Day 2 - Drake, North Dakota to Swift Current, Saskatchewan

August 7^th, 2009

Woke up at 6am after a 2 hour nap. Ugh, I feel all twitchy and sore... like I slept awkwardly and for very little time. Oh yeah, I slept for two hours and it was in a reclined car seat.

I got out, stretched a bit and then drove over to the diner; still not open. What? I drove back over to the city park where I'd noticed a bathroom the night before. Luckly it was unlocked. After washing my face I jumped back in the car and headed back through town one more time. Still nobody. I decided to stop on Main Street, take a few photos of Drake and then hit the road again. I don't think anybody actually lives in Drake anymore.

I passed through Balfour (no diner,) Velva (no open diner,) Sawyer (no diner,) and then the rain started in. It was pouring buckets, even with the windshield wipers on high it was still hard to see. The local radio station said it was report that rain was falling at a rate of 6”/hour. Now that's flood conditions. I reached Minot, North Dakota aroun 7am and drove through the town looking for a diner. The streets had been turned into creek beds and the water was running down and splashing up against cars. It was crazy, the whole storm sewer system must have been clogged. I drove through the town via the business route and then a second time on Highway 52 and the only restaurant I found was Country Kitchen.

I stopped into County Kitchen where the parking lot lines seemed to be just a meer suggestion. Honestly the worst parking situation I've ever seen in my life. Nobody seemed to care, so I quit caring too and parked with about 1/3 of my car sticking out into the street. I'd have parked farther in, but the car I faced was parked with their drivers door even with the center line of the only parking lane in front of the restaurant. Every pair of cars had some varying degree of “over the line.” Mark it 8 Smokey.

After going in, I ordered the farmer's breakfast and after inhaling it and listening to the table of farmers next to me talk about how they'd drive home drunk during Men's League at the local Golf Course, I was back out on the road headed to Portal, North Dakota.

While driving through Northern North Dakota I drove along the Des Lacs National Wildlife Preserve which was quite beautiful. I also saw a fair number of Oil Dericks (is that how you spell that?) along the way. I think I read a little bit about North Dakota pumping oil when I was in school. From what I saw, oil drilling looks to be a pretty small and pretty independent operation in North Dakota. There weren't fields of devices pumping oil or anything like that.

I reached Portal around 10am and proceeded to enter the Border Crossing area. I received all the standard questions, I declared my 16 cans of Surly Beer that I was bringing over and handed over my new passport. I later learned that they flag new passports for “Identification Verification” and it probably would have been better to hand of my Driver's License. So next time, I'll use my Driver's License when going into Canada and my Passport when coming back to the United States.

I parked my car, brought in my passport, the yellow slip of paper the gal behind the window had handed me and my camera. I proceeded into the office that I was instructed to and sat down to wait for the Border Agent to finish her phone conversation. I sat around for about 15-20 minutes before she got off the phone. She then started in with the standard questions... where you from, where you going, how much money do you have on you, who are you going to see. Things of that nature. She was very good natured about the whole thing and for that I'm glad. I could see this experience could go a lot worse.

I had to consciously remind myself to not make jokes or show any emotion or real interest in the process other than to robotically and honestly answer the questions. She said please hold on a minute and proceded to go to her computer. She came back to me and asked me, “have you ever been convicted of or accused of a crime?” I asked, “Like a speeding ticket or parketing ticket?” She said, “no, have you ever been convicted of a crime?” I asked again, “So you mean if I've been accused or convicted of anything other than a speeding ticket or parking ticket?” She said, “I don't want to know about those. You don't need to tell me about those.” Then she asked again, “Have you ever been convicted of or accused of a crime​?” I answered, “no.” She said, “are you sure?” and I said “Yes. Very sure.” During this whole conversation the agent was fiddling with a white piece of paper in her hands. She asked me to step over to the height measuring chat, that you'd normally see at a convience store. I stood next to it, she reviewed her piece of paper. She looked at her piece of paper, my passport and myself. She repeated this process a few times. She then asked me to recite my Social Security Number, which I did promptly and robotically. I've had it memorized ever since my first paycheck when I was 14.

She looked at me with a smirk on her face and said, “Well, there's a very bad man in Oregon and you match his description perfectly.” I got a bit flush and said, “hmm... well that's definitely not me. I've lived in Minnesota my whole life.”

She proceeded to stamp my piece of paper and told me to see the man at the other counter. I did and was promptly sent on my way into Canada.

I really hope my experience getting back into the United States isn't as worrysome.

As I was driving Northwest on Highway 39 past Estevan and into Weyburn, I heard on the radio that there was a local farmers' market in Weyburn going on at the city centre. I thought it might be a good photo opportunity so I pulled off of Highway 39 and into Weyburn.

I drove up and down the main streets in Weyburn and didn't see much of interest. I did however see Big Jim's Beer and Wine Brewing. Big Jim's looked interesting, I thought it'd be a good place to ask questions about the local beer selection. I conversed with Jim about local beer styles which pretty much consist of Lagers, Ales and Pilsners. I asked him about the microbrew culture in Saskatchewan and he said it is non-existant due to Provincial Law. Apparently at his brew store you can only brew on-site as well.

I got back on the highway and headed North towards Moose Jaw. I listened on the radio as the local news talked about the disappointment of the local populace due to the cancelation of an Aerosmith concert in Winnipeg (the second time Aerosmith had canceled in the last 10 years) and the potential cancelation of the concert in Regina. It seemed to be the top news story of the day. I also learned that last night a van and semi collided and a few were killed on the same highway in North Dakota the previous night. The van had crossed the center line and the semi swerved to miss them, but could not.

There are lots of oil derricks in Southern Saskatchewan and trains and that's about it. Something I've found interesting about these small Canadian towns is that they don't necessarily have post offices as we're familar with them in the States. They'll have a set of metal mail cubbies. Like a 5' or 10' long by 4' high block of them with about 75-150 mail boxes like you'd see inside the post office. Except these are just along side the highway. So the postal service doesn't drop the mail at each rural mailbox, they just drop it in this set of boxes for everybody on the route.

Eventually after a bit more driving, I reached Moose Jaw at around 1pm. Whew, I was tired. It'd be driving for almost 5.5 hours already minus the border stop and breakfast in Minot. I pulled into the information center and looked around. Moose Jaw visitor information center has a giant moose, Mac, I believe is his name. This large cement moose is about 25' tall and weights 2 and a half tons (can you tell I took the tour?) Mac is also anotomically correct, which I thought was an interesting fact. Babe the Blue Ox in Bemidji MN isn't anotomically correct, neither is any other American larger-than-life tourist attraction I've seen. So Mac, the bull moose, is a site to see.

Moose Jaw is also filled with prairie dogs to the point it's comical. Literally anywhere there is a patch of dirt in town there is a prairie dog hole and about a half dozen prairie dogs running around. I quit counting at about 50 and I was just standing in one place. Maybe it was the same prairie dog running through a maze of tunnels just amusing the tourists.

I felt exhausted so as I walked through the visitor center I saw they were offering an old tyme trolley car style tour of Moose Jaw. I spoke with the young lady behind the desk and they said the next tour was leaving in five minutes. I thought, what the heck, and paid my $12 to attend. This would either be very informative or I could at least get in a good hour nap.

Apparently Moose Jaw was the Northern home of Al Capone something Moose Jawians are very proud of. They have the “River Street” district which is filled with old hotels, the train depot (which has burned down a few times) and some bars.

Moose Jaw also has some of the oldest buildings in Saskatchewan many of them build in the late 19^th century and a few in the first decade of the 20^th century.

Also it wasn't until the sometime in the early 20^th century, over 2 decades since Moose Jaw had electricity that they could actually use it 24/7. During the first thirty years of electricity in Moose Jaw they were restricted to only daytime use of the power (I believe that's what the tour guide says... somebody wikipedia that for me!)

After the tour I met a couple from Calgary, which they pronounce Cal-Gary here, and they said there really wasn't much to see between Moose Jaw and Calgary. They also said stay out of Brooks, Alberta, they said it's a bad town and lots of crime. I talked to them a bit about Banff and the wilderness and they talked about watching out for bears and how I'd see a lot of wildlife. I asked them if they'd heard of Stone Mountain Lodge just outside of Banff and they said no. I'd though about staying there as recommended by my uncle, Curtis.

I thanked them for the advice and prepared to continue my drive to Banff. I was now on the Trans-Canadian Highway 1. Otherwise known as a the TC.

Shortly after I left Moose Jaw around 3pm, I saw two hitchhikers on the side of the road, they were a man and a woman sitting on a huge pile of gear. It almost looked like it was more backpacks and such than they could carry between the two of them. I thought about picking them up, but they looked a bit sketchy and all that gear would not have fit in the convertible.

I continued along the rolling hills and big skies of Saskatchewan passing small towns here and there. Eventually stopping in Chaplin for fuel. I talked to the lady working there and asked her about the weather as it was about 55F which seemed a bit cold for this time of year. She said they'd never really had summer this year as it was always cold and overcast for the most part. She said it was hard times for the Skatch (as the locals call Saskatchewan) farmer with the hay yielding a good crop this year. She said nothing was really growing and the farmers were getting worried they'd have to sell their herds. She talked a bit about a Cattle Act which is something that apparently Canada had done in the past where farmers could sell/leverage the value of their herd and then later buy it back when the conditions improved at the same price. This allowed the farmers to float through a bad stretch without losing the everything they had worked for. Apparently this year that wasn't going to be the case and many would be forced to sell the herds they'd spent their lives building up just to keep the animals from starving or getting weak. I thanked her for her time and information and headed on my way.

At around 6pm I arrived in Swift Current and hopped from motel to motel checking out prices. I finally found the Caravan Motel at $79 a night with wifi internet to be a good deal. It was close to two lounges and I could easily walk and have a beer. Up the hill was Smitty's (which I later learned was a chain and just across a fence was Smiley's.

I unpacked for the night took my first shower in 24 hours and headed up the hill after watching a bit of CBC. They were still talking about the Aerosmith concert cancelations.

Smitty's was packed and the bartender/waitress/server, Jessica, said there'd be a long wait for food since the whole place was under staffed. I ordered the Rocky Mountain burger with fries (and gravy, of course) – it was delicious! I chatted with some of the locals about things. They all told me Banff was beautiful and that I'd really enjoy it. Lots of wildlife to be seen and experienced everywhere. Jessica told me about the local “hot spot” for partying. The place was called Caddy Shack and was open three days a week. Wednesday's was karaoke and Friday and Saturday was dancing. She also said the place to go party in Silvan Lake which was North of Calgary and apparently a beautiful lake town where she and her dogs spent $9,000 staying there and partying over a week or so.

After finishing dinner and trying a couple of the local beers, like O.V. And Calgary Ale (which tasted like nothing at all) I headed over to Smiley's to see what the night life was over there. This was after all a Friday night.

Smiley's had a different type of clientel. A woman at a table solicited me for a “good time” eventually falling off a stool and the locals at the lounge were very boisterous and obviously enjoying their alcohol. Somebody came in and got a 15-pack of Budweiser and I nearly fell off to stool when the total came to $31.50. Wow, Canada is expensive when it comes to alcohol. I already knew this but had hoped that the Western Proviences would be different than the East.

I talked a bit to a group of 5 of the locals all but two had missing front teeth. Nothing wrong with that, but just interesting to note. One of the guys told me about how farming was really rough this year and that they were pulling 76 bails on a field of hay instead of the usual 176. Something that was going to make things really rough for people in the coming winter. We also talked about fishing and how it was how the amount of fish was so abundant to them here. I explained how we're suggested to only eat one fish per month in Minnesota due to the amount of mercury in the water. They talked about crappie fishing and how they'd never caught a bass. One of the men told a story of his youth where they'd take their friend's father's weiners (piglets) and then ride the freight train down to the market and sell them for beer money. Kids are clever and mischievious no matter where you go.

I thanked them for the evening and the conversation, stopped into Tim Horton's next door for chili and a biscuit as a late night snack and then headed back to my room for a good night's sleep around 1am.