The Prairies are not as Flat as you Think

When I say to most people that I am going across the country by train, and it will take three days plus, most say something like “the Prairies are so flat, it will be boring for you”. I’m here to disavow you of this misconception.

By the time we got past Edmonton, we were truly out of the Rockies. And it was flat, compared to them. I have felt in the past (I have been on the Prairies before, once to work for a month as a medical student), that for the two “ends” of the country, the land is mostly flat with hills going up from there. The prairies do this in reverse: they have flat land with river valleys going down from there. They are not flat at all, just different.

But it became boring, not through geography, but through just taking too much time. We began to count the hours late, sort of like notches on the bedpost. At one point, we were over twenty hours late. Now, this has some advantages: we arrived at Saskatoon some twenty hours late, which put it at about 10 PM. So I got to see the railway station there (big thrill, eh? When you are stuck on a train that late, you look for good stuff where you can find it!).

But it also meant that we had to make up time where we could. So our stop in Winnipeg was shortened a lot, and I didn’t get to re-visit the Canadian Museum for Human Rights, or the Forks area. Instead, I hung around inside the sttion and tried to get somw wifi for emails and such. 

Leaving Winnipeg, it started to snow. And it snowed hard right to the Ontario border, then more lightly. In the end, we had snowy and cold conditions all across Northern Ontario, as far as Sudbury. This was particularly tough because Darlene, at home, was enjoying +20 degree weather. Oh well, such are the experiences of this big country!

In the end, we arrived in Toronto in the early morning, some 17 hours later than expected. Difficult for those making connections through Pearson, or to other trains going further East. But for me, it meant I got to sleep one more time on the train, and be ready to go when I got home. 

“There was a Time, in this Fair Land, when the Railroad did not Run”

Gordon Lightfoot comes to mind as I ride across the country on steel rails. Of course, his “Steel Rail Blues” could also be appropriate. This trip by rail was one that I was looking forward to as part of my vacation out West. But, like other parts of this trip, there have been complications.

One of the reasons for staying with Patrick on my last night in Victoria, was to be inside the perimeter of the marathon so I could get to the seaplane for an early flight to Vancouver. The Canadian (VIA’s trans-continental train) was to leave at noon, and I didn’t want to miss it.

So it was disappointing when I received an email the day before that there had been a problem with the train from the east, and the outgoing train would be delayed an unknown number of hours. I decided to go to Vancouver anyways, and stay in the station. But it was rining, so I was in no hurry. The seaplane rie over to the big city was a treat I gave myself, and was worth it: they fly low enough to see a lot more, and it is only a 45-minute flight. When I got to the airport in downtown Vancouver, the rain was still coming down, so I sat in the reception area of the airport for an hour or so before heading out into the drizzle. It was about two kilometres to the station, and again I was taking my time. Somewhere along the way, I got a further email from the folks at VIA telling me the wait would be about five hours. (I found out late there had been a derailment and an accident in Ontario, and also that CN in Winnipeg had denied them use of the tracks for a few hours, even though they were ready to go.) Eventually, we got going, about six hours behind schedule. But surely we could make that up, eh? It’s a big country, after all.

One of the disadvantages of being so late was that we would not be able to see the Fraser Canyon, a spectacular gorge in the rock through which the river crashes headlong towards the sea. But, on the other side, we would be in daylight through the main part of the Rockies. And so it was. 

After the introductory bubbly, and a fine dinner, I crashed into bed about eight o’clock, hoping to get on top of this cold. I slept for about ten of the next eleven hours, and felt a whole lot better. After some breakfast, I went for some viewing in the Dome Car. I was watching out the window, and noticed by the side of the trcks, surrounded by dense forest, a small grave, white picket fence and cross in place. There would be story to tell there! (VIA, in its search for more money, has set up a “Prestige Class”—which I’m not a part of—and they have exclusive access to the back of the train. We have an observation car a bit more forward in the train: still good, but not like those Park cars with the rounded rears at the back of the train.) But I was getting tired again, and we had an unscheduled stop, for freight trains of course, so I had a sleep. Didn’t miss a lot of scenery, and woke with mountains looming high and snowy—the snow seeming to flow like gentle streams down the mountain gulleys— over the shallow valleys. We slowed at Pyramid Falls for some pictures, then again near Mount Robson, before getting to the Great Divide. And then gently downwards into Jasper for a scheduled stop, and to pick up and leave off some passengers. 

 Monday is when they are celebrating Thanksgiving on the train, so clearly we had to have turkey for supper. But before that, there was another bubbly intro for new passengers (and some of us older ones partook). And my neighbours had bought some wine in Jasper and invited me and another couple for a glass before dinner. I had first sitting, and sat with a couple from Utah. Pleasant conversation, as expected. Then back to the room, and to bed to read for a while before trying to sleep.

The overnight was bad for the train. Lots of freight trains pushing us into sidings for hours. By the time I woke this morning, we were about 12 hours late, and just leaving Edmonton (we should have been there yesterday afternboon). All the staff deserve a hand for being as positive as they are, but this is not good. Breakfast and reading, writing my blog, skipping lunch, thinking abouot a nap: all these things to do!

Disc Golf at Pender Island

Saturday broke cool and clear. Pat and I had arranged to have coffee at his place before eight, then head off for Pender, to catch the 9:45 ferry. We got there, waited for a while, then boarded ship and sailed. A better day could not have been requested: water was calm, the air was cool, the sun bright, and the islands just sparkling.

It’s a short trip over to the Otter Bay, about 35 minutes. And we were on our way. First stop was in the plaza along the way, a pretty modern place with a books tore, a few clothing places, a grocery, a gas station (which Pat informs me sells discs). We went to eat at Jo’s Place, where they sere up hearty fare with a smile, and good cooking. By the end of that, it was almost 11:00.

Then off to the golf course for a round of 27 holes! I admit I was a bit concerned that my old knees wouldn’t do it, but then I realized that the holes were only a few hundred yards long. And Pat was a great teacher. He was gentle, constantly positive, and supportive. 

The first nine were sort of a practice round. On the second or third, I almost stopped the day, by slipping on a moist bit of rock and coming down hard on my back onto a rock. It literally knocked the breath out of me, so I could not breathe for about 20 seconds (it felt longer). But I had landed perfectly: straight onto the flat rock, flat onto my back. It would have been nicer not to have fallen, but this was okay. We went on, and I even succeeded in getting a few birdies.

So we did the 27 holes, me with very little skill, and a bit of back pain, but lots of enthusiasm. Worked up a thirst, and we decided to go to the pub at Port Browning. This was a short drive, and a beautiful spot. We walked the beach for a while, stared at the water, and finally went for our beer.

Then back to the ferry and on home. Because of the marathon, we had decided to drop off the car Saturday evening, so it was after dark when we got home to Pat’s place. After a left-overs supper that was pretty darn good, we talked a bit and cleaned up. I was going to sleep on his floor, so had to get the air mattress and sleeping bag set up. I was coming down with a cold, so I wanted to go to bed early. Pt went out to a friends while I settled into bed. I slept my last night there hearing the sounds of a Saturday night, and the preparations for a Sunday marathon.

Island Time

I started out early, snce I had to go to Duncan, through the Malahat, and that would take about an hour’s drive. The day was sunny and cool, but the brightness was enriching. The drive was unveventful, and I succeeded in finding Paul Reynold’s house. He led me into the kitchen nook, where we sat and talked for several hours. We were joined at times by his wife (?Shirley?), and we talked about older days, as well as what we had all been up to since we saw each other last, 50 years ago. Photo is of the Cowichan area from the Malahat lookout.

I had intended to stay for only about three houors, but ended up being there for four. So it was almost three by the time I got back into Victoria, to the 

Finnie’s house.Libby, as expected, was in her garden; Neil was out doing a literacy course. Libby and I went for a good walk around her local Golf Course, and got home in time for some talk before Neil arrvied, then talked some more. They were off to an All-Candidates’ Meeting that night for Saanich, So I was able to leave in good time and join Pat and two of his friends at The Drake (a lovely pub). I met Doug who does some film work; and Tim, who works at SportChek and for IronMan Canada. Talked about work, issues of sexual identity, beer lore, Victoria’s ills. It was a bit noisy, and I had trouble keeping up with the banter. I got tired early and headed back to the hotel for a great sleep. A busy day.

You can’t expect Victoria to be sunny two days in a row, at this time of year. So it was raining the next day. Pat had arranged to have the day off to be with me. We had designated it a shopping day. First, we had to re-stock his fridge, and buy some food for supper that night. (I knew I wouldn’t be let in my house if I didn’t do this!). Then some shopping for kitchen things for Pat and some other things for Darlene. We wandered about town, lots of walking. Stopped for lunch at the Board Game Café (where I met Arlo, another of Pat’s friends).

But a complication had arisen. Turns out that Victoria has a big marathon on Thanksgiving Sunday, the very day I was going to need to get around downtown. Some streets would be closed, others difficult to cross. I had planned to stay in Saanich on Saturday. night, but in the end, decided that I had better stay with Pat and sleep on the floor, so I would be inside the marathon zone, and able to get to my flight more easily.

We had a wonderful cooked chicken that couldn’t be beat, on the Friday. And there were left-overs for Saturday. Again, Friday, I stayed at the hotel. I was not going to be able to do that on Saturday. So life became a bit more comlicated.

The Wild, White West

I should have known when I was in bed, listening to Matt Galloway on Tuesday morning. It was my birthday, and I was going to go to see patrick in Victoria. I was going to leave the house at 2, fly out of Hamilton at 4, and be in Victoria by 8 their time. 

Matt mentioned casually that Calgary had had some snow, and he hoped it wouldn’t come east. Funny, and I didn’t think too much of it. Until about 2, when I got an email from WetJet saying that my plane was going to be an hour late. This was followed hosrtly by another email stating it was now going to be two hours late. So I got on the phone, waited for over a half-hour, and got my ticket re-arranged so I would get on the 11 PM flight (I was going to miss the earlier one leving Calgary). Got to the airport, and got on the plane, which left as scheduled, about 2 hours late.

When we got to Calgary, we understood: they had been whallopped with almost two feet of snow! Nothing was moving. And the plane, as it landed, seemed to slide a bit on the frozen runway, but managed to keep in a straight line. So we got into Calgary at about 8:45PM, ready for our flight.

Well, the weather was not finished with us. Our pilot was still on his way to Calgry from somewhere else, and would be late, perhaps midnight. We were touchy, bordering on enraged, but, what can hyou do? We waited, and waited. And about midnight, they let us onto the plane. We settled in, they pushed back from the gate, and along came with this praying-mantis-like de-icing maching to spray down the wings so we wouldn’t crash: good idea. We were almost on our way. Until...a passenger felt ill. So we had to think about it a while, then returned to the gate so the woman could be taken to hospital. We finally took off—you guessed it—two hours late. By the time I got to the hotel, it was 2:30 AM in Victoria, 5:30 AM by my body’s clock. Bed was really nice, and fortunately it was comfortable and I slept well. And there was no snow in Victoria.

And there were some plusses/ When I woke about ten in the morning, I waas feeling pretty good. I went down to the hotel restaurant (Ruby’s) and had some wonderful bagels and smoked salmon, with capers fininshed by sauteeing (wonderful! I will try this at home). Plus, they were playing Aretha Franklin on their steroe from old LPs! Heaven.

And then an obligatory trip to Russell Books for some browsing, and a walk about town for a while. I talked with Pat, and we agreed to meet after his work. That gave me some hours to play. One of the things I did was go to check out the ncar rental possibilities. Turns out to be $65/day if I rented it the following day, and $42/day of I rented it tht day. So I rented it. I had arranged to go up and see my friend Paul Reynolds in Duncan the following day, and would also stop by the Finnies for a visit. So it made sense.

Met up with Pat after his work, and we walked back to his apartment. We decided to have supper out and then follow that with a viewing of Michael Moore’s new film about the Trump US. Nice evening; not a nice film (simultaneously disturbingly accurate and insightful, and disturbingly unfocussed and fuzzy). And so to bed.