O Canada
O Canada — the second leg in Trekking Torrey’s fall road trip
The road to Deadwood curved sinuously, reaching high on mountain ridges and then falling precipitously to traverse mountain valleys. It felt wild. Lonely and secluded. We rode (drove) into town early. Had we squinted our eyes the construction work could have become hitching posts, the traffic lights banners of a former town celebration. Since gambling and carousing are less enjoyable with an entourage of minors, and since we were passing through hours before any museum or historical place of interest opened, we took selfies with a sign and got the heck outta Dodge (Deadwood).
The drive to Canada was long. It included North Dakota (we detoured), a new state for me, and a drive past the Medicine Rocks of Montana. Other than that, the main excitement was Judah’s response to the Canadian Border Guard (she asks, “are the kids not in school?” I respond, “No ma’am, we homeschool” Judah pips up, “I go to school” she states, “You must be the smart one” Judah repartees, “I’m the smart ass” Joshua and I both groan). And then, we are in Canada.
The Canadian Museum game is strong. We visited three museums while we were there, each one markedly different and each one finely curated. Our hotel also boasted a waterslide…which became and continues to be the absolute highlight of the trip for our two eldest. We perfected hotel dinners in-house (holla to the crockpot) and drooled over the pancake conveyer belt in the breakfast room. A Mountie took our picture and we introduced the kids to Tim Horton’s. A gopher town hilariously kept the kids (and me) entertained; Cora and Olivia kept vigil at the first entrance we’d found while the playful gophers popped out of and back into other holes less than five feet away.
One of the museums was deep in the heart of Regina’s (capital of Saskatchewan) university district. An ache often forms when I find myself close to a university, a longing for academia and the life I remember as a university student. To wake each morning with the sole purpose of gaining knowledge (hopefully wisdom as well) is intoxicating. Wrestling with ancient texts and the current minds that consider them, subsiding on cheap and easy meals, forgetting to shower or change clothes (ok, that one motherhood retains), and the brightness of belief that betterment is not only possible but inevitable are the foundational college experiences that raise a near homesickness in me. The museum was great. The emerald park we ran through and playground we stumbled across were wonderful moments outside. Yet the excursion cast a pall on my spirit.
We began reading The Voyage of the Dawn Treader while in Canada and its tale of travel captivated the kids. I prayed the growth of each character would speak to us (me) as we continued our road trip and found myself sympathizing with Eustace in a new and enlightening way. My unsettled spirit, longing for a time and place far in the reaches of my past, could not or would not find peace and joy in the present circumstances much like Eustace’s constant desire to see Narnia in light of his world kept him from experiencing the adventure unfolding before him. Until he became a dragon. Which I sincerely hoped would not be my path to redemption.
We completed our time in Canada and were welcomed back into the states by a border guard originally from Austin, TX. I had begged a detour to Devil’s Tower (America’s first national park and a true sight to behold — also one I had never yet seen), the concession was made. Our maps warned that the route might include unpaved roads, which Joshua took to mean the roads around the park. He was wrong. A driving rain partially obscured the sign noting a decrease in the speed limit, the need for which became evident when we sailed from paved highway to rutted dirt road before the 80 mph to 40 mph transition could be made. Forty-five tense, muddy minutes later we merged onto a highway (paved). It was an adventure.
The weather cleared and Devil’s Tower delivered. A pronghorn antelope, startled by the car in front of us, bolted beside us and we raced North America’s fastest mammal. A night in a Wyoming hotel and the second leg was over. The high mountains were about to be tackled.
