This morning’s wake up call was thunder. The four of us shot out of bed and packed up camp, hooked up the trailers, and headed out of the dirty park in 20 minutes flat – a trip record by at least half. None of us wanted to pack up a wet tent.
We hit the local Tim Horton’s along with the rain. We went inside to linger over coffee and let the rain blow by. The main clouds had passed, but the roads were wet and the skies were still gray. We pulled on our rain gear and hit the Yellowhead Highway.
Saskatchewan was full of yellow fields. What is that? Mustard? Golden rod? Isn’t golden rod, well, golden? This is bright yellow. What would they do with that much golden rod? What do you do with any golden rod at all? But someone has to grow mustard. I never see mustard in the States. What is that? Hmmm. Some fields are green. Do they cut off the yellow tops when they reap it, then bale the green stalks later? What is that?
It poured. We soaked it up like sponges. Cold, miserable sponges. When we could barely take it anymore, the rain abated and the temperature rose about 10 degrees. We stopped for lunch at a curb outside a local bar (the photo is me and my whitey whiteness trying to look all gangsta outside the bar -- we all cracked up moments later.), then decided to pound out some more miles, since all the towns were tiny and did not support the hospitality industry.
It was amusing to see that this province was trying so hard to encourage tourism. Each little spot on the map had a big sign on the outskirts describing the tourist attraction(s) close at hand. It was an excellent attempt to sell nothing. Almost every town had a “Western Development Museum.” Yawn. These provinces didn’t stand a chance compared with the glorious beauty of British Columbia.
K and I couldn’t do it anymore. We could not camp again when we were soaked. We insisted on a hotel night, so Ramada Inn it was. Wonderfully, right across the parking lot was a Robin’s Donuts. We had never heard of it, but the hotel clerk said it was a great place to eat. She said they had a lot more than doughnuts and recommended the dry ribs.
After luxurious showers with soft, fluffy towels (not the backpacker quick-dry squares of semi-perpetually damp microfiber the four of us use at campsites), we walked across to check out their menu. Our big meal out, and I ordered a ham and cheese sub. Stupid is as stupid does. We have lunchmeat sandwiches about every day, and I order ham.
We hit the local Tim Horton’s along with the rain. We went inside to linger over coffee and let the rain blow by. The main clouds had passed, but the roads were wet and the skies were still gray. We pulled on our rain gear and hit the Yellowhead Highway.
Saskatchewan was full of yellow fields. What is that? Mustard? Golden rod? Isn’t golden rod, well, golden? This is bright yellow. What would they do with that much golden rod? What do you do with any golden rod at all? But someone has to grow mustard. I never see mustard in the States. What is that? Hmmm. Some fields are green. Do they cut off the yellow tops when they reap it, then bale the green stalks later? What is that?
It poured. We soaked it up like sponges. Cold, miserable sponges. When we could barely take it anymore, the rain abated and the temperature rose about 10 degrees. We stopped for lunch at a curb outside a local bar (the photo is me and my whitey whiteness trying to look all gangsta outside the bar -- we all cracked up moments later.), then decided to pound out some more miles, since all the towns were tiny and did not support the hospitality industry.
It was amusing to see that this province was trying so hard to encourage tourism. Each little spot on the map had a big sign on the outskirts describing the tourist attraction(s) close at hand. It was an excellent attempt to sell nothing. Almost every town had a “Western Development Museum.” Yawn. These provinces didn’t stand a chance compared with the glorious beauty of British Columbia.
K and I couldn’t do it anymore. We could not camp again when we were soaked. We insisted on a hotel night, so Ramada Inn it was. Wonderfully, right across the parking lot was a Robin’s Donuts. We had never heard of it, but the hotel clerk said it was a great place to eat. She said they had a lot more than doughnuts and recommended the dry ribs.
After luxurious showers with soft, fluffy towels (not the backpacker quick-dry squares of semi-perpetually damp microfiber the four of us use at campsites), we walked across to check out their menu. Our big meal out, and I ordered a ham and cheese sub. Stupid is as stupid does. We have lunchmeat sandwiches about every day, and I order ham.
S ordered wings. L and K decided to split an order of the highly acclaimed dry ribs. When the order was ready, L and K opened the box to look at the ribs. They were small, pan fried chunks of unidentifiable meat. “These are ribs?” L asked.
“Yes, dry ribs,” the counter clerk answered.
“But they don’t have bones.” L pressed.
“But they’re really good,” the clerk countered.
They were not, in fact, really good. They were not, as far as any of us could tell, ribs. I felt better about my ham and cheese sub selection.
Daily Recap: 380 miles, Province: Still Saskatchewan (Yorkton)
“Yes, dry ribs,” the counter clerk answered.
“But they don’t have bones.” L pressed.
“But they’re really good,” the clerk countered.
They were not, in fact, really good. They were not, as far as any of us could tell, ribs. I felt better about my ham and cheese sub selection.
Daily Recap: 380 miles, Province: Still Saskatchewan (Yorkton)
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It doesn't matter that there was lunch meat in the cooler. When you are eating out and you're not sure about the cuisine listed on the menu, ham is a pretty safe bet. How badly can they mess up ham?
ReplyDeleteYou are kin to Notorious 3Ld, so the pic is appropriate. I'm still mooning over the bear pics, and I can't remember feeling more jealous than this in my life. Y'all are just too cool.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I must rebut the honorable Momma. You can do some horrifying things to ham. Just ponder on it for a while, and I think you will agree.
Stay safe, we can't wait to see you post-adventure!
So glad that you did this blog for all of us at home to enjoy.
ReplyDeleteBArb