I feel horrible cramming all of Saskatchewan into a single post. But I've been lazy about posting and didn't spend as much time in the province (the best-named of all the Canadian provinces, if you ask me) as I easily could have. Like Manitobans, the Canadians of Saskatchewan are needlessly self-deprecating. There is enormous beauty here.
Our first night, we camped on one of the gazillions of lakes in the province--this one part of Narrow Hills Provincial Park.
As we made our way to Prince Albert National Park, we unfortunately witnessed the collision of a motorcycle and car (the motorcyclist, though hurt, should eventually be okay), which led to SR dutifully giving a witness statement to an officer at the Waskesiu RCMP branch.
Waskesiu, the summer resort town at the heart of Prince Albert NP, means "Red Deer," and the park delivered, with deer constantly crossing the road in the too-short time we spent there.
Sadly, it was then time to take SR to the airport in Saskatoon (the best-named city in the best-named province) for his return to the life of gainful employment. (Pooh on that, I say!) I stayed a night in Saskatoon with a fantastic CouchSurfing host, R, who showed me around the town that she calls home, including it's free art museum, the beautiful riverfront area, and hip Broadway.
Heading south out of Saskatoon, I stopped at Moose Jaw, which seemed to hold fascination for several of the Canadians I've met along the way--some of them just wondering why I would want to go there (this is for you, M!). I was partly enticed by the mineral hotsprings in town, though I didn't actually end up having time to soak there. Instead, I took a tour of the town's underground tunnels, some of which were a favorite hideout of Al Capone's when he needed to lie low for a bit in a place where the local authorities were as corrupt as he was.
R requested that I be sure to have my picture taken with the big moose stationed at one side of Moose Jaw and put it on the blog--so here you go, R! The guy who took this picture with me was also visiting, in the company of a local woman who told me "Mack the Moose. They put a fence around 'im cause people kept spray painting his privates various colors."
From there, I continued south through increasingly beautiful prairie land to the farm of R's parents, who had been very skeptical of her participation of this CouchSurfing thing but then graciously offered to host me the next night, as their place in the tiny, tiny, tiny hamlet of Glenbain was right in my flight path. R's father B showed me all around their fields of lentils, canola, and wheat, as well as the neighbor's crop of peas, with a gorgeous sunset on one side and moonrise on the other forming the backdrop of our tour.
Before I left, B gifted me a RoughRiders sweatshirt, which he promised will make me lots of friends from Saskatchewan anywhere in the world I might wander.
I left reluctantly, past more fields of lovely lavender flax and so on...
...with a newfound appreciation for grain elevators and their function (now I notice them EVERYWHERE!!!)...
...through the town of Cadillac, where every street is named after a classic car...
...and on down nearly to the U.S. border at Montana, to visit the gorgeous Grasslands National Park. Wow. I just love this landscape and all its subtle colors and beauty. I (thankfully) encountered none of the plethora of rattlesnakes that apparently inhabit the park and (thankfully) encountered sweeping vistas, tipi campgrounds, black-tailed prairie dogs, and sweeping vistas galore. Gorgeous.
Again too soon, I pulled myself away from the prairie and drove through another spectacular sunset...
...to the Cypress Hills area, where I spent my last Saskatchewan night. For now, that is.
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