Space, the final frontier.
It's an idea that has reentered the present day. Elon Musk is showing the world that a new era of space flight has begun, and even the moon is slated to have better cell reception than some places on earth. Some might even call it the dawn of a new era, that humanity might finally visit the stars.
And while that might be true, I find myself constantly looking backwards. Humanity for so long has striven to see the world. Amidst all the pain and suffering of history, there shines this light of exploration and discovery; this fight to see every mountain tamed, every river crossed. Every corner of the earth that was possible to sustain human populations has held people, the most remote mountain valley, to the hottest, and the coldest, of deserts. Humanity looked out at the empty wastes, and with one deep breath, and a creeping smile, they spoke "I shall make my home here," and naught could be done to stop them. Across history and across time, these indefatigable settlers moved across the world and fought the elements to find their way home.
This idea of settling the world has died. We've found every nook, explored every cranny. Every day, the culture of distant places dies as it is instead replaced with the global standard. Travelers leave their homes and travel to distant counties, only to find the same thing they left, but with more preferential weather. There's nowhere left for those explorers of yesterday. For so long, they pushed out, unsatisfied with the soft life of settlement, choosing the choice that so few even considered.
Canada is an excellent example of this, a region so vast that nothing so empty still existed in the old world. Settlers found homes on the east coast, establishing cities and building features that would remind visitors of the cities of Europe that they vacated. But once those were built, they ceased to be frontiers. These cities no longer needed the settlers, people with strong arms and strong wills, people ready to break ground and raise a new future for their fellows. For the same reason that those city people didn't move out when the settlers did, when the city moved in, the frontier moved out. They can live in it, but it is not their home. And so, they moved west, pouring into the frontier, further and further. The world crafters and the township builders. The frontier farmers and the ranchers of endless plains. Until they hit the mountains, and then it was over.
There are cities here too now, even in the empty space between the mountains. We have satellites, and with them we've scanned the earth. It's done, we know it all. The explorers live, if one can call it that, in the cities now. Living the same lives as their neighbour, but they aren't home. The era of explorers is over they say. They say "You must settle down and occupy this land, it is your home," and yet, with the same voice, they deride their ancestors that fought their way to live here, to make it inhabitable for those alive today, the inheritors of their efforts. Wiping away the memory, embarrassed by their neighbour's children who still yearn to follow the way home. Many words flung, poisoned with a venomous tongue: conservative, rural, cowboy; the words don't matter, for their meaning is killed by the venom. The venom grins, whispering in their ear, and filling their soul, "give up fool, you've lost. Your kind will never make it home."
And with that, they were right. Alberta is not just the last province before the mountains, it's the last frontier; it is the last space that hosted the immortal souls that could conquer any land.
Is it the only place where this is true? No, I dare say it's not. Like I said, the human spirit is one of stretching out our arms to see how far we can reach. But, it was one of the last, and it's the space where the generations that came before me were finally halted. And now, it's where I live. I live in the city now, working towards my ever present goals. I know I'll be here till the day I die, but I know I'm not home. How I yearn to follow that call, moving as the souls before me moved across the plains.
This is why I stare towards the stars, towards the projects that take place beyond our feeble atmosphere. I don't see the new era of travel that others mention. Instead, I see the continuation of the eternal spirit, the explorer riding out to new lands. As much as the naysayers seek to stop us, humanity is moving. First Mars, then Europa, and after that? There's no stopping us.
And so, I pose this favour. If you remember me, remember this request. I was one generation too early. When you make your way out into the stars, name your ship after Alberta. I don't know if they'll still remember in a hundred years, but for right now, most of us still remember where we came from. If you can only take one thing with you to space, don't take your memory of me, instead remember Alberta. If you remember Alberta, the last land of the ever-striving, then we all will get to ride home.
"We're going to ride forever."
"You can't keep horsemen in a cage."
"Should the angels call, well it's only then,"
"We might pull in the reigns."
~Paul Gross
"You can't keep horsemen in a cage."
"Should the angels call, well it's only then,"
"We might pull in the reigns."
~Paul Gross
