Home Sweet Home!

We thought the kids needed more time to clean up two months worth of mess, but in truth, Carmen, Steve and Kerby needed one more night to party hard in celebration of a major facelift to the front of our house which they had conspired to finish secretly in our absence. They fully deserved it: we were blown away! They had completely rebuilt the stair railings, removed the plywood porch surface and restored the old tounge-and-groove decking underneath; scraped, filled and painted all the trim, hung planters everywhere, repainted the benches, replaced the porch light and added a dimmer, hidden strip lights which bathe the stairs in a wonderful soft glow, and even revived the pond, which now has goldfish in it! The place looks terrific! The lawn is mowed, bushes are trimmed: we should go away again, although Carmen was a bit distressed to hear that we may just hang about all summer, now that the place looks so good...they obviously like having it to themselves, and it shows!

On re-entering B.C., it didn't take us long to realize, after almost 20,000k, that the scenery at home is as good as it gets, anywhere, and it was a fitting culmination to our journey to arrive home, at last, in paradise. It's great to be back!

Last Hope

Passed up Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo-Jump, as we had seen it on a previous trip; it's worth the short diversion, if you're ever in these parts. The wind farms in the foothills are impressive, though not nearly as extensive as the ones outside of Bakersfield CA. We didn't stop at the site of the Frank Slide either, due to the low cloud and rain, but I should have, as it was a model of that slide that I had made in college which landed my first job, and launched my career as a modelmaker. But I have no doubt that I'll make the pilgrimage one day; the scenery enroute is totally worth it.

The Crowsnest Pass was wet but not terribly wild, and the snow and rain stopped as we crested the summit.

We passed the weekend at Roger and Patricia's lovely lakeside home. Roger built it some 17 years ago, to sell for income, but somehow they just haven't been able to leave it. Thank goodness! Most of us can only ever dream of landing in such a place: a south-facing sandy beach, the clear waters of Kootenay Lake, upscale neighbours in architecturally-designed homes. They stuffed us with waffles and strawberries, chicken and coffee cake, and we drank beer on the lawn of their latest project home in Kaslo. I wish I had their energy! The grandkids arrived as we prepared to leave, and they settled into their comfortable routine; Patricia playing the cello, and Roger the dobro or whatever else he's into these days.

We looked around Nelson a bit, then headed for Hope, where we bedded down early. Carmen wanted 'a little more time' before we got home, for some reason. We are just a wee bit suspicious. But we had an astonishingly succulent lamb dinner at Papandreas Greek Taverna, next to our motel, and entertained ourselves well on our last night on the road.

Endless Prairie

Snow?

Apologies to any blog followers expecting updates: no wireless where we've stayed the past week, and not a whole lot to report anyway. Most of it was spent under the vast prairie sky, with old friends and family, eating, drinking, talking and laughing. The weather has finally turned 'Canadian', and while it's been generally comfortable, we've had a bit of everything, including snow today in Fort Macleod!

John and Dina hosted us for the weekend in Winnipeg, where we toured Fort Gary, saw pelicans on the Red River, ate the tenderest T-bones I've ever had, listened to some Jazz (including daughter Sarah (is there an 'h' in Sarah?) invoking Charlie Parker on her sax - very nice!) and talked til the wee smalls on every subject on earth. John gave me an impromptu 'writer's workshop', and allowed me a peek at his latest novel; that boy can sure spin a story!

Had a memorable Moose Jaw meal with the 'three sisters', last survivors of Robbi's dad's ten siblings, all born in a sod hut north of Yorkton, and tenaciously carrying that Ukrainian pioneer spirit into their late 80's & 90's. They go at each other something fierce! It's a riot. Thanks to Aunty Olga for putting us up, and putting up with us for 3 days.

Moose Jaw has a tiny, perfect library, with a classic marble foyer, set in a beautiful park in the middle of the city. It is, to my mind, a model of how all libraries should be. And it's not really tiny; I just like the way that sounded!

Helped 'rescue' a young mother, panicked and furiously trying to rip open the rear vent window of her van because her 5-year-old had locked the keys, and two babies, inside. I didn't bother asking her why her son had had the keys, but flagged down a passing RCMP for aid. I don't think she entirely appreciated the gesture. =)

Otherwise, it's just been driving, driving, driving. Thank God for cruise control!

Birds, real and imaginary

MiMiMiMiMiMiMiMi Minnesota Minnesota

Clear skies:

Colorful boats:

Quiet highways:

Pamela's Hair Salon - Brainerd:

How bank money is spent:



Drove the quiet back roads of Minnesota, up through the Mille Lacs area, where the shores are lined with cottages and boats, hoisted on lifts, presumably to protect from wave damage in the shallow edgewater. Imaginative windsock/kites, shaped like eagles and ospreys, flap realistically in the wind over some docks, to discourage nesting birds which are in abundance. Clouds of white flys swirled so thick in places that we daren't leave the car, but away from shore, the air was fresh, the sun warm, and the sky clear and blue. The world is at peace here. Had the best deal ever on a pork rib dinner in Brainerd, then visited some quilting stores, landing overnight in a very nice AmericInn in Crookston, in preparation for our second assault on the border tomorrow.

Indy rethink

Just watching the highlight video of the 500, and, you know, in the comfort of a nice motel room, and reduced to 12 mminutes, it's not bad! Linky:

http://www.indy500.com/videos/watch/1651-2009_Indianapolis_500_-_Race_Highlights

50 days!

Quincy downtown:

A Moffat house in Iowa City:

Corn to the horizon:

Can't hold a camera straight at all!!

Near Decorah:


Our route took us up the east shore of the Mississipi, quite rain-swollen and lapping at the low banks. There are many large and gorgeous estates facing the river, some for sale; tempting! The back roads pass through small towns, rich and poor, each with a radar trap for the unwary, the speed limits going up and down faster than the stock market. A passing farmer redirected us after we'd found ourselves running east when we thought we were headed north. An early Mormon settlement, Nuavoo, is in pristine condition, while some of the poorer towns are barely holding it together. One wonders how and why they exist.

We were treated to a wonderful dinner by friends Benn and Cel in their charming, eclectic and most comfortable home in Iowa City. Their laughter, warmth and generosity are a testament to the American spirit; without prying, you'd never guess how hard the depression has hit them. Benn's very spiritual too: he fixed my camera just by holding it! (Benn - we never got photos of you guys! Send some, please!) Toured some 'Moffat houses', quirky one-offs built without plans out of what-have-you, and quite 'collectable' hereabouts, then had a huge breakfast at Hamburg Inn No. 2, (another burger bar favored by Obama. And Clinton!) and reluctantly parted ways.

It's rained a bit, but The Weather Channel shows storms across the entire U.S., so we don't feel hard done by, and the break from the heat has been most welcome. We're leaving the cornfields behind, and headed into the sun again today, to explore the lakes of Minnesota.

Ah...that's better!

Taking side roads now that there are no deadlines pressing. So much more to see, and not much slower at 55mph. The car is quieter, radio and CD's clearer, sights more scenic. It's cooler, with the odd shower, but so humid that there are vapor trails inside the car, pouring out the vents!

We're bummed that, having committed to seeing Indy, we raced through or completely by-passed so much of the best countryside. Live and learn. We'll do Maine again one day, and spend a month there. Whatever, we're draining our bank account at an ambitious rate, and couldn't have held out much longer anyway, financially or physically: I've gone pear-shaped.

St. Louis' old suburbs are badly in need of rescue. There are literally miles of abandoned buildings, some architecturally interesting, being century-old brick, but now windowless, gutted and forlorn. No pictures, as they didn't look like safe neighbourhoods for sightseers, and the camera's acting up, mostly taking photos that look like they're melting, like this:




Downtown proper is clean and modern looking, with remnants of cobbled streets near the river, covered with silt from heavy rains. Busch stadium is quite beautiful, but I forgot to circle back for photos, and can't find a decent one online. Oh well, I only came to see the Arch, and it was very cool.

Stayed the night in Quincy, an old town on the decline, hotels empty. Ale and hearty chicken at a riverside bar, but the waitress wouldn't sell me the Bass glass for any price. No business instinct left, I guess.

Been there. Done that.

Well, that's over with. Heat, humidity and a hypnotic eeeeennyoww.... eeeeennnyoww...eeeennyowww of ugly cars flashing past, and I slept through the race not once, but twice!

6AM, 2 miles from IMS, traffic was at a standstill; 2 hrs to park. Track: impressively large, but size more annoyance than wonder. Parking's all to the north, as were our seats; 'will call' is at the very south; a 2 mile sprint for tickets & I was hot under more than the collar. Crawled to our seats by 8:30AM; stands empty. Sun: merciless; our battery-operated fans couldn't cope. Smart people were hiding below, drinking.

Pre-race entertainment was sparse: huge, precise marching bands played very early to 2 1/2 miles of bare aluminum. Why don't they save these for later?? The partyers trickled in; booze poured in: you can bring as much as you like to the stands. 3 historic race cars made a single lap. As did 33 'Princesses' in nice 'vettes. And truckloads of actual vets. No driver's parade though. Strange. 2 old B52s flew over. Invocations and anthems were delivered. Florence Henderson belted out a desperate vesion of 'America the Beautiful'. Jim Nabors did his usual; nice rich voice after all these years. Hoosiers cried. The stands filled.

Finally, after 4 1/2 hours in the sweltering heat, the race started, everyone lept to their feet, and we couldn't see a thing! Caution on the very first lap as Marco spun. Then round and round and round they went. Slowly at first, then faster, then slowly again. Some skidded along the wall in front of us, to loud cheers. One bounced off dramatically, ending out of sight a 1/4 mile down the track. But other than their incredible speed, there wasn't a lot to watch. I don't know what I was expecting, but somehow I thought this type of racing MUST be better live. It's actually better on TV, though not by much.

Of course, on TV you don't get to see the apoplectic 9-year-old in Danica garb, red-faced, on the very edge of a stroke, screaming and pointing wildly at her car, EVERY lap, enraged that she wasn't trying harder or something; bizarre! They get the fans going early here, I guess, which might explain why most around us were there for their 4th, 5th 16th or 32nd year. I can't think of a reason to go twice.

With Robbi and I both nodding off, and not wanting to battle 400,000 drunken fans on the highway (oh yes, the police were ready) we left the track at lap 120 of 200, hoping to catch the ending on TV. And it wasn't even on! So I showered, napped, had dinner, watched the Sunday funnies, and went to sleep, only to awake to find Robbi catching the replay. I really tried, but fell asleep again, waking near midnight to a tearful Helio, choking down the milk. Robbi was asleep, so I have no idea how he won; he hadn't led a lap all day. Maybe it was 'dramatic'.

Anyway, I'm going back to road-racing, where they brake, shift, steer and pass once in awhile. And the cars are often quite beautiful.

Why are we here?

Before:

After:

What we saw:

A typical race shot of cars going by:

A fan:

Race Day

My big day began at 1:10AM when the revellers down the hall poured out of the bar. With luck, the bastards'll all sleep in and get stuck in traffic. I don't know why they were leaving so early because I could hear the music booming well past 3:30. That and the indigestion I gave myself at the buffet meant little sleep, as I awoke at 4:44 after a very strange dream involving a HUGE technicolor swan with a heavy quilted cover tied over its back, flying out of a lake at me. Man, I miss my drugs!

So we'll get an early start at the track anyway: gates open at 5 and 'Will Call' opens at 6AM!! Glad I phoned. More later.....time to hit the road!

The road to Indy

No pics today: the drive down from Lansing was the usual 5 hr monotone of farmland, dead animals, and road signs. Nice apple-pecan pie at a small-town cafe tho. It's the little things that keep me going.

On a whim, we decided to check out the Speedway on the way through to our motel in Crawfordville. Wrong. 3:30PM and there was HUGE traffic trying to get IN to the track. Uh, people...the race is TOMORROW! The boulevards are choc-a-bloc with campers, trailers, lawnchairs, BBQ's and beers. Every home is offering parking, hospitality or both. So, off to the motel, 40 miles west and filled to the pool-edge with pot-bellied fans in race garb, mean age: 50. Lucky we booked ahead, or I'd still be driving. Local TV of the Indy parade through town has Derek "Look at her chest! Look at her chest!" Daley, of all people, narrating. For some reason, the sidewalks are PACKED with spectators. Indy really does seem to be a big deal here. Who knew?

Friends, Family & Fauna