Riding Mountain and so on

After driving across the prairie of southern Manitoba, we were a little skeptical about what sort of landscape constituted enough of a mountain to give Riding Mountain National Park its name. We're not talking the Rockies here, but on a Manitoban scale, this lovely park definitely qualifies as mountainous. I loved the preserved, old-timey park entrance and how you could see looking back east that you had indeed climbed above the flats.

We only had about 24 hours in Riding Mountain, but we saw the highlights. At this point, we were firmly in mosquito territory. I wore my bug jacket and donned two electrified rackets with which to zap them, which made me feel relatively protected, but I am still covered in bites. Crazy.

We had a break from the little buggers when we explored the park's central town of Wasagaming, with its multitude of ice cream and coffee shops, plus a beautiful beach area and pier out into Clear Lake.

SR is major animal bait. The only bear and moose I ever saw in Colorado were when I was with him, and he brought the beasts in Riding Mountain, too. We easily located the park's bison herd, which was conveniently grazing in the rain next to the roadside, so that it almost made me nervous to roll down the window and take a picture, they were so close.

And as we drove away from the bison, we came upon a mama moose and her calf, who would probably have stood there staring at us all night if we hadn't eventually risked a charge by mama and started trying to creep forward past them.

Back at the campsite, I have never been so glad for a tent, as the mesh door was covered with dozens of mosquitoes begging to be let in.

As we continued farther north over the next couple days, we did our part to help control the bug population of central Manitoba with the front of the car. The windshield took on rainbow shades of yellow, orange, and purple bee and fly and other bug guts, which my wipers couldn't touch and had to be scrubbed off with gas station squeegees whenever we stopped to refill.

On and up, on an up, deeper into the forests and lakes of Manitoba (including this spot at Simonhouse Lake in Grass River Provincial Park)...

...to spectacular Pisew Falls (we stayed five times as long as we otherwise would have, as it was strangely devoid of mosquitoes here)...

...and past the roadside wildflowers, headed to basically the end of the road....

Prairie People

A gas station attendant who saw my license plate just outside of Winnipeg was asking where I'd come from and where I'm going, and then asked me, "Why did you come to the worst place in Canada?" I don't know: I think the kind Manitobans who have hosted me so far would take offense at that question! SR and I have stayed with a Manitoba lifer who LOVES Winnipeg, as well as a family who moved to the outskirts of Brandon from southern Ontario and now love the prairie more than they ever could have expected. Yes, it's very flat here, but seeing the value of this place through the eyes of people who truly love it gives me an appreciation for what is certainly NOT the worst place in Canada.

The endless fields of brilliant yellow canola are gorgeous...

...and we got to visit the beach vacation town of Gimli on Lake Winnipeg, the largest settlement of Icelandic people outside of Iceland.

Our host in Winnipeg was my friend SH's aunt (you will see SH later, as we trek across the Yukon and to Glacier Bay together next month), L, who has spent her whole life in Manitoba and never wants to leave. She gave us great advice for exploring the city. I especially loved wandering around The Forks and the Exchange District.

Then on to Brandon to stay with long-time friends of J, my McDonald's Corners host, on their lovely land. It was the patriarch of this family who used the term "prairie people" to describe himself and others who love living in Manitoba, and I love that. The view from their backyard says it all.