Mal and Connie's Cross Canada Adventure 2.0

US 2 West and Small Town USA

We woke before 6 this morning, likely due to gaining an hour driving from the Maritimes to Maine. It was chilly in the trailer overnight (14 celsius) but as Connie says, it’s the perfect temperature for sleeping. Funny how things change. When we were young, Connie was always cold at night and I warm. I have vivid memories of her placing her ice cold feet on my toasty warm legs. Today, she’s always too hot and I’m the one freezing. Aging is a funny process.

After contacting our host and sending them a donation and thanking them for our stay, we hit the road. It was shortly after 8am EST.

For much of the day we drove west on US 2. If we stuck to this route, we’d leave the US in NY and reenter in Michigan. Rather than avoid the hassle of multiple border crossings, we are going to stay in the US until we reach Washington State.

Prior to leaving New Brunswick, we were on and off about driving home via the US. I really didn’t want to drive through northern Ontario again. In my opinion, if you’ve done it once you really don’t need to do it again. Also, I have always wanted to see Maine and Vermont.

One evening Carissa (my daughter in law) decided to ask ChatGPT to chart a couple different routes home, avoiding northern Ontario. I have not used ChatGPT much but I was impressed…at first. I chatted with Connie and we decided to go for it.

My son Sam tells me that ChatGPT is being used a lot by university students these days. While it can write you an impressive essay on a topic of your choice, it has its limitations. If you scratch below the surface you are likely to find a lot of errors. The AI firms know this and they want to fix it. Sam told me he’s been head hunted by a few firms to teach their AI chemistry. He’s declined.

The morning after Carissa sent me the ChatGPT route, I sat down to book places to stay. I reviewed ChatGPT’s recommendations for RV parks but decided to book some Harvest Host sites instead. After day 3, I noticed something off. The AI suggested we could drive from eastern NY to Michigan in one day. It suggested it would be a long day but all highway driving, so not to worry. Actually it was 15 hours of driving!

After that I decided to map out my own route and book my own overnight stops. I did however follow the AI’s recommendation of a campground in Onion River, just east of Plainfield Vermont. Connie and I checked the website, looked at the photos and thought, hey it will do.

The drive along US 2 was pleasant and relaxing. The foliage is beautiful but I can only imagine how pretty it will be in a few weeks.

We crossed three states, Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. We drove through towns called Canaan, Bethel, Gilead, Bethlehem and Mexico. Every town had at least one church. Most all of the buildings were old, some were beautifully kept and others not so much. Many of these towns were established in the 1700’s, so many of the homes are well over 100 years old. Some buildings were built from stone, some brick and others wood. This is one thing I really appreciate about the east and in particular the US east. They let stuff get old. In the west, we tear everything down and build new.

We stopped in New Hampshire around 1130am to stretch our legs and have a bite of lunch. It was our first time in Maine and Vermont and Connie’s first time in New Hampshire. I visited New Hampshire while on a business trip to Boston several years ago. Ethan was 17 and I brought him along with me. New Hampshire’s motto is Live Free or Die. We did notice several motorcyclists sans helmets.

We arrived in Onion River at 130pm. To access the campground we drove across a single lane bridge with a sign stating maximum weight 20,000 lbs. I wasn’t too concerned until we turned into the campground. It was pretty rustic (I’m being generous with my words). As we pulled in, a guy walked across the dusty gravel yard to greet us. He was in bare feet and well weathered. He asked us if we had a reservation and I said yes and gave him our last name. He then asked what site we were in. I was thinking…don’t you know? He ran across the yard to another building to get a map and show us the location of the site. He told me it might be a little small for my trailer (I did fill that part out of the reservation when I booked), so if we preferred, I could park in the back field.

We proceeded to drive into the campsite which looked to have a few permanent folks staying there. Our site was occupied by a tent surrounded by several full garbage bags. We proceeded on to survey the back field and after a quick glance I said to Connie, “It’s early. Let’s keep driving and find something else.” The campground looked nothing like the website or the brochure/site map. The sites were not at all level and I doubt the water quality had been recently tested. I wished we’d taken a few photos to share but you will just have to take my word for it. We are out about $60 USD but c’est la vie.

We kept driving along US 2 until we found a large enough spot to pull over and make a call to book another place for the night. Fortunately, it’s September and the kids are back at school, so there are plenty of vacancies. We are staying in a lovely spot at Apple Island RV Resort on the shores of Lake Champlain.

All things considered we thought Maine, Vermont and New Hampshire were beautiful. One day we will return to drive down the coast of Maine to Massachusetts (minus the trailer) when the fall colours are in full bloom.

Tomorrow we make our way to New York and I can’t wait to find what new adventures await us.

Until next time, thanks for reading.

I’ve never been very good at saying goodbye

Goodbye doesn’t mean forever
Let me tell you goodbye doesn’t mean
We’ll never be together again
If you wake up and I’m not there, I won’t be long away
David Gates

It’s hard to believe the summer is nearing an end. We’ve been away from our home in West Kelowna since June 26 and likely won’t be back until September 26…3 months!

Since my last post, we’ve kept ourselves busy spending time in Bathurst (mostly) and Moncton. I’m still recovering from my cracked rib(s) primarily due to the fact I didn’t rest enough for them to heal. It’s hard for me to sit still. I come by it honestly as my dad was the same. If there was work to do, he’d be doing it, and often I was helping him.

Ethan and Carissa live on five acres near Bathurst and when one has acreage there is always something to do. Sam and Leona purchased a new home in Moncton and took possession in July and despite being new there is also lots to do.

It was pure joy for me to work alongside my boys (and their wives) doing what needed to be done. In fact, I don’t think there is anything I’d rather do in life. I’m a little terrified of the day when I don’t have the physical strength to do this kind of thing. Perhaps that’s why I just plowed ahead sore ribs be damned.

At Ethan and Carissa’s we cut down standing dead trees, cut up deadfalls and split wood by hand. I was physically exhausted most days but honestly loved every minute of it. Carissa is a workhorse! She dragged trees out of the forest and despite me offering my help, said no way. It was so rewarding to see their place cleaned up before fall. By the time we left, they had close to 2 cords of wood stacked in the woodshed.

In Moncton, Sam, Leona and I hung blinds, mirrors, towel racks and toilet paper holders. They pressure washed, sanded and stained their sundeck all on their own, and before we left the contractors had come to pave the driveway and landscape the yard.

If there was one thing that surprised me about New Brunswick, it was how dry and hot it was. I never expected lengthy periods of hot and dry weather and I certainly didn’t expect forest fires. There were a few while we visited, the largest of which was near Miramichi, an hour south of Bathurst. Fortunately, there was very little smoke where we stayed.

In early August, Ethan took Carissa and me on a tour of his mill. It was great to see the operation and I was so proud of him as he showed us around.

The day following the tour, a forest fire broke out less than a kilometre from his mill. Ethan shut down and evacuated the mill and took a few men with him to fight the fire. The Interfor crew were on site knocking it down with water trucks within minutes. Ethan called his colleague in Miramichi to send a couple of bulldozers so they could build a fire break between the fire and the mill, and then grabbed a fire hose and walked into the bush to douse the flames. Eventually a few bombers came to spray retardant and when the fire break was complete, the fire service crew along with the Interfor crew contained the fire. Ethan’s crew stayed all night to monitor the fire and put out hot spots. Had it not been for Ethan and his team, the fire would have spread to the mill and ultimately towards Bathurst. The forest service supervisor told Ethan that he was very impressed with how Ethan remained calm and knew just what to do. Ethan smiled and said, it’s because I’m from BC.

Connie spent most of her Bathurst days with Boden. He loves his Maaamaaa best. He loves Buppa too but when there’s a choice, guess who he goes to? There were a few times when Buppa got to baby sit while Carissa and Maaamaaa went shopping. Boden is a busy little fella and we had loads of fun playing with his toys. Some days he’d come out to help his Mom and Buppa work in the yard.

On a few occasions we went into town for ice cream or “imeam”. Like his grandpa, Boden isn’t too fussy about the flavour, he just loves to eat it. One afternoon we went to the park and beach to have an early dinner. Grandpa thought he should get some authentic Acadian poutine before leaving town. I did and I’m not thinking I need it again. After dinner, I purchased a couple of milkshakes (perhaps the best I’ve ever had), one for me and one for Ethan and Carissa. Boden asked for “a little bit” of a sip…about 15 times! He definitely takes after his Grandpa.

On one of our trips to Moncton to spend the weekend with Sam and Leona, we drove to Sackville and toured Mount Allison University where Sam is a professor. We toured the campus but my favourite part was seeing Griffin Chemistry Lab after passing through the Griffindoor.

Ethan took vacation during the last week of August so it was great to spend a little extra time with him. We celebrated Carissa’s birthday on Wednesday and on the Thursday, Connie and I said goodbye to Ethan, Carissa and Boden. Connie and I shed a lot of tears but Boden took it in stride. Carissa and Connie were preparing him for our departure and I guess it worked. He hugged his Maaamaaa and Buppa hard and then waved goodbye as we drove away.

We booked a campsite for our stay in Moncton. Fortunately, it was just 10 minutes from Sam and Leona’s new home. On Saturday, we drove to PEI and toured Charlottetown, drove along the coastline, stopped at several beaches and at the Anne of Green Gables Museum in Cavendish. Connie, Zach and I had been there during our last trip and other than it being a bit busier, it was still worth the stop.

Shortly after arriving we stopped in Victoria-by-the-Sea, a cute little seaside town.

As we walked along the pier, I bid good morning to a guy and gal who were docking their boat. They were from New Brunswick and had cruised over to store their boat in Charlottetown for the winter. We got to chatting and told them where we were from and immediately he offered to take us out on the water despite having just navigated his way into the harbour. I was very tempted but thanked him and declined as we had places to go. One has to love Maritime hospitality.

We ate fresh lobster in Charlottetown at Dave’s Lobster (Dave is the brother of Connie’s friend and former work colleague Andrea) and stopped to buy a Cows ice cream before our return to Moncton. The weather was fantastic and we were privileged to watch the sunset as we drove across the Confederation Bridge.

We spent our final day in Moncton helping Sam and Leona with a few things around the house. After dinner, we said our goodbyes (again lumps in our throats and tears in our eyes) and headed back to the campsite to pack up.

This morning we were on the road shortly after 8 and made our way towards Woodstock New Brunswick and Houlton Maine. We arrived at the border crossing just prior to noon and were greeted by a friendly and kind customs officer. After a few questions about our return home, we were through the border and on our way to Pittsfield and the Maine Center for Classic Aviation, where we are spending the night at a Harvest Host site.

We drove down the I95 enjoying the thick forest on either side of the highway (the colours are going to be gorgeous here in a month). After a short stop in Bangor to purchase some groceries, we arrived at the Harvest Host site. As I write, it’s just us and another couple from Vermont spending the night. I went out to greet him when he pulled in and he said “you must be Canadian by your accent!” I laughed. He was born in Ottawa, Ontario and has family in Victoria BC. It’s a small and beautiful world and we are feeling blessed.

Before ending, I’ll leave you with the words by Jim Croce which I think are fitting for us.

I’ve Got a Name
Like the pine trees lining the winding road
I’ve got a name
I’ve got a name
Like the singing bird and the croaking toad
I’ve got a name
I’ve got a name
And I carry it with me like my daddy did
But I’m living the dream that he kept hid
Moving me down the highway
Rolling me down the highway
Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by
Like the North wind whistling down the sky
I’ve got a song
I’ve got a song
Like the whip-poor-will and the babies crying
I’ve got a song
I’ve got a song
And I carry it with me and I sing it proud
If it gets me nowhere, I’ll go there proud
Moving me down the highway
Rolling me down the highway
Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by
And I’m gonna go there free
Like the fool I am and I’ll always be
I’ve got a dream
I’ve got a dream
They can change their minds but they can’t change me
I’ve got a dream
I’ve got a dream
I know I could share it if you want me to
If your going my way I’ll go with you
Moving me down the highway
Rolling me down the highway
Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by
Moving me down the highway
Rolling me down the highway
Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by

Until next time, thanks for reading.

The Last Leg

Some of you are wondering what happened to us, since I didn’t post a blog of the last leg of our journey from Quebec City to Bathurst, NB.

I’m happy to report we made it safe and sound. It’s just that we became a little distracted with our grandson and I went to work on Ethan and Carissa’s todo list almost immediately. The blog had to wait until yours truly was placed on the injury reserve list due to over 60 stupidity. More on that later.

The journey from Quebec City was mostly uneventful. We stopped briefly in Rivière-Du- Loup the birthplace of Connie’s maternal grandfather. The stop was impromptu – at the last exit and last moment, I turned toward a PetroCan to top up the gas tank. Unfortunately, the station was closed for upgrades so I continued on into town trying to find another gas station.

For some strange reason I had blocked from my memory the terrain of this little city. It wasn’t long before the memories came rushing back. During our last trip we stopped in an attempt to find the cemetery where Connie’s great grandfather was buried. On that trip our trailer was five feet shorter and we were towing it with a Toyota Tundra. To add insult to injury the very steep hills (10% plus grade) were dug up for sewer line replacement. This time the roads were in better shape but pulling our thirty foot trailer with our fully loaded Ford F150 made it equally joyful.

We managed to escape unscathed but without gas. Connie would like to return a third time but when we do, we will better plan our route and stay. Apparently there is a nice campground mid city, so perhaps we will stay there and bike or walk to the church cemetery.

Eager to see our grandson, we sped toward Bathurst with a short stop for lunch and fuel at the Flying J in Edmunston NB. The service centre there is huge and was very busy. RV’s and transport trucks enter and exit a separate area. Unfortunately for us, there was only one gas pump in this section. The right side of the pump was occupied but the left empty, so I drove around to come in from the other side and was met by a transport truck who decided to pull into “my spot” and wash his windows. I expelled a few choice words and gave him the death stare but it was of no avail. As I impatiently waited, cursing under my breath, we soon became entertained by the fellow on the right side of the gas pump who was screaming out at the pump (I assume expletives) in French, which evidently was refusing to authorize his credit card. Connie took this opportunity to provide me with a teaching moment on being patient.

Shortly after Edmunston, we turned off the Trans Canada to take Highways 17 and 180, a shorter and more remote route to Bathurst. After turning on 180 at St-Quentin, we soon decided we wouldn’t return this way. The road ranked among the roughest we’d been on in some time. That said it was worth it as we rolled up to meet our grandson welcoming us on the driveway of his home.

We took a couple of weekend’s off and drove to Moncton to be with Sam and Leona as they moved into their new home. While in Bathurst, Connie has been spending most of her time with Boden, who is becoming rather attached to Grandma. Papa, my new name, has been kept busy working with Carissa patching, sanding doors, painting, and installing new baseboards and trim; building closets with Ethan; and doing various outdoor jobs – including cutting the grass on the ride on mower, which is how the injury occurred.

Riding the mower – notice the rehung doors on the woodshed 🙂

You may be asking, how does one injure themselves on a riding lawnmower? Today’s new power equipment has safeguards to prevent nearly every possible injury from occurring. Well, challenge accepted!

This machine has a pressure sensor under the seat, so that when one stands up, the mower disengages. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I was raised during a time when things weren’t disengaged until you physically disengaged them.

I was have a grand time cutting the grass when a good sized tree branch appeared in my path. Rather than getting off the seat of the mower and removing the branch, I decided to drive around it and pick it up while in motion. As I drove by, I leaned over the arm rest putting significant pressure on my chest, while using my arse to maintain adequate pressure on the seat to prevent the mower from disengaging. It seemed like a good idea at the time and I proudly retrieved the branch just as I felt a substantive crack in my rib area. For the rest of the day, I ignored my discomfort and kept working and praying that no one would notice. By now, I’m certain you can conclude how well that worked out.

Last weekend all seven of us took a trip to Nova Scotia with an overnight in Halifax and two overnights in Moncton where Sam and Leona live.

Nighttime view of the Angus L Macdonald Bridge

Peggy’s Cove – one of the prettiest spots on the planet

I’m not one for sailing but if I was I think Captain would be the right role for me.

Today I am sitting writing this blog entry outside our trailer in Ethan and Carissa’s backyard enjoying the warm summer sun.

I’m hoping tomorrow with another day’s rest and the help of some pain killers I can get back to work in the yard as there is lots to do and I don’t like sitting still.

Until next time, thanks for reading.

Sturgeon Falls to Quebec City

We slept late Tuesday. Our drive from Sturgeon Falls to Pembroke was short, so there was no need to get on the road too early. After breakfast we packed up and were driving by 9am. After a short stop for groceries at Sobeys in North Bay, we took our time enjoying (or enduring, depending on your point of view) the scenery.

At around 1pm we arrived in Pembroke, the heart of the Ottawa River Valley, and pulled into an Irving Big Stop and fuelled up. It was the first Irving gas station we’d come across in Ontario but not the last. Some say the Irving family own pretty much everything in the Maritimes but it appears they are branching into Ontario also. Fortunately, our Harvest Host stop was right across the road and after topping up the fuel we pulled in, parked and set up.

After a quick bite of lunch, we went to see our host at O’Kenny Distillery. When we walked up and tried the doors they were locked and the store hours sign indicated they were only open Saturday to Monday. I thought oh, oh! Fortunately, our host Andrew was inside and opened the door for us. I asked “are you closed?” He told us that he’d informed Harvest Hosts that he was closed for guests for all of July and August. Then he said, not a problem tho, you can stay as my main summer business (the tubing rental business) is not busy today. I thought his story was off because my understanding and experience from other hosts is that they must approve your stay. Ours was approved a couple months ago. Hmmm.

Andrew offered us a taste test of his spirits – he only had 3 available – Whiskey, Vodka and Rhiskey, a blend of Rum and Whiskey. I tasted but Connie declined. She hates the stuff. We bought a couple of items from the store and Andrew encouraged us to rent tubes and float down the Muskrat River to the Ottawa River. I had an earlier look at that dirty river and suspect he read my facial expression, no thanks! He then suggested if we had bikes, we should bike to the downtown of Pembroke and ride the Algonquin Trail, a bike, walk, ATV, snowmobile, dog sled and horse riding path along the east bank of Ottawa River. With time to kill, we hopped on the bikes and rode to town.

Kyakers entering the mouth of the Muskrat from the Ottawa River

The trip downtown was less than ideal as there are no official bike lanes and the traffic was heavy. However, the Algonquin Trail and the City’s River Front Park were lovely. After a relaxing ride along the trail, we stopped to snack on ice cream before riding through the downtown streets and snapping a few photos.

It was warm and hot when we returned to the RV, so I plugged in to the truck generator power and turned on the air conditioning. It’s pretty handy having this hybrid truck when you are in a spot without AC power.

After dinner it began to cool down and a slight breeze began to blow. Connie checked the reviews on our Harvest Host spot and six days prior another guest mentioned that an unwanted visitor arrived late in the night and was checking them out. The visitor eventually left but I thought oh joy, here we go again! Another North Battleford experience.

We went to bed early as we planned an early start for our trip to Quebec City. We expected it to be 6 to 7 hours, our longest drive yet. I slept poorly the entire night, likely due to the prospect of an unexpected guest. Fortunately, the night was quiet and uneventful. We rose early and were on the road by 620am.

At Casselman, we stopped and treated ourselves to a Tim Horton’s Coffee and breakfast sandwich. I definitely like our home brewed Starbucks coffee better but breakfast out was a nice change. The lady serving us was senior to us, very abrupt and French Canadian. I asked her how her day was going and she completely ignored the question. I suspect she thought: “What a stupid question! I’m serving people like you at Tim Horton’s at 645am, how do you think I’m doing?” I kept smiling and she did friendly up a bit when she handed us our coffees. I watched and listened as she served the two gentlemen behind us and concluded this was just her usual happy demeanour.

As we continued down the highway approaching Renfrew, we passed by a sign that read, Yonder Hill Trail. I love these road names and picture in my mind an old timer saying “it’s the trail down by the yonder hill.”

If you’ve been reading my previous blog posts, you may recall me mentioning my maternal grandmother being born in Dauphin Manitoba. Her parents moved there from Renfrew Ontario prior to her birth. My mom recorded all the details of this somewhere in the midst of approximately nine boxes that are currently stacked in my home office. I do need to go through them at some point as I know my kids don’t want to do it!

You may also recall me mentioning that my grandparents home in Delia Alberta was built from an Eaton’s Catalog home plan. My sister Pauline texted me this morning to correct me. It wasn’t only a house plan but the entire supply of materials needed to build the house, including windows and doors. If you are interested you can read more here https://share.google/sww7W1iI1iZAg9K9G.

While we are on the topic of corrections, my former work colleague Madelene informed me that Canada’s national bird is not the Canada Goose rather it’s the Gray Jay also known as the Whiskey Jack. For the record, I love it when I’m corrected. It lets me know people are reading my stuff!

The drive from Pembroke to Renfrew was quite foggy, despite the temperature being warm. I’m not used to this being from the Okanagan Valley, where it is only foggy from November to February. I’m exaggerating a bit but it is typically grey for those months, unless you go skiing on the hills above the clouds or get in your car or on a plane and head south.

It wasn’t long before we reached Ottawa and our first rush hour. It was slow going for about 45 minutes but we finally made it through and headed toward Montreal. We stopped for gas at Dépanneur, Ontario and it was $1.25 per litre. This was the lowest gas price we’ve seen to date.

We stopped for a bathroom break and a stretch at the Quebec Tourist Information 12 kilometres inside the provincial boundary. Shortly after, Sam texted us and suggested if we weren’t going to stop in Montreal, it would be best to take the canal bi-pass highway which is tolled but much quicker. He was correct and it was worth it despite the $13.80 toll. We did hit a few stop and go spots but we got through and were on our way to Quebec City shortly after noon.

At 1230pm we turned into a rest stop near St Bruno De Montarville. I got a kick out of the warning sign below right.

While making our way to Quebec City KOA, a string of classic cars merged on to the freeway. Below are a couple of photos we captured on the GoPro.

We wondered if they were on the way to Moncton for this weekend’s Atlantic Nationals Automobile Extravaganza (https://atlanticnationals.com/).

At 245pm we arrived at the Quebec City KOA. The temperature was 29 celsius but it felt hotter given the humidity. The last time we stayed here, we were with Zach and spent 2 nights and a day and an evening exploring old Quebec City on our bikes and on foot. Since we are leaving early tomorrow morning, we won’t visit this time but when we come this way again, we will stay longer and do some touring.

Until next time, thanks for reading.

Canada’s national bird should have been the Peregrine Falcon

The road from Thunder Bay to Sault Ste Marie is…well…rather boring. At least I find it that way. Kilometres and kilometres of similar terrain and scenery (rocks and trees mostly). While signs are posted to remind you that services are limited, we had little issue fuelling up despite our less than optimal gas mileage.

We left Marathon about 830am and it was sunny, dry but windy the entire way to Sault Ste Marie. Given the wind, I drove a little slower (partly for gas mileage and partly because the trailer sways more in the wind).

Like every other day since entering Ontario, we saw several provincial police cruisers. Some cars, some SUVs and some pickup trucks. More than once, they whipped by us going to who knows where, as we never caught up with them or the incident they were called to. A couple had pulled over semi trucks for infractions of some kind, and cars for speeding. It’s been a few years since I travelled north of Prince George in BC but we’ve seen more traffic police on this trip than I’ve seen in Kelowna during the last two years.

Given I was driving a bit slower, I tried hard to pull over when safe, or slow down in the passing lane sections, to allow cars and trucks to pass me. Most of the time I drove at the maximum speed limit of 90 kilometres per hour. However, one semi-truck driver decided to climb up my backside and let me know he was behind me by pulling half-way into the oncoming lane of traffic. Shortly thereafter, he decided to pass me on a blind corner and when he saw a motor cycle coming the other way, thought it best to cut early into my lane. His passenger was motioning out the window to me, I presume to tell me I should slow down. I remained calm but shared with him a few choice words suggesting perhaps he shouldn’t have passed on a blind corner and double line, especially when the next passing lane was just 2 kilometres away. As the old saying goes, “where is a cop when you need him?”

We continued on our way and passed by the Yellow Brick Road. I kid you not! There was an actual road sign. Too bad I didn’t snap a photo.

One of our stops was in Wawa, where you can snap a photo of a giant goose. Wawa means wild goose in Ojibway. I’m curious when they named these creatures wild goose, were there any domestic geese? Furthermore, who came up with the bright idea to declare this goose Canada’s national bird? I realize the eagle was taken but couldn’t we have picked something else, perhaps a Peregrine Falcon. They live in every province and territory except PEI and they don’t poop all over the grass in our parks and on our beaches. In addition, I’ve never heard of someone getting Peregrine Falcon itch after swimming in a lake. But I digress.

The Trans-Canada route (highway 17) curves along the north edge of Lake Superior until you reach Sault Ste Marie and then it’s Lake Huron. As I was driving I almost had the sense that we were on the edge of the ocean.

We stopped (twice) to visit the shores of Lake Superior, the largest of the Great Lakes and the one the Ojibwa call Gichi-gami (or as Gordon Lightfoot pronounced it Gitcha-gumi). We wanted to find a picnicking spot for lunch but our first stop was so small and full of cars, that I had a tough time getting back out to the highway. Eventually we found Lake Superior Provincial Park Visitor Centre with adequate parking and stopped there for a quick bite. Unfortunately the mosquitos were in the mood to have us for a bite of lunch.

We arrived at the KOA Campground in Sault Ste Marie at about 230pm. After getting set up we decided to drive downtown to see the sites. I found a local brewery and picked up some Soo Beer. The place was closed for a private event but we walked in anyway and were greeted by some of the party goers as though were long lost friends. In my experience if you act like you belong and you can almost get away with anything.

We walked along the boardwalk and looked across the water to the USA side. I expect the Soo Locks are worth seeing but we’ll have to leave that for another time.

A US tour boat. Note the US flags in the background.

The US flags were flying at half mast. I expect this was due to the tragic loss of life from the Texas river flood.

After a quick stop at Canadian Tire to pick up a tube of grease for my hitch ball, followed by a fuel stop at the Flying J, we returned to the campsite for the night. Coincidentally, it was almost to the day, six years ago (July 7, 2019) we stayed at this KOA.

In the middle of the night, I awoke suddenly from a dream. I was driving a black 1960’s era Chevelle (I have no idea why as I don’t know anyone who has such a car) and my nephew-in-law Richard was driving my old 1949 Ford truck across the Okanagan Lake Bridge when we were pulled over by a policeman. The policeman wrote me a ticket saying there was a violation that required me to rebore my cylinders. I was livid! Why on earth would I need to do that? He stated it was because I was burning too much fuel. I It was then that I really lost it! Reboring the cylinders wasn’t going to help the gas mileage and the truck doesn’t burn a drop of oil (a more appropriate reason to rebore the cylinders). Further more, the truck is 76 years old and when it was made, gas was so cheap and no one cared about fuel economy. I don’t care about fuel economy in a truck that is a Sunday driver. It was at that point, I woke up. My chest was pounding, I was so worked up.

I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was thinking about how I would prove that I rebored my cylinders. I’d need a receipt. That means I’d have to take it to a machine shop. If I did that, I might just as well rebuild the entire engine. Funny how the mind wanders, especially at 230am. Eventually I fell back asleep.

Connie and I slept until about 7am but after a quick breakfast and a stop at the Sani dump, we were on the road by 9am. While we were at the Sani I saw an Amish gentleman watching us. Too bad I didn’t have time to chat (others were behind us in the Sani dump line) as I would have liked to ask him a few questions. I bet he’d be an interesting person to get to know.

The weather was overcast but looking like it would clear up as we left Sault Ste Marie. The scenery on the drive was much the same as previous days although we saw less of Lake Huron as we moved eastward.

Once again we encountered some odd named roads, such as Little Seen Road. I guess one could argue that is an apt name but one has to admit, it is a bit odd. Shortly after we encountered an Amish lady and her kids making their way along the shoulder of the highway. Perhaps she was out to visit Seldom Seen?

Almost to the day six years ago, we saw this gentleman.

We arrived in Sudbury shortly after noon. The GPS directed us around the city, so we didn’t see much other than a couple of smoke stacks in the distance. We pulled over at a now closed visitor centre on the east side of the city and had a bite of lunch.

It was a short drive from Sudbury to Sturgeon Falls but we were stopped a couple of times due to road painting and paving. We arrived at the KOA at about 230pm and set up before heading downtown to get fuel and see if there was anything worth seeing. Prior to leaving we learned that one can actually travel by boat from the KOA to the downtown via the Sturgeon River. We elected to drive.

Shortly after leaving the KOA, we saw this fellow. Our truck is a hybrid and was running on battery and it took him a bit to notice us, so Connie was able to get a few good photos.

Downtown, we found very little except a little shop called Chez Jean-Marc Boulangerie. We picked up some fresh baked buns, bread, and a few cookies and pastries.

Tomorrow we head to Pembroke, our last night in Ontario. We will be staying at another Harvest Host and it should be interesting. Stay tuned! Tomorrow will be a short travel day but the following two days will be long until we reach Bathurst to see Ethan, Carissa and Boden. Three more sleeps Boden!

Until next time, thanks for reading.

The Canadian Shield

It’s been two days since we left Dauphin and my last post. As we entered Ontario, our daughter-in-law Carissa jokingly suggesting to us we’d be in Ontario and Quebec for the next month given the size of the two provinces. One could spend a lot of time in each but we are motivated to see our grandson who is growing up really fast!

Our first stop was in Kenora Ontario, located on the shores of The Lake of the Woods. Kenora is a cute little town and in hindsight we should have booked to stay a couple of nights so we could tour the town and the surrounding area. I remember my oldest sister Linda saying she loved Kenora. It’s easy to see why she liked it. When Linda was in her 30’s, Linda and her cousin Shirley travelled to Ontario and spent about a year travelling and working in various cities.

Connie and I awoke at 3am July 3 to the sounds of thunder. When we looked out the window, the sky was active with lighting. Shortly after, the rain came and it poured hard. We hardly slept a wink. At 7am it stopped so we packed up and hit the road to our next destination, Thunder Bay.

Shortly after leaving Kenora, we were surprised to see a grey wolf (also known as the timber wolf) on the side of the road. He just stood there and watched us. At first, I thought he was a coyote but the closer we got, we realized he was too big for a coyote. The photo isn’t super clear because I pulled it from my GoPro and I wasn’t quick enough to start recording and barely had time to capture him.

The grey wolf is on the left side of the road.

Crossing Northern Ontario and the Canadian Shield isn’t my favourite road trip but it’s something everyone should see at least once. One thing you notice is frequent signage reminding you to check your gas level, as services are limited between the major locations.

We arrived at the KOA Campground in Thunder Bay about 3pm, unhooked and set up the trailer for the night. We then drove a short way back to the city to buy some groceries and fill up with gas. Thunder Bay traffic was definitely busier than when we passed through six years ago. A sign of the times I guess. You can purchase cold beer in the grocery store here but I didn’t see any wine. Funny that BC is the opposite. One thing I learned after 33 years working in public service, every government and entity wants to be unique, or as I used to call it “special”.

The weather was sunny and warm but the westward skies looked threatening. Connie did a couple of loads of laundry and after dinner, I packed up what I could, rolled in the awning and waited for the rain. There were a group of tenters just up from us and I wished I’d had a tarpaulin with me, so I could lend it to them. They were going to need it.

At 830pm it began to rain and once again it rained hard. It poured all night and even in the morning while we readied the trailer and hooked up to get out on the road. We were a little wet and cold at first but soon dried out. I turned the seat and steering wheel heaters and was happy as a clam in no time.

It rained the entire trip to Marathon and temperatures dropped to 12 degrees celsius. At one point there was such dense fog, I said to Connie, “it’s July right?” Connie said I was grumpy all day. Perhaps she’s correct as I’m not fond of rain especially in the summer.

Since our last trip the highway has been four laned in several sections. I assume this is due to the federal government’s post Covid infrastructure spending. Several projects were still underway. I was particularly impressed with the bridge over the Nipigon River (see below).

Apparently Nipigon is home to the smallest Canadian Tire Store in Canada. We didn’t stop to check it out as it was in the downtown section off the main highway and I didn’t feel like maneuvering the truck and trailer through it. Grumpy? Perhaps.

We arrived in Marathon Ontario and our campsite on Penn Lake about 1pm. It was still raining but lightly. Finally the rain stopped about 3pm. With all the wet, the mosquitoes were in full force but after dinner we still went for a short walk around the park. The area is lush and green, and if the weather was warmer the lake would be great for paddle-boarding.

A 2km path through the woods around the lake.

We are back in the trailer now. I have the door open and the fireplace on. It’s quite lovely. Tomorrow morning, we head to Sault Ste Marie.

Until next time, thanks for reading.

We may never pass this way again

Life
So they say
Is but a game and they’d let it slip away
Love
Like the autumn sun
Should be dyin’
But it’s only just begun
_{Seals & Crofts 1973}

We had a restful sleep, woke early and broke the fast after a fresh cup of coffee. After a brief stop at the Flying J to refuel and empty the sani system, we were on the road by 830am.

The traffic into and out of Saskatoon was heavy but nothing like Vancouver or Kelowna. Our day was uneventful and the scenery much like everywhere else in Saskatchewan, except the air was a bit smokey. Traffic was light and the roads smooth until we reached Yorkton. It was there we turned east on Highway 10 toward Dauphin Manitoba.

Why Dauphin? Well, my grandmother on my mother’s side, Bessie Adelaide Dunfield was born in Dauphin in 1901. Her parents and her older siblings moved to Dauphin from Montreal sometime between 1899 and 1900, then they all left Dauphin sometime between 1901 and 1904, and moved to Delia Alberta. Apart from a brief stint working in Hollywood California, Grandma lived in Alberta until she met my grandfather Forrest while boarding at the home of Mr and Mrs White in Calgary. Grandpa was previously married to the White’s daughter Marion but sadly she died of cancer after Grandpa returned from fighting in WWI in 1918. Grandpa was visiting his in-laws and they thought Grandma would be the perfect match for this widower. The rest is as they say history.

In 2010, my sister Pauline and I did a road trip to Delia (well actually we stayed in Drumheller) with my Mom and Aunt Hattie Webber. We went to the museum and found as much information as we could about Grandma and her family. Pauline wanted to see the family home, an Eaton’s Catalogue home. Yes, back then you could purchase a detailed house plan and all the supplies (including windows and doors) from Eatons. If any of you are interested, you can learn more at https://share.google/sww7W1iI1iZAg9K9G. The home was still standing but not in its original spot. A family had purchased the old home and moved it to a farm somewhere north of Delia. Some locals told us where they thought it had been moved to, so we drove for miles looking for the house. Sadly we never found it but the trip was absolutely precious. It was the last one I took with Mom before she died.

So, when we decided to drive across Canada, I asked Connie if she’d mind us doing a detour to visit the city where my grandmother was born. She agreed and today, here we are. We won’t do it this trip but one day, Connie would like to visit Swan River where her grandparents on her dad’s side raised their family.

I think an apt name for the stretch of road between Yorkton and the Manitoba border would be the forgotten highway. While paved it was one of the roughest stretches of highway I’ve been on in recent years. I had no choice to drop 20 kilometres below the speed limit and we still bounced around the entire way. Amazingly, when we reached Manitoba the road was smooth as silk.

I was amazed how quickly the landscape and vegetation changed when we reached Manitoba. It seemed almost sudden there was more water, and forests of fir, spruce and deciduous trees.

Interestingly, so far gas is the least expensive in Manitoba. I paid $1.25 per litre this afternoon. A full 10 cents cheaper than Alberta.

We arrived at Vermillion Campground about 4pm and set up. There are only 4 or 5 RVs camped here tonight. There is a 2km walkway in the park that is lit 365 days per year. After dinner we went for a walk around the pathway and then through the downtown.

Canada’s most decorated war hero was born in Dauphin

The park is quite lovely but the downtown of Dauphin is like many interior and northern Canadian towns, fraught with social issues. Frankly I find it sad. I am full of opinions as to why things are the way they are, and what could be done to improve them but with age comes wisdom and I mostly keep my opinions to myself.

Perhaps it’s me. I find the older I get, I’m looking back at what was and wishing it still is. Alas, it can never be. The past is gone and the future, well it’s not mine and if you are of my generation it’s not yours either. It belongs to our children and grandchildren.

Until next time, thanks for reading!

Things aren’t always as they seem, skim milk sometimes masquerades as cream

We reserved a spot to spend the night on the grounds of the Western Development Museum, which is also Harvest Hosts location. As we were about to retire for the night, a couple of guys arrived in an orange car (that I diagnosed as needing a valve job) and parked on the grounds. They were exhibiting rather strange behaviour, driving around the grass and parking in different spots, and then driving off and returning again in a few minutes. When dusk arrived they drove off. We watched and waited awhile and it seemed they were not going to return. Where we were parked was well lit but we were the only RV on the grounds, so we went to bed feeling uneasy.

We slept lightly, if at all, until 1pm when a fifth wheel unit pulled in beside us. When we looked outside, I noticed a semi had also parked fairly near us, the driver likely catching a few winks. The orange car had returned accompanied by another van, and were parked at the far end of the grass nearby the neighbouring park. Like us, I presume they just needed a place to sleep for the night. So, we went back to bed and fell asleep soundly with the knowledge there is safety in numbers.

Despite nothing untoward occurring, I wouldn’t overnight at this host in the future. The museum is a great attraction but not the best Harvest Hosts spot.

We rose early in the morning and headed out to our next location. It would be our shortest drive on this entire journey, just 1.5 hours.

It was a beautiful day, Canada Day, and the traffic was light. We had contacted our host the previous day to inform them of our early arrival, and rolled into Twin Peaks Creamery in Warman, Saskatchewan at 1030am.

We checked in at the farm store and were met by Art the host (well actually his wife Elaine runs the show). Since the previous night’s guests (they were from Vernon, BC and were also travelling across Canada) hadn’t left and we weren’t in a hurry to set up, we stood outside and chatted with Art.

In 1991, Art and Elaine left their family farm in Abbotsford to purchase a 2800 acre farm in Warman, Saskatchewan. Four years ago, they purchased a former dairy farm on 200 acres, which is the location of Twin Peaks Creamery. Their eldest son runs the dairy operation and the creamery, another son manages the 2800 acre wheat and canola farm, a third son lives in Ottawa and is in the show cow business, a fourth son is a competitive volleyball player and is in his last year of an undergraduate business program at the university in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Their only daughter also lives on a farm in Alberta.

Connie and I moved from New Westminster to Chilliwack in 1993. We became friends with some dairy farmers on the Sumas Prairie. So Connie asked Art, “by any chance did you know Glenn and Cheryl.” To our surprise, Art said “yes.” It is true, there are only 6 degrees of separation…it’s such a small world.

Twin Peaks Creamery is by far our favourite Canadian Harvest Hosts site. Our truck and trailer are parked on grass and nestled up against a row of elm trees. A hedge of Caragana shields the property from the dust of the gravel road approaching the farm. We overlook an acre or more of grass, with a scattering of picnic tables. Visitors to the farm store can purchase meat (beef, pork and lamb) grown on the farm and a variety of ice cream flavours made on site. We filled our freezer with meat (and a little ice cream) and because it was Canada Day, joined the steady stream of visitors for an ice cream cone…not just once but twice. The store is open from 10am to 10pm daily, except Sundays.

There were several groups of bikers who road up from Saskatoon in addition to two ladies who rode their horses up for an ice cream treat.

Lucky, the farm dog seemed content to visit with us as we watched the visitors come and go.

In the late afternoon another couple from Edmonton rolled up in a motor home and parked beside us.

JP (Jean Paul) and Diane’s home base is in Edmonton but they live full time in their 40 foot, 2021 Tiffin motorhome. It is a real beauty. They too are heading east to New Brunswick, which is home to them.

JP was raised in Campbellton, an hour from Bathurst and worked for CN for 38 years in Edmonton, Halifax, Moncton and parts of Ontario. Diane grew up on the Gaspe Peninsula in Quebec and did her registered nurses training in Bathurst. She worked in hospitals, corrections and as a Telehealth nurse.

Since all their family is in New Brunswick and Quebec, JP and Diane make it a priority to visit Quebec and New Brunswick every two years.

They were a very nice couple. Connie and I visited with them for 3 hours this afternoon and evening. They gave us several recommendations of places to “camp” in NB, Maine, Rhode Island and New Hampshire. JP even got me thinking about living full time in a 40 foot motor coach. But then what would I do with my old Ford truck?

Until next time, happy reading.

A Carefree Highway

We woke early again this morning. Perhaps it was the farm rooster? In any case, after a relaxing breakfast we headed out on the road.

After doing a little research, we elected to drive highway 14 instead of 16. The GPS gave us 3 routes and all were the same in terms of time, so we picked highway 14 (The Poundmaker Trail). There was very little traffic the entire trip and the pavement was smooth most of the way.

Our only challenge was that we needed gas first thing. While our previous night’s host said there were lots of stations along the way, we didn’t find one for more than 40 kilometres. I’m not comfortable running too low on gas (sometime you can ask me why this is), so I keep a 5 gallon gerry can in the back of the truck. Thankfully we were able to fill before running too low and having to tap into the gerry can.

Mid morning we stopped off in Viking, the home of hockey’s famous Sutter family. The town is like most small towns in rural Canada, few shops other than a gas station, an auto parts store, a beer store, and a post office. We found no signs of the Sutters but decided to visit the local train station, which also served as an art gallery and cafe.

This sign was located above the cash register in the cafe.

I ordered a coffee and a freshly baked cinnamon bun and Connie ordered a piece of lemon meringue pie. The art gallery and cafe are staffed by the local hospital auxiliary and accept cash only – good thing I brought some along with us. A sweet elderly lady, likely in her mid 80’s, was running the operation, and while we waited for the cinnamon buns to finish baking, she took us on a little tour of the station.

Viking Station is one of a very few mid-way train stations (Jasper, Winnipeg, Edmonton and Viking) where Via Rail will stop and pick you up and take you either east to Toronto or West to Vancouver. While there is no permanent stationmaster staffing the station, there is an office where someone will come to work and hand you a ticket should you decided to start your journey from Viking. The elderly lady did warn us though…the train is never on time.

The station was sold to the town by the railway several years ago on the condition they move it 75 feet back from the track.

Hanging on the wall on the left, in the above photo, looks to be a couple of rakes. Those aren’t rakes but poles with two forks and a rope tied between. When there was a message to deliver, the stationmaster would attach the message to the rope and stand right beside the track as the train rolled by. The train engineer would slow the train down sufficiently, so a railroad employee on the train could grab the message as they rolled by.

I climbed the stairs to what was the station masters living quarters. The stairs reminded me of our first home in Chilliwack. Narrow and very steep. The photo above really doesn’t show how steep the climb was.

Our Chilliwack home had an added hazard. The door at the bottom was more narrow than the staircase, so there was a 6 by 6 inch gap between the door casing and the first step at the bottom. When Sam was a toddler, he climbed the stairs on his hands and knees to find his older brother Ethan who was playing with his toys. At the time, Ethan was very protective of his things and pushed Sam down the steep stairs. Sam rolled all the way to the bottom lodging his head in that narrow gap at the bottom. Connie came running after hearing him fall and found Sam in a very awkward position. At first she thought he’d broken his neck but thankfully he was okay.

When she was younger, the elderly lady (I wish I’d asked her name) ran the bar at Kinsella, the town a few kilometres down the road. She told us she moved to Viking in 1990. There were four other elderly ladies sipping tea in the shop who she said were all born in the town. These folks, the town of Viking, and the bar in Kinsella (now closed) are becoming a scarcity. Understandable but kind of sad.

Our next stop was Wainwright, home to Canada’s largest buffalo statue and the buffalo capital of Canada.

We drove to see the memorial clock built in 1925 and located downtown. Unfortunately the clock and area were cordoned off for repairs. The clock survived a devastating fire that burned the town in 1929. It is being celebrated this year, its centennial, for standing the test of time (pardon the pun).

We arrived at our destination, North Battleford Saskatchewan around 1pm. After setting up and having a lite lunch, we toured the North Battleford Western Development Museum. It has exhibits inside and out and we highly recommend a visit should you ever pass this way.

In 1928, the grain elevator above was built in 3 weeks with 18 men and it operated for 62 years. I can’t imagine a feat like that being repeated today. It would be over-engineered, over-regulated and likely be more than a year before it was used.

I thought the note on the blackboard of the little school house below was interesting. In 2020, I asked my mom if her parents, who lived on the prairies at the time, ever spoke about the Spanish flu. She didn’t recall them ever mentioning it.

Until next time, happy reading.

The Road Less Travelled

Berg Lake Trail, Mount Robson Provincial Park

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

Day Two

It poured rain most of the night at the North Thompson River campsite. I felt for the folks who were tenting. Fortunately for us, waking up damp/wet and cold is no longer an issue.

Our next drive to Mount Robson Meadows was relatively short, so we took the opportunity to snooze in and after emptying our mostly empty sanitation system we were on the road by 10am. A French-Canadian guy and two gals were emptying their rented camper in front of us, so I was able to steer them to the spot to refill using the clean water outlet rather than the sanitation rinse.

We saw some wildlife along the way. A few deer and a black bear cub, who darted across the road in front of us. I’ve been recording parts of our road journey with a GoPro but as luck would have it, the camera was turned off at the time the little bear appeared.

We arrived at Mount Robson Meadows right at check-in time (1pm). Fortunately, we were able to set up before the rain came. I tried to connect the Starlink Mini, but the campground is so treed there was not enough clear sky to obtain a signal; hence, why I didn’t post the last two nights.

We stayed inside our trailer until the rain eased a bit then walked down to the visitor centre only to find it was closed. There was free WIFI though, so we texted a message to our kids telling them that all was well.

When we returned to our campsite, the rain had stopped so we had dinner and sat down to read and cozy up with a cup of hot tea. Suddenly, I heard someone playing a guitar and harmonica and looked to see it was a gentleman playing and singing in the campsite next to us. When he played and sang two of my favorite James Taylor songs, I said to Connie I think we need to go over there.

I went outside and gave him two thumbs up and the lady waved me over. The couple next to us, Sue and Bob, had just met Cliff the musician that afternoon. After chatting a bit, he asked them if they’d like to listen to some live music over a campfire that evening. Then we crashed their party.

Bob is a retired GM mechanic, and I was impressed to learn his pickup has 250K kilometers on it. John, if you are reading this, yes, I know it’s a GM. Turns out that Sue and I both retired from Interior Health. She still works a few shifts in the ER at Royal Inland Hospital. She said, “you kind of look familiar what did you do?” I’m always reluctant to tell people that I’m a retired vice president, as I don’t want to come across high and mighty. I told her I was in administration. Later, Connie scolded me and said you shouldn’t be ashamed of your role. You did a lot of good in your job and you should be proud of it. I told Sue to say hi to Todd one of the ER physicians at RIH and she said she would text him later saying “hey, guess who I just chatted with?” It certainly is a small world.

Cliff was most interesting. He didn’t share very much about himself, but he did tell us he grew up on a dairy farm in California. At 13 years old his family sold the farm and after that he began playing guitar. Based on his ability, I’m fairly certain he dedicated countless hours to master his craft, something I’ve observed first hand living with Zach. It is true that mastery requires full commitment. As my grade 10 math teacher used to say to me: “practice, practice, practice Malcolm.”

Cliff now lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico and was traveling up to paddle the Bowron Lakes with his grandkids, 6 and 10 years of age. He had an amazing repertoire of songs some by artists I’d never heard of, including Bill Staines. During Covid Cliff taught himself to play the harmonica, and he used a neck holder so he could play the harmonica and strum his guitar simultaneously.

After listening to a few more songs, Connie and I went for a walk around the park. Soon after we ran into Ron from Ontario. He and his wife and friends were on their way to Dawson City, their trip of a lifetime. We told him about our trip as far as Watson Lake and shared stories about our kids and grandkids.

It was such a treat to be in the middle of nature, no cell service, no internet, just people to visit with…kind of like it was 40 years ago. I’m saddened to see people in our society move away from something truly special…taking an interest in and talking with people we don’t know. Everyone we meet has a story and most all of them are willing to share it with us. We just need to ask.

Day Three

Once again, it rained hard during the night. I was thankful to be cosy and warm in our RV queen sized bed.

On day two, I purchased a book titled The Journey. It is about the Overlanders who made their way from Fort Garry (near Winnipeg today) to the Cariboo in the mid-1800’s. As I lay listening to the rain, I thought how wimpy we are today. These pioneers spent days and sometimes weeks, walking in scorching heat one day, then sopping wet the next, tormented by clouds of flies and mosquitoes as they made their way across the prairies, through the Rockies, and down the North Thompson River valley before arriving in Kamloops.

The pounding rain eventually stopped and we awoke to a mix of sun and clouds with the odd shower. Mid morning we decided to go for a bike ride and made our way to the Berg Lake Trailhead. It was there we discovered the trail had just reopened after a few years of closure due to flooding and rock slides. There were at least 40 people about to embark on their day long journey to the beautiful glacier fed lake. We checked the signs and confirmed that we could ride our bikes as far as Kinney Lake, about 5K but steep at times. Connie said she was game so we headed off.

As we climbed the hills we passed about 30 additional hikers and one lady called out, “I have a special name for you e-bikers!” We laughed and kept climbing. We had hiked the trail twice previously but personally I recommend e-biking it! The scenery is breathtaking on the way up but especially once you reach Kinney Lake.

Kinney Lake, Mount Robson Provincial Park

On the way back down, we stopped and chatted with a couple from Ontario. They were on their way to the west coast by RV and stopped to do the Kinney Lake hike. We had passed them on the way up the hill and they were curious about our bikes. We also exchanged travel stories and debated which was the best route across the continent, via the USA or Canada. The trip down was uneventful thankfully and being on the bike made it much easier on Connie’s troubled ankle.

After a bite of lunch a short nap (2nd day in a row for me!), we went for another bike ride and scoped out the Robson Rivers Campground. To our surprise it has a large electrical and water section and the sites are less treed so the Starlink Mini might work there. Perhaps we will stay there next time.

Day Four

We woke early Sunday morning, had a quick breakfast, brewed coffee to go and were on the road by 730am. The climb out of Mount Robson Meadows doesn’t appear to be much but we noticed it pulling the trailer and of course via the fuel gauge.

As we drove along side Moose Lake, the GoPro was on record as I’d hoped we would see a moose and snap a photo/video to send our grandson, Boden. He is very interested in moose ever since he saw one the first night he moved into his new house in Bathurst. He and his Mom and Dad live on five wooded acres and that first evening Bullwinkle dropped by to say hello. Sadly he hasn’t returned again.

Shortly after we entered Jasper National Park, we saw a group of cars stopped on both sides of the road. I quickly switched on the GoPro and hit record. Two bears were feasting on berries on the side of the road. One was blond and the other black. Connie snapped a quick photo (below) as we drove past.

As we drove by the town of Jasper, we saw the devastation of last year’s forest fire. Today the underbrush was green and lush. I’m always in awe when I see how nature regenerates a forest after a fire. The campgrounds were all full, so the fire certainly hasn’t dampened tourism.

At noon we stopped in Edson to purchase a few groceries and by mid afternoon, we arrived at Barr Estate Winery, which is located just south of Edmonton. It is a Harvest Host stop and a 20 acre farm and fruit winery. Connie and I aren’t much for fruit wine but we did a tasting and purchased one bottle of each (rhubarb, strawberry rhubarb, raspberry and a sour cherry port). I think the port will go very nicely poured over a bowl of Håagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream.

Until next time, happy reading.