Rocky Mountain High

Hallowe’en, 2010

Have to remember that food cooks differently at 7000 ft than it does at sea level, for example potatoes take longer to bake and water boils at a lower temperature. Still on the subject of cooking did you know that submariners cook with peanut oil because it has the highest smoke/flash point of any vegetable oil? Just had my first al fresco dinner at my picnic table in some time. Someone up the line must be getting their cistern filled, I’ve seen the water truck go by twice. While I was out made a campfire for one with ATD with pine cones—quick, fast, and over. Lots of fuel about, I’m camped in a pine grove. One more food item comes to mind. On a state visit to Italy the Queen let it be known she wanted no state dinners with garlic or runny tomato sauce on the menu—just about sums up a majority of popular Italian cuisine.

After a week being blown around and frosted in Cheyenne I finally made a break for it on Friday. Ironic that having gained 1000 ft in elevation I’ve had three warm nights here. Here being Mountaindale Resort Southwest of Colorado Springs, Colorado. Spent a very quiet week in Cheyenne. With heavy rains, plunging temperature, and gusting winds that rocked my world I stuck close to home. I finally got out on Thursday to shop at King Sooper where the staff were helpful and the prices economical. Filled at their gas bar for $2.49. The drive down to Denver placed me in more traffic than I’ve seen since I left Toronto. The highway through downtown bends around Mile High Stadium. Thirty-two miles inside the Colorado Border the Welcome Centre Staff greeted me at the door and were quite helpful. They also make good coffee.

My next stop was a pull-out overlooking the Airforce Academy in Colorado Springs with Pikes Peak in the background. Including the underground NORAD installation there are five major military bases hereabouts. In tourist season it seems things get crowded, I passed numerous LCD signs along the highway that would indicate how many hours and minutes to the next interchanges. Finding my way among the myriad new highways built since my GPS was encoded took some doing but I was glad to find my intended campground in a quiet canyon up among the hills surrounded by pine forests. After some of the places I’ve stayed at lately I’m happy to report that this one is a class act. Somehow I did not find it good form that after being introduced to the big screen TV and the other joys of the common room I found them dismantled for rug cleaning next day.

I’ve been out for a couple hikes among the hills watching out for prickly pear cactus which seem to be abundant here. Today I also spent a bit of time cleaning up my RV and finding nooks to store things. It may be Hallowe’en Night here but you’d never know it. I was just out for a look up at the sky. There are just enough lights about the campground, traffic, clouds, and mountains to make star identification difficult. It’s the dark of the moon so the milky way should be visible but the only constellations I’m certain I identified were Cassiopeia, Cygnus-the swan, and the summer triangle—Altair, Deneb, and Vega. I think I found Polaris but for all its significance it is not among the brightest stars in the sky and the rest of the Little Dipper fades away, the Big Dipper is too low in the sky to be seen here.

On Monday November 1st set out for Montrose Colorado heading down Hwy 115 to 50. After gassing up at the corner headed over to Cañon City where I stopped for groceries at Safeway and made the fateful decision to get a flu shot. The drive west takes one to the top of Monarch Pass 11,312 ft. As always it’s slow going on the up side and low gear and brakes on the downside. I saw one scary looking runaway lane complete with 10 sets of double bumpers. Paused for a drive up the mountain to the Visitors Centre at Black Canyon of the Gunnison to pick up some information. Spent the next day recuperating. Black Canon with its sheer 2000 ft black gneiss walls leading to a canyon as narrow as 40 ft is a sight that deserves the word awesome. Going for a 3-mile hike at 8500 ft may not have been the smartest thing I’ve ever done. The east portal road takes one down to the level of the Gunnison River but it involves a 2 mile drive on a road with a 16% grade, scary stuff and would be hard on the gas tank getting back up. I picked an alternate campsite for m last night in town.

Thursday, November 4th

At 6000 ft elevation Montrose is surrounded by mountains on all sides. Heading south on 550 on follows the Uncompahgre River as the forested peaks close in forming a narrow canyon and the outcroppings and rock cuts vividly demonstrate why these are the red mountains. Beyond the snow-capped treeless heights loom higher and higher in the distance. For the first thirty miles the road tends steadily downward until one reaches Ouray with its hot spring channelled into steaming pools beside the highway. At the south end of town the main street business section rises steeply toward the mountain. At the end of that block the switchbacks begin broken after about 5 by a look-off pullout that affords a panoramic view to the north. From that point the road is one continuous series of switchbacks and hairpin curves at either end with no letup in the steep uphill climb. Rock cuts barely wide enough for two lanes of traffic see drop-offs of up to 1500 ft at the very edge of the outside paved lane with no guard rails. This continues with posted speed limits as low as 10 miles per hour until one finally reaches a sign marking the downhill grade at 13,000 ft. Did you hear my ears pop?

At 9000 ft the mining town of Silverton sits in a valley among the surrounding heights. The remains of an old silver mine sit beside the highway. Before one finally reaches the straightaway just north of Durango there are two more passes 11,000 ft and 9000 ft. The million dollar highway was paved with gold ore considered at the time not worth refining. Turning right HWY 190 takes on west to Mancos and Mesa Verde National Park. Mancos is a quaint compact little town just east of the park. I parked in front of the Opera House where Thursday Night Michael Martin Murphey of Wildfire fame was to perform. I had fun wandering the art galleries, getting lunch beside the creek at the local bakery, and admiring the local architecture.

My pleasure was short-lived when I reached the campground where I planned to spend the next couple days and discovered that despite its online website, the guide books, and the local tourist board’s records the place was closed. The agent at the entrance to the National Park across the road couldn’t have been less helpful. Drove back to Mancos and found a Wi-Fi signal and discovered the possibility of open campgrounds in Cortez to the west. Fifteen miles later pulled into town to find the seediest looking hole in the wall parking lot beside a noisy garage I’ve ever seen. The electrical hookups actually used 30 amp fuses, the Wi-Fi didn’t work, and backing into many sites was not possible for one reason or another. I’ve come to discover that Pass Port America is synonymous with dump. After further looking and a brief search found Sundance RV Park more to my liking but by now I was ready to give up on the area and head south.

Friday, November 5th

Spent the day wandering around my immediate neighbourhood here in Cortez. Stopped at the Colorado Welcome Centre in town. Saturday morning backtracked to Mesa Verde National Park and met a more pleasant mannered ranger at the gate. Just getting there is part of the adventure of Mesa Verde; the museum and cliff dwellings are 25 miles from the entrance gate and since they sit at 8500 ft most of that drive is uphill, at least here there were guard rails. So little is known about these cliff-dwellings abandoned in 1250 and not rediscovered until ranchers searching for lost cattle stumbled upon them in 1888. Scrambling down metal and sandstone steps one wonders what drove 150 people to live in such close quarters under a rock overhang accessible only by ladders and hand and footholds carved in the rock. Driven from their homes it is suspected by drought they left behind everything they couldn’t carry; the tragedy is that so much was lost and damaged before the area was protected by park status. Most of the access points and park buildings were built in the thirties by the Civilian Conservation Corps, the CCC boys. I was fascinated to see the combination locks in the lock box lobby of the Park Post Office. The south-west style of building common to that era was interesting to see. On leaving I made the climb to the highest point in the park beside the ground-level fire tower to see the view.

Heading South

After leaving Valleyview in the Peace River District headed south to stay at a campground on the Athabasca River beside the highway in Whitecourt, the principal city before you reach Edmonton. Got gasoline at ESSO and shopped at IGA. The grocery store was well-stocked but nothing was very fresh as little is grown locally. Sagitawah RV Park was nearly fully booked with oil patch workers.

On Thursday, October seventh I continued south taking the Cowboy Highway recently celebrated in song by Corb Lund for the CBC. Highway 22 has been re-aligned and recently paved making it a dart straight roadway that lacks any opportunity to pull off and admire the Rocky Mountain Foothills it gives access to. Upon reaching Rocky Mountain House I encountered a horror of highway construction that continued as I drove east toward Red Deer. That great navigator and cartographer David Thompson would have had a hard time finding the remains of the Hudsons Bay Post at which he spent two winters. I managed to find the Visitor’s Centre/Museum and discovered its agents out to lunch. Sylvan Lake will be forever etched in my mind for the construction equipment and broken roads I had to maneuver downtown and the raised intersections along Lakeshore Dr.

For the next week I marked time at Ol MacDonalds Resort on Buffalo Lake north of Stettler.  In the shape of an upside-down Buffalo the lake provides sandy beaches for several parks. A going concern in summer this place was shut down and the water turned off save for the electricity and on again/off again Wi-Fi. With no one else there for most of the time but the caretakers I enjoyed serenity and the howl of the coyotes at night. Spent a couple nights up by the beach and caught some beautiful shots and a visit from a pileated woodpecker. I wish I could say I had an opportunity to view the aurora but the bright lights of Edmonton to the North, Red Deer to the West, and powerful yard light to the east made that impossible.

Driving south from Red Deer I stopped at the Alberta Motor Association in Calgary to arrange Emergency Medical Coverage for the winter and headed south to Lethbrige. Henderson Lake Campground is located in the middle of a series of civic parks and next door to the Exhibition Grounds. On Saturday the weekly Farmer’s Market was overrun with electoral hopefuls vying for election, 3 for the position of mayor and 30 for 8 aldermanic seats. Loads of Brussels sprout trees and pumpkins on offer along with the usual baked goods, Elk and Buffalo Jerky, sausages, Mennonites and Hutterites in flowing beards, preserves, handmade soaps, and other handicrafts. Mead I know but alfalfa wine?

Sunday Morning made church at Immanuel Lutheran located in the new community located in an Oxbow of Oldman River. After service I headed off to the border at Coutts/Sweetgrass. After a 45 minute line-up I was asked to surrender my tomatoes. Three hour waits are not unheard of and three small tomatoes were a minor inconvenience compared to what might have been. That night Dick’s RV Park was located in a triangle of land between the Missouri River, Hwy 15, and the railway tracks with airport across the highway. At least the washroom across from my site was open.

Monday night in Billings Montana the water was shut down along with everything else but the hydro. Remind me that it is not a good idea to drive 300 miles in one day--not for me in any case. Following my GPS I headed down I-15 past Helena and the road to Missoula thinking the while of Norman MacLean and A River Runs Through It. Near the town of Cascade I made a stop at a pullout and overlook marking the Saint Peter’s Mission home for fourteen years to one Louis Riel who taught there before returning for the fateful rebellion of 1874. Later at the interchange with Hwy 90 another overlook gave views of Butte, ostensibly underlain by 10,000 miles of mine shafts which yielded millions of tons of gold, silver, lead and other minerals. Opposite on the heights stands a White Madonna and her chapel. Heading east most roads south lead to Yellowstone National Park but alas the place is largely closed at this point in the season. Yellowstone River RV Park was a peaceful respite from the highway and a walk to the river provided views of the rocky outcrops opposite.

On Wednesday October 20th drove uptown to shop at Albertsons passing the Women’s Prison, Police Station, Probation Service, and City Hall on the way. After a welter of one-way streets even my GPS couldn’t navigate made it to the Flying J Truckstop for gasoline and propane. Gas varies widely in price it seems. Heading south into Wyoming there is little to relieve the eye save for yellow-brown grass, the yellow leaves of the poplars near creeks and streams, purple sagebush, and blue-grey rocky outcrops. With a base of largely sandy soil there are so many bumps and depressions in the highway they don’t bother to mark them. The city of Casper, Wyoming is so-named after a Lieutenant Caspar because a city clerk couldn’t spell. The Fort Caspar RV Park occasioned my rant over Wi-Fi-Rv and with its ill-natured revolting signs made me come to describe the experience as mean-spirited. It was one place I was happy to leave.

The nearby National Historic Trail Centre was the one place the gal at the Wyoming Welcome Centre told me I had to see, the free coffee there was poured down the water fountain as undrinkable. After a multi-faceted audio-visual presentation utlilizing covered wagons and even the nose of a train the exhibits circled the theatre giving one a chance to cross the Platte River in a covered wagon as it jolted with the crossing displayed on a screen in front of one. A treadmill and handcart gave one the opportunity to experience what it was like to pull one 16 hours a day for 2000 miles--too slow or fast and you’ll never make it, just right was a gruelling effort. Even after two years of retirement my hackles still raise at talk of the pony express. The coming of the railroad finally ended the overland migrations of nearly half a million settlers. Outside overlooking the Platte River Crossing Elk fed on the prairie grass.

An hour-long drive over more undulating highway got me to the town of Glendo which owes its existance to coal and the reservoire created by damming the Platte River and the State Park which surrounds it. The privately owned RV Park is on a side-hill west of the ‘lake’ and still under construction. The owner’s welcoming attitude was in complete contrast to my last experience. I’d have glady stayed longer but for the unrelenting coal train traffic and sirens plus the threat of an approaching fall storm barrelling up the Pacific West Coast. I did not relish riding out a storm on that exposed side-hill.

Driving along Interstate 25 past historic Fort Laramie in a modern automobile may not equate with the covered wagon train experience but the scenery is little changed since their day. Cheyenne, the capitol of Wyoming is located on the Colorado Border with government and the military its principal employers. In summer wild-west shoot-outs are still staged for the benefit of tourists. Nearby Fort Laramie was the site of the Matthew Shepard fatal gay-bashing. If one were to be seeking red-necks and trailer-park trash this would seem to be a good place to look. How can 5 people live in one 35-foot trailer? The trailing vines covering the mini-golf fairways are indicative of the overall decrepitude of the parks here but any port in a storm. I didn’t know people still used those continuous-roll hand towel systems any more.

Described as a fall storm the Pacific West-Coast is being deluged by 5 inches of rain followed by high winds and a deep freeze. With the threat of heavy rain and thunderstorms, winds gusting to 70 miles an hour, a cold snap and possible snow I deemed it prudent to stay put until the storm blew past. Over the past weekend I was beginning to wonder if I’d panicked; rain in any amount is an event around here but the thundershowers failed to materialize and when this morning dawned with the temperature at 54º F it gave me pause. However during the day the wind has picked up and the thermometer has been steadily dropping. Around 3 the first of two snow squalls hit followed by a period of sleet around supper time. Several gusts of wind have made it feel like someone was outside rocking my van. South of me at higher elevations the conditons are move severe so I feel vindicated.

Reminder to self, at 6062 feet it takes longer to boil spaghetti then at sea level.

Time for a Rant

“Middle age is when you choose your cereal for the fiber, not the toy.”

Since October Sixth I’ve been on the road and often with less than optimal or no Wi-Fi access so I’ve some catching up to do. I’ll begin with a few more observations.

From Stuart McLean on the Vinyl Cafe I learn that the lobster outlet in Robert L Standfield International Airport, (Halifax), has been using one-pound packages of frozen peas to keep their lobsters fresh since security concerns led to the banning of gel-packs from onboard hand-luggage.

Jean Auel's sixth book in the Earth Children Series The Land of Painted Caves comes out March 29, 2011. The last book in the series appeared in 2005.

Whether it be exposure to drugs and hormones in our food and environment or other causes boys are reaching puberty at an ever younger age and this may be endangering the future of the boy soprano voice and repetoire as boy's voices are maturing before the boys have the opportunity to learn sufficient musical skills to sing the parts. Choirs such as that at Saint John’s College Cambridge are becoming endangered entities. In Renaissance times the problem was solved by creating castrati choirs but no one is suggesting that as a solution today.

Re-useable grocery bags need to be washed or they may spread disease. Something that until the bags got to be disgusting never occurred to this bachelor.

Largest great white shark caught in a fishing weir off the New Brunswick coast.

Since Bell Canada’s Sympatico began rejected G-mail I have had to switch my outgoing E-mail Server to Yahoo. Just what kind of internet warfare is involved there I’m not sure but as someone sending mail on the road I have no option but to use an online server.

Do I attract rain? Not that I’d admit but I seem to end up in locations where abnormal amounts tend to occur. There was my trip a year ago last spring up the Pacific Coast Highway; my visit to Newfoundland this spring for the coldest, wettest seaon on record; and this fall the wonder of seeing water laying in the fields in the semi-arid Palliser Triangle. I now find myself in the near desert region of Wyoming/Colorado amid rain, thunder and winds. 

One more. Be it resolved that I will never again enter a campground that utilizes Wi-Fi-RV Internet Service. A more niggardly enterprise you never want to meet. They charge $5.95 AMD for 75 MB of bandwidth, for the record that barely allows me to download my E-mail after I’ve been off-line for a day’s driving.

Farming in Alberta

A large farm in Alberta is over 20 square miles or 12,800 acres, a small farm is 5 square miles; a quarter-section is 4-40 acre fields a standard farming unit here. A small combine has a 20-25-ft cutter bar and a large one costs more than most people will earn in their lifetimes. Small wonder most farms not owned by the fabulously wealthy or agribusiness operate on bank debt. Consequently it is not uncommon for farmers to supplement their farm income with work of some kind off the farm. Farming is a dedication, a way of life, not necessarily a means of making a living.

The stories of mental collapse, marriage break-down and suicide I’ve heard give a lie to the fantasy city folk have of faming being a laid-back, stress-free lifestyle. Even if drought prevents your crop from growing the weeds always seem to thrive and if the locust strike they’ll eat everything green in sight. The hazards inherent in using much of the machinery of modern farming are manifold, witness the eighty-year-old who spent 18 hours suspended upside-down in his combine when he attempted a repair. The amount of equipment needed to manage even a small-scale farm is astounding and the maintenance and repairs it requires call for a remarkable set of skills. The number of chemicals used on modern farms and the casualness with which they are handled makes me shake my head. Even the most innocuous are frought with perils. The amount of hydraulic fluids, transmission oils, and motor oils that get spilled and permanently polute the soil frightens me.

The road apples that were the by-product of a horse’s fuel consumption actually fertilized the soil, the black soot that spews out of a diesel tractor’s pipe is another matter and the operator sits in an air-conditioned cab lest the noise impair his hearing and dust get in his eyes. The chemicals sprayed on crops to fight weeds and insect pests render the soil incapable of self-fertilizing. The marketing of grains and seed crops by large-scale feed and grain elevators has become as capricious and unstable as the stock market. The owners of these operations owe their allegiance to the stockholders not the farmers who provide their product. The price offered the farmer often does not cover the cost of seeding, spraying, and harvesting that crop. There is an irony in the fact that pony oats--race horse oats--has greater value than that for human consumption.

Oil is king and the law is written so that land owners do not have control over the oil rights under the soil they farm. So-called land men negotiate lease arrangements with these landowners but in the end the law is stacked in favour of the oil barons. I wouldn’t want an oil well and the disruption it brings on my farm. The threat posed by sour gas wells adds an entirely extra dimension of risk to the equation. Even in the fertile Peace River District moisture or its lack can be a problem. Even the location of a lake can influence whether your field or one 10 miles down the road gets rain.

Cattle here are still grazed on Community Pasture with large herds managed by summer wranglers; in the fall they are brought in to be sorted and hauled in cattle trailers 50 to a two storey load. Coyotes and wolves pose dangers to young cattle along with any number of diseases and ailments. Even the angle of the sun at this northern latitude poses a risk of eye cancer.

Going to town here for anything not stocked in a local store means a 60 mile drive to Grand Prairie, the major market town for the entire district. Where you take your grain to market depends on where the rail lines were situated. Grain samples are tendered to various agencies to see how it tests and who will offer the best price and decisions have to be made, do I sell my grain now and pay off the bank or do I wait til later in hopes that the price will rise. Do I sell now or play the futures market. The price we pay for food does not reflect the cost of actually growing it and the various support programs offered by government are fraught with forms, paperwork, and deadlines. Should I buy crop insurance, drought insurance, hale insurance; will the pay-off or risk justify the cost.

Grains stored in large bins need to have an ideal moisture content or they will generate heat, spoil, and even spontaneously combust. Therefore combining may not commence until the field is sufficiently ripe and mature and the morning dew has dried. Accordingly operations rarely begin before noon and may continue well after midnight if the fields remain dry by floodlight. Picking up rocks, startling resting geese, or sleeping deer or elk are all harvesting hazards. Keeping combines and augers operational is a matter of constant diligence and maintenance and still breakdowns occur. What makes an oil filter worth $70 on a tractor that needs 3 hydraulic filters? And I thought $100 was a lot for my RV’s oil change. I was shocked to learn that even rotting wheat is processed for feed pellets.

Playing Catchup on the Road

Survived all those doctor appointments and a final weekend of eyedrops. By the time I finally got on the road at 5 AM Wednesday, September 8th I was more than eager to get off. My first surprise was the fact that the gas station on Oakville’s busiest highway closes nights. Traffic on 403, 401 and 400 was busy but moved at the limit. The headlights from the river of cars coming down 400 toward Toronto even at that hour was blinding. Just before dawn it started raining near Barrie. Made a stop at the Sudbury Travel Centre to pick their brains about highways west. Highway 69 gave way to 17 West. The stretch north of Lake Huron passes through the La Cloche Mountains with their white quartzite and pink granite. Stopped at a picnic site near Thessalon for lunch. Made Sault Ste Marie just as my display indicated an empty gas tank. The Finnish family who owned the Sault KOA retired and sold to a couple from Georgetown. Spent a quiet layover while I recovered.

On Friday the 10th I set out from the Sault for Thunder Bay. That stretch of highway traverses some of the most scenic vistas east of the Rockies. At the Algoma Trading Post, one of many such agglomerations along this highway, I stopped and picked up at last a pair of rubber sandals on an end of season table and a locally assembled dream catcher. I made the whimsical decision to acquire a dream catcher over a year ago but until this point all that I had seen bore the mark of having been Made in Taiwan. Were I a more ‘crafty’ person I should have assembled my own but dyed feathers, coloured beads, and plastic rings somehow detract from what should be a rustic look. Whether by mystic intervention or the power of suggestion I have had no nightmares since I hung it above my bed. Drove into Wawa to stop at Foodland for store baked and custom sliced raisin and cheese bread plus some coffee cream and had lunch while I was stopped. Highway construction became a major pain once I approached Thunder Bay and the stretch west of town saw the Trans Canada Highway reduced to gravel road. When I finally caught sight of the campground sign I was more than thankful to pull in.

That campsite near Kakabaka Falls had a healthy crop of Amanita Muscaria, Fly Agarics, mushrooms growing beside my RV. There was a crop of mushrooms at my last site as well but these were 6 inches across and the variety once favoured by hippies for the purpose of getting ‘high’. Spent another day resting while I looked out at thundershowers that passed in bands all day. Sunday morning I set out along the lonely stretch of highway headed west through granite and black spruce. Aside from a few rock cuts there is little to relieve the eye as the miles click by. Near Ignace I stopped at a quiet picnic rest stop where a young native couple were having lunch. The ‘decorations’ in the vault toilet were somewhat off-putting. As luck would have it I passed a beautiful rest area beside a small lake twenty minutes later. After passing through the middle of Dryden completed the drive to Kenora.

Drove into and out of town to visit Casey’s just west of Husky the Muskie. This meal did not live up to the memory of the last one I had there. Over-cooked pasta and soggy apple crisp are not a turn-on but at least I didn’t have to cook it or clean up after. Found the town campground on the shores of Lake of the Woods and settled in for the night after a walk about the park. I felt I deserved the rest.

Monday morning got gas--full service and expensive--before setting out for Brandon Manitoba. The stretch of highway to the border was repaved a year ago last spring. At the Manitoba Welcome Centre both the maps and the coffee are still free. The roads were another matter. From that point until I reached Brandon most of the highway was under construction. As soon as I resumed driving I hit a 14-km section of grooved pavement and even more later. The Winnipeg bypass is reduced to one lane in each direction and that at Portage La Prairie is closed entirely forcing one to drive through downtown. The rest area east of town was in such appalling condition I was moved to stop at the visitors centre I drove by in town and report it. Oakville Manitoba is just east of town as well. In the days before Postal Codes we handled quite a few pieces of their mail back home especially at Christmas. How can gasoline in Manitoba be 11¢ a litre cheaper than in Ontario?

After all that having reached my campground I drove another 10 miles through in-town construction rush hour traffic to get an oil change and sit in a waiting room. Sure hope synthetic oil is worth the price they charge for it. The rest of my two-day stay in Brandon involved quiet walks along the Assinoboine listening to the rattles of the Kingfishers by day and the call of a Great-Horned Owl by night along with the nightly fly-in of Canada Geese at dusk.

September 15th saw me heading west along the open prairie toward Regina on Highway ONE. The roads are straight with only the occasional gentle curve and flat save for almost imperceptible grades. It seems to take forever to reach the towering grain elevators and the only significant land-forms are the rare river valleys that cut a swarth across the landscape. When I finally reached Saskatoon Saskatchewan I discovered the address I had for Gordon Howe Campsite was that of city hall. The people at the grocery store I stopped at shortly after claimed no knowledge of the park only 5 miles distant so I had to find it on my own. It came complete with autographed photos of Mr. Elbow under glass. The heavily treed lots were nearby an elementary school and multiple sports stadia and parkland.

Before leaving Saskatoon got my water heater repaired and filled up my gas tank shaking my head at a sign down the highway that read 6¢ a litre cheaper. I counted myself fortunate there were no crosswinds during the next two days as I drove North-West across the prairies. At Lloydminster discovered activity in the Oil Sands has every possible living space including campgrounds filled to overloading. Learned in a town spanning the Saskatchewan/Alberta border businesses on the Saskatchewan side get to forgo provincial sales tax, the schools are Saskatchewan but the bars are all on the Ablerta side of town. Drove west of town to the hamlet of Vermillion and self-registered at the Provinical Park of the same name. The place had the water turned off but the 30 AMP power worked. The relocated Vermillion Train Station now acts as a cross country ski centre and nearby sits a forlorn caboose doing duty as the park library. Vermillion Lake is an impoundment water body.

After a quiet night without online access resumed driving making it past West Edmonton Mall without a second glance and on up Highway 43, the start of the Alaska Highway. After a stop at the Valleyview Visitor’s Centre drove into the farm to be greeted by Dozer, the Rottweiler.

County 'code of the west' includes manure warning

Last Updated: Monday, August 30, 2010 | 3:14 PM MT Comments14Recommend8

CBC News

Rural life in Clearwater County isn't all chirping birds, says the county manager. Would-be residents must be prepared for the sound of running combines at 2 a.m. and the smell of manure. (The Canadian Press)Living in cowboy country ain't as easy as it seems.
A new guide put out by Clearwater County, a vast rural area west of Red Deer, is meant to help people decide if they're up to the challenge.
"I think we have some deep roots within Clearwater County. You know, first, second and third generation farms, and they love that lifestyle and they want to preserve it as much as they can," Reeve Pat Alexander recently told CBC News.
The county's new "code of the west" warns the area can be dusty, it can stink like manure and that some farmers, like Alexander himself, will run their combines until 2 a.m.
The code cautions that most of the county's roads are unpaved and, in the winter, unplowed.
"There are things that take place in rural Alberta that have taken place for 25, 50 or 100 years and, you know, they will continue to take place," said Alexander.
"It's all part of being in rural Clearwater County."
The "code of the west" is a concept made famous by the prolific Old West novelist Zane Grey. The set of rules for living in cowboy country has been modernized a bit and adopted by a number of American communities and at least two in Alberta, Clearwater being the most recent.
County manager Ron Leaf said that while acreage owners have just as many rights as those in the agriculture industry, some people move out to Clearwater seeking an idyllic lifestyle — expecting "no noise, just [hearing] the birds."
"Really what the code is all about is here's what it's like to live in Clearwater County."
But Leaf said it's not meant to make people feel unwanted.
"We by no means want to discourage individuals. We very much are open and welcome people to come and live here," Leaf said.

Read more: http://www.cbc.ca/canada/calgary/story/2010/08/30/calgary-clearwater-county-rural-cowboy-code-west.html#ixzz0zYBaUl00

Obama endorses mosque near Ground Zero

Last Updated: Friday, August 13, 2010 | 9:53 PM ET Comments661Recommend191

The Associated Press

U.S. President Barack Obama supports the construction of a mosque being built two blocks from where nearly 3,000 people died in the World Trade Center towers on Sept. 11, 2001. (Mark Lennihan/Associated Press) U.S. President Barack Obama on Friday endorsed building a mosque near Ground Zero, saying the country's founding principles demanded no less.
"As a citizen, and as president, I believe that Muslims have the same right to practise their religion as anyone else in this country," Obama said, weighing in for the first time on the controversy.
"That includes the right to build a place of worship and a community centre on private property in lower Manhattan, in accordance with local laws and ordinances," he said. "This is America, and our commitment to religious freedom must be unshakable."
Obama made the comments at an annual dinner in the White House state dining room celebrating the Islamic holy month of Ramadan.
The White House had not previously taken a stand on the mosque, which would be part of a $100-million Islamic centre to be built in lower Manhattan, two blocks from where nearly 3,000 people perished when hijacked jets slammed into the World Trade Center towers on Sept. 11, 2001.
Press secretary Robert Gibbs had insisted it was a local matter.
The issue sparked debate around the country as top Republicans including Sarah Palin and Newt Gingrich announced their opposition.
While insisting that the place where the twin towers once stood was indeed "hallowed ground," Obama said that the proper way to honour it was to apply American values and show "a way of life that stands in stark contrast to the nihilism of those who attacked us on that September morning, and who continue to plot against us today."

Read more: http://www.cbc.ca/world/story/2010/08/13/mosque-obama-ground-zero.html#ixzz0z1iXpkRe\

 

Moslems may have the right to build this mosque but surely one may question the sensitivity and motivations behind this particular siting.

Federal funds for N.L. power unfair: Quebec

Last Updated: Friday, August 13, 2010 | 3:23 PM NT Comments171Recommend40

CBC News

Jean-Marc Fournier is Quebec's newly appointed justice minister. (CBC)A top Quebec politician says his province objects to Newfoundland and Labrador's application for federal money to help it transmit power from Labrador to Nova Scotia.
Quebec's newly appointed Justice Minister Jean-Marc Fournier says he wants every province treated equally. That's why his province wrote a letter to the prime minister objecting to the application.
"If Newfoundland and Labrador want to develop their energy we are happy with that, we just ask that it is done the same as with every other province," Fournier told Radio Canada.
He noted Quebec didn't receive federal money to build its hydroelectric power transmission system.
Newfoundland and Labrador and Nova Scotia submitted a request to the federal government in late June for federal infrastructure funding to defray the cost of a power line to Nova Scotia from Newfoundland. The line could potentially handle power generated from the proposed Lower Churchill hydroelectric megaproject in central Labrador.
On Thursday, N.L Premier Danny Williams called a news conference to speak out against what he described as "predatory" behaviour by Quebec
He accused Quebec of deliberately blocking the energy aspirations of Atlantic Canada by writing a complaint to Prime Minister Stephen Harper about the funding application from the two Atlantic provinces.
Williams said Newfoundland and Nova Scotia reject the suggestion that they're asking for an unfair subsidy.

Read more: http://www.cbc.ca/canada/newfoundland-labrador/story/2010/08/13/nl-quebec-fairness-813.html#ixzz0z1eZ0ly6

Is  Quebec afraid this might compromise their already unfair Churchill Falls Hydro Deal?

Antarctic Scotch to be tested, not tasted

Crate of more than 100-year-old Scotch found in explorer's hut

Last Updated: Friday, August 13, 2010 | 11:45 AM ET Comments68Recommend38

The Associated Press

A crate of Scotch that was trapped in Antarctic ice for a century was finally opened Friday — but the heritage dram won't be tasted by whisky lovers because it's being preserved for its historic significance.
One of crates of Scotch whisky is seen after being recovered by a team restoring an Antarctic hut used more than 100 years ago by famed polar explorer Ernest Shackleton. (Antarctic Heritage Trust/Associated Press) The crate, recovered from the Antarctic hut of renowned explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton after it was found there in 2006, has been thawed very slowly in recent weeks at the Canterbury Museum in Christchurch on New Zealand's South Island.
The crate was painstakingly opened to reveal 11 bottles of Mackinlay's Scotch whisky, wrapped in paper and straw to protect them from the rigours of a rough trip to Antarctica for Shackleton's 1907 Nimrod expedition.
Though the crate was frozen solid when it was retrieved earlier this year, the whisky inside could be heard sloshing around in the bottles. Antarctica's -30 C temperature was not enough to freeze the liquor, dating from 1896 or 1897 and described as being in remarkably good condition.
This Scotch is unlikely ever to be tasted, but master blenders will examine samples of it to see if they can replicate the brew. The original recipe for the Scotch no longer exists.

'I just looked at this [crate] and honestly, my heartbeat went up about three paces.'—Michael Milne, whisky lover

Once samples have been extracted and sent to Scottish distiller Whyte and Mackay, which took over Mackinlay's distillery many years ago, the 11 bottles will be returned to their home — under the floorboards of Shackleton's hut at Cape Royds on Ross Island, near Antarctica's McMurdo Sound.
Whisky lover Michael Milne, a Scot who runs the Whisky Galore liquor outlet in Christchurch, described the rare event as a great experience.
Polar explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton's base camp is pictured in Antarctica. Crates of Scotch whisky have been recovered by a team restoring an Antarctic hut used more than 100 years ago by Shackleton. (Antarctic Heritage Trust/Associated Press) "I just looked at this [crate] and honestly, my heartbeat went up about three paces. It was amazing," he said. "The box was like a pioneer's box with the wood and nails coming out," he said.
Although Milne said he'd give anything to have a taste of the whisky. "It is not going to happen and I am not going to get excited about it," he said. "But if there was ever an opportunity, it could be a wonderful one to have."
Nigel Watson, executive director of the Antarctic Heritage Trust, which is restoring the explorer's hut, said opening the crate was a delicate process.
The crate will remain in cold storage and each of the 11 bottles will be carefully assessed and conserved over the next few weeks. Some samples will be extracted, possibly using a syringe through the bottles' cork stoppers.

Read more: http://www.cbc.ca/consumer/story/2010/08/13/con-antarctic-scoth.html#ixzz0z1b6L3kz

Summer in the City

‘Summer in the City
Back of my neck gettin' dirty and gritty’

The roar of air conditioner compressors and fans competes with the background rumble of the city outside for supremacy. After a night when it barely cooled at mid-morning the thermometer is climbing rapidly toward 90+. Already this week there has been a smog advisory.

‘And I’m stuck in this city
Ain’t going nowhere’

Tomorrow I get driven to the Oakville Hospital, pick a number, and begin the waiting process all over again. In the meantime life goes on and I get myself sufficiently respectable to cross the street for bread, OJ, and cream for my coffee. It being the first of September and Labour Day Weekend approaching returning students are tying up our elevators with their futons and desks. Traffic on Trafalgar Rd is backed up all the way to the QEW  by construction but that doesn’t stop cars from careening around the corner onto my street.

Bread, how does a commercial bakery manage to burn a batch of bread and why was is shipped, Dempster’s should know better. Fortunately I found a loaf that wasn’t scorched. The 24-hour variety store has ‘Lots of Pulp’ orange juice and after some looking I find my Table Cream. The staff all seem to be young, squat, and middle European bappering away in some strange language. I pay for my  purchases and persuade the cashier to use my shopping bag and leave noting that Blockbuster now sports cross-hatched guards in all its windows and doors. The heat assails one the moment one exits cooled space. Litter mars the landscape straws lying in the grass and fast food napkins decorating the garden.

The heat pump above the building entrance still drips water right over the main entrance, inside the floor of the elevator looks like something out of a slum tenement. At the end of my hallway the fire exit sign still hasn’t had its burnt-out light replaced after almost a month.

‘I gotta to get out of this place
If it’s the last thing I ever do’