Day Number Whatever – because I’m in road trip mode and have lost track of time, or what limited concept I had of it to begin with anyway: Travels in Canada

Canadian grocery stores have fantastic names. There’s “The Real Canadian Superstore” of Whitehorse, the “Overwaitee” of Fort Nelson, and the “Extra Foods” of Dawson Creek. Overrwaitee is just a ridiculously wrong name for a grocery store. And as for Extra Foods – what the hell does that mean?! Do you need to buy more than you need? Or is it extra stuff that they had lying around that they want you to purchase even though you don’t need it?

We are driving mostly in Alberta today. I like Alberta. But, it is sort of an ironic beauty. Irony, of course, is a central theme in my life anyway, so I like it here. It’s logging/agricultural/oil/etc region. Basically, natural resources. And rather flat. And though we crack jokes at the flatness, such as sign that pointed off to the left of the highway marking “Saskatoon Mountain” where nothing more than a hill rose as far as I could tell, or the excitement at cresting the summit of “Hilltop Road,” these jokes are made with a bit of restraint. We know what comes next. Alberta’s flat land is nothing in comparison to that place that lies ahead.

Grand Prairie is a town that, if it could magically disappear somehow off the face of the planet, I would jump for joy of never having to go through it again. But, it is a hideous string of box stores, strip malls, traffic lights, and houses that all look identical. It needs to be escaped from as quickly as possible, but, given all the traffic lights, it is not possible to escape quickly enough. Poule Coup looks exactly like the type of town you would picture when you hear that name. The town of Hythe, proudly displays it’s two town slogans: (1) The town where wells flow and (2) The volunteer capital of Alberta. What people are volunteering for there, is beyond me. But, the town has a beautiful, old, blue grain elevator. The town of Beaverlodge boasts it’s main attraction proudly before you enter: “Giant Beaver Attraction.” We of course, took pictures, of both the sign and the giant beaver attraction.

Moose crossing road signs are not standardized from province to province in Canada, nor within a province. One type looks something like the silhouette of a dog with moose antlers. Another, we have dubbed “The Thanksgiving Moose” or “Barbie Moose.” He is very top-heavy and has ridiculously thin, nearly nonexistent legs that could not possibly support his massively disproportionate upper body. Owen will be incredibly sad to realize that he will no longer be living in moose country, which is a bit of a heartbreaker. They are, of course, along with rainbow trout, his favorite animals. Because both are “so beautiful” as well as “really yummy.” I sometimes wonder how I managed to give birth to such an angel.

Tonight we head to Calgary to visit with Jaspreet, who was my first and closest friend when I first moved to Fairbanks.

We just passed a sign that said “Important Intersection Ahead.” Whew…good to know. I don’t know what makes it important – historic event? Home of a government official? Parade? But they say it is, so there you go.

To get to Calgary, we have to go through Edmonton. Which is yet another place that I wouldn’t mind somehow wiping off the map. I’ll let you know how it goes. We may gry some farm roads around Edmonton just to not experience that hell again.

Notes From the Flat Lands of Canada:

Edmonton was successfully navigated by Sarah’s discovery of a bypass, just to spite Edmonton by not going through it, due to our shared feelings on the topic of Edmonton. I enjoyed seeing Jaspreet. She is a great person and a good friend, though our stays in Fairbanks only overlapped by a few months, now many years ago, I felt a little like time stands still when reuniting with friends. Calgary is a likeable city. Big, by my standards, with a population around 1 million, but it has nice views of mountains, so that alone puts a likeable quality into a city in my book.

We made a fabulous detour today to the Royal Tyrrell Museum. It is an amazing dinosaur museum located in the badlands of Alberta. Owen, of course, thoroughly enjoyed the museum, as did Sarah and I, because, well, let’s face it, who doesn’t love dinosaurs? We also enjoyed a great little nature hike where we got to enjoy some views of the badlands and finally stretch our legs again.

So, driving in eastern Alberta and Saskatchewan, I feel like I need to really speed. And I can’t possibly drive as fast as I feel I need to. I’m not sure if it is because I feel the need to escape the plains or if it just because I am mentally not well adjusted to the concept of how long it takes to reach a point on the horizon, given how far away the horizon is. And driving in the northern prairie puts one, as Sarah expressed it, in “prairie driving mode,” which can’t really be well explained if you have never done it. But it is something like a feeling that is similar to entering a time warp, where all thoughts, feelings, and a general sense of being become sucked into a black hole and are forever lost until the reappearance of topography. It reminds of a Landolfi story, where the real fear is that nothingness exists.

We just made a quick tour of the Village of Piapot. We were looking for a bathroom, and the name just sounded right. But, something felt a little too off. Perhaps if we had actually gone in to the local bar, we would have met some wonderful characters, but it is hard to find the gumption to chat it up with the locals when you have a car full of people and pets who need to pee.

And, on that topic, I have noticed that in this region, the number of Speedometer Check Sections of highway far outnumber, at a ratio of roughly 20 to 1, any form of rest stop or outhouse. In a place where there is no topography or sizeable vegetative forms and one must consume massive doses of coffee to keep awake, this seems a bit unfair. Unless the Canadians are trying to force people to stay awake through severe discomfort. It really seems like they could have saved a little money on the signs and surveying required for the excessive number of Speedometer Checks and put in an occasional outhouse. Really, I’m not asking for much, but it’s kind of hard to explain to passing vehicles that they just need to turn their heads for a moment. It reminds me of doing field work in Barrow, when I was trying to explain to my work companion, who was a Japanese scientist with relatively poor English language skills, “Could you just not look in this direction for a couple of minutes?”

Medicine Hat, by the way, I shall just mention, for the sake of record keeping, is yet another city that caused us to feel like we needed to run away screaming from. Apparently, the shining glory of Medicine Hat is that it is home to the World’s Largest Teepee. It is a metal frame replica of a teepee. I took a picture of it out the rear window as we were driving away from it. It seemed like the perfect setting for such a structure.

It just started snowing. We are in Saskatchewan. I am convinced that Saskatchewan does not want to redeem itself in my regards. (Although, despite all my complaining about it, I actually really do love driving through the plains. It is a good feeling.) And I’ll sign off, as we head off to a night in Regina at the home of one of Sarah’s friends’ parents. It should be nice.

Oh, and I should mention, that there was an embarassing debacle with the car, just outside of Marmie's Den, a restaurant in Hebert. The customers of the restaurant and the general community of Hebert, about half of whom must have been involved in our rescue, are amazingly nice people. Someday, I will go back there. But, at the very least, I intend to look up the address of the restaurant and send a nice thank you postcard from Virginia, addressed to the residents of the community of Hebert, Saskatchewan. Canadians are just ridiculously nice.