live that was conveniently right where they worked. In such a tiny place, my dad was either working or on call, so it was kind of necessary to be ready to be at work as soon as possible. 

My mom clearly remembers hearing drunk prisoners in the police station jail cells yelling and screaming at my dad. It was terrifying! She would always hope that I was sound asleep and couldn’t hear the prisoners in their cells. Good times. One of the good things about my dad working so close was that his commute home for dinner or lunch was about 3.8 seconds.

I was just three months when I moved to McBride and only three years old when we left, so I don’t remember a ton about living there. I just remember lots of brown carpet. I also remember that I got to spend lots of time with my mom, which meant lots of walks outside and about 11 hours of crafts per day. Oh, and I guess I ate a lot of cookie dough?

I was trained super early with many domestic chores. That is why today I make my bed every day, look forward to doing my laundry, and just adore washing dishes. Sarcasm, sarcasm, sarcasm. I think my parents just wanted to document the one time I washed a car or something.

Here is what my mom had to say about living in McBride: “This was the place we got our Burley and I was known as the woman who was always walking around town with her kid. It was the place your dad saw the most dead bodies in all of his career in the RCMP, from suicides to homocides to moose accidents. We went to Jasper a lot to “escape” town and we met a lot of good friends in McBride.”

Honestly, one the most distinct memories I have from McBride is about a box. My parents ordered a climbing structure with a slide for me to play on and it came in a HUGE box. Naturally, the box was more entertaining than the play structure… I literally can’t even remember what the climbing structure or slide looked like… all I can remember is playing with the giant box and creating my own “house.” My mom helped me paint it and decorate it and bring some chairs into it, cut out a door and a window, and then she played in it with me. Parent award of 1995 goes to my mom. I thought this was the coolest thing in the entire world. I feel like this is one of those moments I will tell my grandkids about and say, “Back in my day, we played in cardboard boxes and didn’t need iPod or bluetooth gizmos to have fun. That was where real childhoods were made.”

In December of 1995, I got the best early Christmas gift in the world… a brother! My mom says I was really excited for him to be born and I got a doll when she was in the hospital so that I could have my own baby. He was suppose to be born in Prince George because my mom kept her doctor there after we moved, and went to all of her prenatal appointments there but when it came time and she went into labour, there was a snowstorm and she ended up giving birth to my brother in the teeny tiny “hospital” in McBride.

The hospital was down the street from our house (actually in a small town, everything is down the street) so my mom walked home from the hospital when she was discharged. Haha. Ever since that day in ’95 my brother and I have been two cool kids just lookin’ for trouble. Don’t mess with the best.

After three years of living in that small town, I moved with my parents and new baby brother to Kimberley, BC. See you next time on WILW 🙂 Oh, and in case you missed where I was born, check out last week’s post:
Prince George.
Last night was my last spin class of the winter program session and it was HARD. We did one drill. One. The entire class. It was crazy hard but actually kind of awesome. 15 second standing climb, 15 second hover, 15 second seated sprint, 15 second seated climb, 15 second standing dig… repeat using 30 second intervals, then 45 seconds, then a minute, then 90 seconds, then two minutes. Ouch. That means the last set (the two minute ones) lasted for ten minutes total with no break. I had to put my hair in a bun because my pony tail got so sweaty. Gross. 

This morning once again was speed work. 6 X 800 m intervals… aka Yassos. I did my entire workout on the treadmill. That means for each interval, I was running at about 9.1 mph and trying my hardest not to fall off the machine. I managed to survive it and came out with interval times of 3:20, 3:19, 3:17, 3:17, 3:16, and 3:15. I was a sweaty mess by the end. I jogged in between the intervals for a total of nine miles. 

When I was cooling down, my brother and mom showed up at the gym to run three miles. Of course I had to stay on for a little bit to chat with them and to pretend we were a Murray running team, all running on treadmills side-by-side. I only did a mile with them for a total of 10.0 on the day. I kind of love speed work days. 

Have YOU heard of McBride? What is your favourite memory from when you were a child? Mine is apparently a cardboard box and drunk prisoners yelling at my dad… it sounds like I came from the ghetto. 


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