Southern CA Part II

Back in L.A. after my trip to Wisconsin, I braved the traffic along with all the hearty souls who were commuting home to the San Bernardino valley. My aim was Colton, CA, and a visit with my Peace Corps Madagascar friend, M!

Though the last time we saw each other was nine years ago in a land far, far away, she has been a faithful correspondent all these years and we picked up right where we left off with great conversations and walks around her neighborhood, Redlands, and Camp Seeley near Crestline. When we were trying to decide what to have for lunch one day, M recalled that I'd once written her a letter from my village in southern Mada telling her that I'd made a lunch of yam, what I was pretty sure were lima beans, and wild tomatoes (probably the only things I had available, and everything tastes good when you're hungry and the local market only happens once per week, five miles away!). Apparently after I wrote that to her, she went on a kick of eating sweet potatoes, white beans, and tomato sauce. Giddily, we decided on that for lunch. Don't knock it till you try it!

From Colton, I headed east (strange now to be heading east for the first time since June, when I got as far east as one can on this continent and so turned west) through hazy mountains and windmill colonies…

…and a quick look-see around Palm Springs…

…before heading into the wilds of beautiful Joshua Tree National Park.

I took up my umbrella as defense against the relentless sun and walked and walked and walked through   miles of the quiet of the desert. Check out the clear view of the San Andreas fault in this pic!--the dark ridge heading horizontally across the center of the picture.

When the sun was lower in the morning and evening, the shadows against the crazy rock formations were just amazing.

As was it to drive past a tarantula.

Maybe my favorite part of the park was the cholla cactus garden. And not just because I got to explore it as the relentless sun was finally dipping behind a mountainside.

Saskatchwan

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.

Comfort of home

The East has been conquered! Of Canada, that is. And not actually conquered. Just seen and enjoyed. Here's a visual for you of where I've been the past 5/6 weeks:

For every spot I've loved, there are two more added to my "next time" list. So it goes. But after all this galavanting, it was time for the familiar voyage home for the 4th of July in my hometown near Milwaukee. Luckily, though it had me racing through eastern Ontario faster than I otherwise would have, the geography and timing were really pretty perfect for a jaunt down to Wisconsin and an idyllic weekend with my family.

There were fireworks, and kiddo time, so much goodness with friends and family, cook-outs, and (of course) my mom's chocolate chip-oatmeal cookies. I love my life.

O, Canada!

From Montréal, I made my way to Canadian province #6: Ontario! First, I spent a couple of days in the rural town of McDonald's Corners, about an hour west of Ottawa. A year ago at my parents' annual 4th of July party, I was talking to S, a friend of my mom's, about my travel plans. Turns out S herself is Canadian! So we have been exchanging e-mails all year about my Canada plans, and she also connected me with her sister, J, who has lived in every far corner of Canada you can imagine and was full of advice and info about the north, especially. J also invited me to visit her at her home in McDonald's Corners if she was around when I came through town. As luck would have it, I was able to get there just before she went on vacation for a month--and S and her husband happened to be visiting at that time as well. We had a terrific time together, visiting the Saturday morning market (homemade sticky buns,  fresh coffee, even a wood-fired pizza stand, oh my!)....

...making a stop at the town dump, locally called "the re-use" because most things that went to the dump ended up in a swapping station, where most of us found something helpful to take home with us.

We also took a walk through a beautiful reserve protecting wild orchids and pitcher plants, among other things.

And J continued to impart all sorts of amazing stories (and a slide show) about her far north adventures, convincing me that even though I have not the time and funds to do a Northwest Territories river trip or a proper Baffin Island visit this summer, I really need to return for that soon. I mean, what's not to love about a place where this is a commonly stolen street sign?:

From McDonald's Corners, I backtracked a bit to Ottawa, where I stayed with another fantastic CouchSurfing host, C. She and her friend M and I took a very scenic hike in Gatineau Park, just outside the city.

And then the next day was July 1: Canada Day! (The Canadian version of the 4th of July, for those of you as clueless about Canada as I was until very recently.) The entire city and then some converged (in red!) in downtown Ottawa (it being the national capitol and all) for the festivities.

Since I don't particularly love museums and other typical touristy cultural things that you find in places that are national capitals, this was perfect. So fun to wander the city on such a vibrant, exciting day, seeing what we could see and saying "oh well!" about the rest. In the background of this picture, some Parliament buildings.

We also met up with a couple of C's friends from Spain, and managed, even among the Canada Day chaos, to find a quiet street on which to stop for a coffee and afternoon snack, swapping travel stories and plans, and doing our part to make the world an ever-smaller place.

Montréal

If Québec City is the Venice of Canadian cities--immediately, visually gorgeous and charming--then I think Montréal is its Rome. Big city, but so rich in variety and hidden gems, with more to notice and appreciate with each passing day.

I had the great fortune of spending my time in Montréal with Francophone CouchSurfing hosts, V and F, who truly made my visit. They took me out for my first poutine (the Québecois culinary, calorie-packed creation that starts with fries, gravy, and cheese curds, and goes from there)...

...took me for a long walk around the city that they clearly love so much (and I can understand why!)...

...gave me advice on what to do when exploring on my own (including checking out the hip Plateau neighborhood, with all its winding front staircases)...

...and alerted me to the bagel rivalry I hadn't known of between NYC and Montréal. I did try a fresh bagel from an impressive operation in Mile End (a neighborhood so like parts of Brooklyn that I kept forgetting where I was) and it was great, but I will reserve judgment on which city wins the contest for best bagel.

I even went to an improv show in French with V, which flew mostly over my head, but was a great experience nonetheless, especially as we went out afterward with some of her friends for more Montréal fun. Here is us showing ENTHUSIAM for this great city and life in general.

My last morning in town, a steady rain foiled my plans to climb to the lookout in Mont Royal city park, so instead I went to a yoga class. It turned out to be bilingual, with two teachers tag-teaming the instruction. SUCH a great class. I left the city floating on air and looking forward to returning some day. Hopefully sooner rather than later.