Cigars and Enchiladas

Saskatoonies seem to enjoy smoking cheap cigars and eating Mexican food, and thanks to lung cancer and the subsequent anti-smoking laws, one can enjoy a good enchiladas verde without being enshrouded that acrid, dried manure smelling Colt 45 smoke you encounter every time you step outdoors.

And enjoy a good enchiladas verde, we did. In fact it was one of the best Mexican meals and one of the best margaritas I’ve ever had, which is quite a find in a small Canadian city in the middle of the prairies. The place is called La Bamba. They have 2 for 1 margaritas on Tuesdays, and 2 for 1 Mexican beer on Wednesdays.

In fact, if I was flying anywhere that routed me over Saskatchewan airspace I would purposely choose a flight with a 7 hour layover in Saskatoon (i.e. any Air Canada flight) so I could take a taxi from the airport to La Bamba and have a meal. It was so good, I would be willing to fly Air Canada to eat there again.

Damn, that was a good enchilada.

They Got Omlets in Saskatchewan!

Saskatchewan Kenobi

Even though Google Maps suggested I drive north to Edmonton and take Highway 16 to Saskatoon, I decided instead to head due east from Red Deer and travel as the crow flies. Surely a straight line must be faster than a “v” I thought, and I made great time through Alberta. As soon as I reached the Saskatchewan border however, it became apparent that it was going to take a long time to reach Saskatoon. In hind sight it should have been obvious that in a Province with an oil based economy like Alberta, the roads will get a frequent coat of new asphalt, but in Saskatchewan, wheat does not make good asphalt.

So Google Maps was right this time, and I didn’t make it to Saskatoon. I instead stayed the night in Biggar, Saskatchewan in a cinder block motel with an amphitheatre-like ability to transmit sound. At the hotel I met a few residents of Biggar and they seemed very guarded; particularly the women. I suspect they’re shy around strangers or maybe the women have a general suspicion of men, who are known carriers of the dreaded affliction known as unplanned pregnancy, which I understand is pandemic in places where winter lasts 6 months. Obi Wan Kenobi said “We must be cautious”, and the women of Biggar seem to be.

Then again, perhaps it is bigger than the women of Biggar. Perhaps the entire Province of Saskatchewan is solemn because they have heard one too many tractor joke or have had one too many relative lose a limb in a combine harvester related accident. Would a Province wide chain of hot dog stands called “Saskatcheweiners” bring joy to them? Perhaps.

Done

10 days; 4700 feet of pipe; 4 days ahead of schedule.


Next stop Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

Tractor

Yesterday I saw the biggest tractor I’ve ever seen in my life. It had eight wheels that each must have been 8 feet tall and a blade on the front about twice that of a typical bulldozer. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera with me at the time, but I did get a photo of this old school bus someone converted into a tow truck to tow old school buses.

Red Deer

The air in Red Deer smells like wet hay. Every morning when I step out of my hotel room into the hallway on the way to breakfast there is a strong smell of hay. Outside, I can’t see the hay but my nose tells me it’s near.

There are no red deer in Red Deer, but there are obnoxious pick-up trucks, western wear outlets and liquor stores; lots of liquor stores. Another thing I’ve noticed is box stores; an endless string of box stores and food chains that force the people of Red Deer to drive their obnoxious pick-up trucks. They drive from one box store to the next because even though they are across the street from one another, the Home Depot and Wal-Mart are a kilometre apart, separated by two massive parking lots full of western wear wearing, obnoxious pick-up truck drivers that seem to be in a hurry to get to the next massive parking lot and the next box store.

And somewhere nearby there must be a lot of hay.

Backhoe Arm

While supervising the installation of a buried piping network, I heard a loud “pop” and the backhoe arm fell heavily into the trench where only moments before one of the crew was standing. It was a mechanical failure that is not typical; something inside one of the hydraulic cylinders went. Something I have never seen before, and something the backhoe operator has never seen.

We followed all the safety protocols and no-one was hurt, but the incident was written up as a “near miss” because the potential for injury was present. It was a valuable lesson, and I am going to implement new safety rules based on what I witnessed.

3 Valley Gap

Three Valley Gap makes no sense to me. A 200 room hotel situated on a small lake nestled between the Trans Canada Highway and a CP rail line. Not quite far enough away from Revelstoke to be considered remote, but somehow managing to capture the essence of remoteness. It reminds me a little of that Chateau in “The Shining”, but without the river of blood running through the hallways.

I’ve driven past this place a hundred times and never stayed here. In fact, the overly friendly guy at the front desk said a lot of their visitors have driven by many times and were eventually overcome by curiosity and pulled in for a night. Not the greatest business plan, but I expect they also get a lot of tour buses.

Apparently they have their own hydroelectric power plant across the Highway and in a few weeks they shut the place down for the winter when the water level is too low to turn the turbines. Say, didn’t that Chateau in “The Shining” also close for the winter?

The place is already relatively empty and the peace and quiet gives me a chance to work on my writing.

Now, where did I leave off…

All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy…

But, I digress.

The hotel may not be haunted, but you must admit the pool is a bit macabre.

While they swim, your kids can pretend they are trying to escape from the sinking Titanic. Unfortunately they are stuck on one of the lower decks and they all die and sink to the bottom of the Atlantic. Grim game, but quieter than Marco Polo.