In the summer they give horse drawn carriage rides.  That would have been cooler.  Still, a worthwhile stop in Cardston, Alberta.

The museum houses a big collection that ranges from rough hewn, all wood construction ox-cart-like work wagons to ornate coaches ridden in by royalty to light racing carts.  There are horse drawn fire engines, hearses, delivery trucks, school buses and many sleighs.  The story telling is well done as they chronicle the evolution of the carriage as it shaped and responded to societal changes from the late 1800s until the automobile displaced it.

It is easy to see that era as a more romantic time; gliding along in one of these beautifully detailed carriages behind a sleek thoroughbred at the hands of a skilled driver.  The clip clop of the hooves is all you hear as you are seated on red brocade and the breeze pushes back you hair.

Then reality.  The roads were rough and the ride bumpy since even the best carriages only had leather strap springs.  Horses smell.  In just one day a horse poops 22KG and pees 9 liters.  That’s a lot.   Lots of horses, like in towns and cities, meant LOTS of poop and pee.  Some drivers overworked their horses, they were injured and some even died right on the street.

I guess the car is an improvement.  They too,are smelly and some do quit in the middle of the road but they are certainly integral to the lifestyle we are currently living.

What on earth is that noise?  We pulled into camp and had just settled in when I first noticed it, repeated short bursts at a high frequency…. the kind that makes your fillings hurt.  I searched for animal or mechanical sources.  Geez, what is it?  Oh my gosh, we in the middle of a prairie dog colony and that noise is the mama prairie dog calling to her many young ones who are out and about.  So long to the cute little bark we have heard from other colonies when they are just chilling out.  This sound comes awfully close to getting them off my “aren’t they cute” list.  They are still fun to watch but that’s one more place we won’t be building our cabin, among prairie dogs!

Our border crossing was a little odd.

“Passports please.”   “You, in the passenger seat, lean forward so that I can see you when I ask questions.”  A bit brusk but, ok.

Do you have any alcohol?

Do you have any weapons?  Guns, bow knives, switchblades, …..about 10 types of knives I never heard of.  Pepper spray?  It was an oddly long list but hey, whatever.

Then the strange part.

“How long do you plan to be in Canada?”  30 days, we are heading to Alaska.  “Where did you hear that it will take 30 days to get across Canada?”   Uh, we are camping and sightseeing along the way.   “SO, it doesn’t take 30 days to get across Canada.  You are choosing to take 30 days.”  Yes.  “Where are you camping?” Lethbridge. “Then where?” Banff.  “Where else?”  She wanted to know our entire itinerary.  It felt a bit like an inquisition with the lasting impression being, yes, you can pass through but keep it moving.

She never asked any of the anticipated questions based on our pervious crossings:  Is there any one else in the motorhome besides the two of you?  Do you have pets?  Do you have fresh produce or plants?

I’m glad it is over with for now and hope we get more amiable border agents on our future crossings. I guess it isn’t their job to be nice; but, they are a sort of ambassador for those of us who enter to vacation and appreciate and enjoy their country.

Original home of Winnie a bear cub taken to Europe by an army officer as the company mascot during WWII.  The cub was given safe harbor in London’s Zoo during action and become the inspiration for Winnie the Pooh.

We love the sun through the clear, clean air.  The shorelines come alive like I can count the leaves on the trees and the feathers on the eagle as it soars by.  Trees aren’t just green.  They are a pallet of greens from a bright limey color of new birch leaves to the deep black-green of the spruce.  The sky starts bight blue at the horizon to a deep endless blue straight above.  Waves on the water sparkle.  It is all so vivid.

I love the loons.  The soulful, sometimes mournful yodeling and the soft hoot when they are “chatting” as they float and fish.  The locator calls as they fly overhead or far across the lake answering back as pairs or social groups gather.

We love the quiet and the solitude.  There are bays where I feel truly alone with the earth.

It is full of memories.  Kent came here for years with his parents.  Both are gone from this earth now but somehow feel a little closer here.  We came here with our boys.  Both are grown and on their own now but there are flashbacks of good times when we return to this shared place.

We will come here again.

Kent had a successful fishing day again.  We enjoyed it for diner.  Probably our last Wakami fish for this trip.  The weather is to be windy and rainy for the rest of our stay.

Fresh grilled Walleye for supper, nothing better!!