In the spring of 1977, the RRMC Varsity Rugby team went on their annual trip to California to play a friendly match with St. Mary’s,  a small college in the San Francisco area.  As it was about a 16-hour trip by car, we rented two 15-passenger vans to accommodate the team (plus spares) and to keep costs down.  The plan was to drive essentially non-stop, pulling over only to fuel up.  All bathroom breaks or food and beverage purchases were to be done while gassing up.  We didn’t even stop to switch drivers.  A detailed schedule was drawn up whereby each team member would drive for about an hour and then the person riding shotgun would slide over and take the wheel.  Tricky to do with no cruise control!  Because of this, one of the essential requirements to be eligible to take the journey was that you had to have a valid drivers license.   

If memory serves me correctly, including myself, the 79’ers on the journey were: Will Wawrychuk; Guy Simard; and Ron Wilsewski.  Darcy Byrtus, Walt Natyncyck, and Ty Pile may also have been along for the ride, and perhaps Andy Tomaszewski, Steve Nicol and Kevin Biggar, but those details are lost in the fog of time.  Come to think of it, Rob Gundling was not there but likely only because I think he was off trying out for the provincial team.

So, we departed right after class on a Friday taking the ferry to Port Angeles, Washington State and headed south.  Just after midnight, with Guy at the controls, we entered Portland, Oregon.  We had to change Interstates, which involved making our way through a spaghetti-like maze of on and off ramps.  We soon noticed that our speed seemed to be getting faster and faster to the point that we were getting nervous.  Someone asked Guy what in the $%#&$ he was doing.  He calmly told us that his driving instructor had told him to decelerate into a curve and then accelerate out of the curve.   The current curve being about 360° didn’t seem to faze him!   The next question was, “what driving instructor?”   At which point he informed us that he had his learner’s permit and about two lessons under his belt.  Needless to say, Guy was relieved of his driving duties and removed from the driving roster.   

After that, things progressed smoothly and we made our first pit stop a few hours later.  After gassing up, I -- as the driver -- asked if everyone was on board, and hearing a big YES, set off.  About 30 minutes later, I saw flashing blue lights in the rear-view mirror and realized we were being pulled over.  The first thought was to hide the beer and the next was what had we done to attract his attention.  The Highway Patrolman sauntered up to the driver side window and asked very nonchalantly if we were missing something.  We said, no we didn’t think so.  At which point he told us that he had a young fellow in the back of his cruiser who claimed to be a member of the RRMC rugby team.  Seems like he had stayed too long in the men’s room!   

The rest of the trip was less eventful.  We lost to St. Mary’s but had a great time seeing the sights and tasting the delights of San Fran.  How the hand-carved, wooden sign happened to find its way to be hanging above the bar in the Cadet Mess at the old stables is a story for another time.