Twisting in the wind

It was a shorter day today and we are ensconced in one of our favourite small motels… the Bavarian Inn in Bruce Mines. We stayed her about 6 years ago when we were biking home from Thunder Bay. At that time it was strictly heritage German, the decor and the food. It’s been sold and modernized somewhat. The decor has lightened up and the food has more mainstream type dishes and they’ve extended the bar and added an outdoor patio. Food is still excellent and prices reasonable.

Bruce Mines has the distinction of being the first copper mining town in North America..although those mines have been closed for years now.

It was too long a day yesterday to blog; we didn’t get in to a motel until after 10 pm after 1100 kms  on the road. While I like traveling, I prefer by far to do it in smaller chunks. And I was about ready to throw the camera out the window. Pictures at 110 km/hr are blurry, above that – there really is no use.

In case you haven’t been following the news, there are still devastating floods in Manitoba and south through North Dakota. Rivers are really high, huge fields lie under water and the stench is over-powering. Yellow sludge floats on the swampy water… not sure what that is – decomposing seed and/or fertilizer?? The plane we saw coming in to land was a crop duster; so close I thought he was going to land on the road then he was over us and coming down.

It was easy to tell when we were back in Ontario: piney scents filled the air, lakes sparkled under blue skies and the horse flies were the size of budgie birds. Home sweet home – almost.

A friend once said to me that her father complained of not being able to see any scenery because of the trees. At the time I laughed, but today I spent the day dodging trees and hydro lines trying to get photos of mountains, icefields, valleys and rivers. The forest grows untamed and crowds the roads, population is sparse and there are few roads off the main road and even fewer signs of habitation. Once more we were back up above the snow line and the road twisted back around on itself over and over as we first climbed the mountains and then descended. It was a beautiful sunny day, by turns hot and cold in the car depending on our elevation.

I find this southern route beautiful but almost sad. There are deserted homes and barns littered with abandoned and used up vehicles. As the mills closed down it seems there was little else for people to do to make a living, some lumbering maybe, service jobs in the towns and villages, some agriculture in the valleys. There is a coal mine here in Sparwood which must employ a number of people and perhaps there are others that help keep the economy flowing, but it must be difficult to make a living here.

Today was a bit shorter of a drive. I’d said to the husband, “We can’t go anywhere near Kamloops without calling an old friend who lives there. We might catch him home, or we might not but we have to try.” So with the idea in mind that we’d head that far and call when we got there, we headed out. We made a lot more photo stops on Day 2: the railroad spirals, Kicking Horse Pass, emerald lakes that were just too beautiful to pass by without pausing.

After some great sights along the way, we arrived outside Kamloops on the South Thompson River. We pulled into the travel centre and I went in search of a phone book, not having brought along my contact list. I called, caught my friend at home, programmed my GPS and we set off again. I’m not sure what I thought about Kamloops but I didn’t expect a city of 80,000 people. It’s a wonderful city though, spread out along the river and up the valley.

I also remembered the story of Bill Miner, but I didn’t know it happened at the exact spot where the travel centre is now. How’s that for a fortuitous stop?

John and I wound our way through the city and found Eldon at home. We had a fabulous time catching up on our lives. We first met back in 1963 in Dartmouth Nova Scotia, when we were both kids – I hate to think how long ago that was! For the next few years he came to Ontario and spent part of his summers on our farm, then summer jobs started to interfere for both of us and we only kept in touch sporadically. He lived his dream – moved west from the east coast, while I put my roots down in Ontario. I could write a book about our friendship but the patio door is open and I hear my name being called. I think it’s the road…more later friends..

I don’t know if I told you but sometimes my husband still surprises me.

“What way do you want to go home?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied, “There is always something to see.”

Let’s go west first,” he said. “Then east.”

Well, I’m on for that! After a leisurely family breakfast on Canada Day we hit the road going west. We intended getting a motel around Jasper somewhere but it would have been a good move to ‘call ahead’ and reserve because everything was booked solid. Canada Day. Long week-end. A double whammy. We kept driving and found a room at the Crossing in Saskatchewan River Crossing in Banff National Park. A word to the wise… anything named ‘Parkway’ is designed to be expensive. While the location was fantastic, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the cost of everything. But tired beggars can’t be choosy about accommodations when there is one (count ‘em – 1) motel.

I’m not sure what’s up with waking up before 5 am, but it was another early morning. Time change, perhaps? Regardless it made for an early start for the day which transferred to arriving in Cold Lake about 2:30 in the afternoon. I also had less guilt about stopping to take photos. Now I realize the husband is right when he says “everytime you stop for a picture it’s ten minutes out of driving time”. It’s true but it’s not as if I can come back and get the shot next week and I want the photo, dammit! (rant over)

North Saskatchewan river

A farm along Frog Lake Road - buffalo and something

Now I wonder if these buffalo are descendants of original buffalo or hybrids being raised for meat. Either way they were much smaller than I expected. And I have no clue what those other things are…let me know, someone.

Highway 2 in Minnesota on a Sunday morning

What a fabulous day! I was on the road before 8 this morning after a good night’s sleep and a free hot breakfast. They treat you well in Minnesota. Hit Highway #2 west and wondered where everyone was. Hwy #2 is 4 lanes, with a nice wide median.. think 401.. but not a car in sight. In case you think I jest, I took a picture. The speed limit is variable  since this road travels through towns and has stop lights, but the max is 70 mph…how liberating with no traffic. But after awhile I started to wonder if there really HAD been a rapture but I’d somehow missed it…then a car would top a far rise in the morning mist and I’d be fine again for awhile. Traffic thickened up a bit by noon and I even had some company heading west.

I feel very bad for the people out here. The flooding is everywhere. Cattle are standing and munching on hilltops, big round bales are all but submerged at some farms, lanes are washed out, fields laying unplanted and even machinery parts sticking out of the water. Dreadful.

North Dakota fields and laneway totally under water

I was planning on turning north to Canada in North Dakota but I’ve always wanted to see Montana and I was SOOOOO close. So, kept moseying on west and I am so glad I did. What an incredible drive.. every corner, every hill offered intoxicating scenery. The hills are green, offset with sedimentary outcroppings in yellow, pink and pale browns.. I gassed up with good old cheaper American fuel in Plentywood Montana and crossed the border at Regway.  Had a lovely chat with a female border guard who wished me a great time with my new grand-baby as I went on my merry way. Now, since I was just THIS close to the Big Muddy Badlands I just HAD to drive through there.. and that was just more of incredible..

The road coming out of the Big Muddy Badlands.. oh, for the bike...