We are approaching the twilight of the summer holidays and I am both saddened and relieved that September is nigh.
Our family has been running at breakneck speed through nearly every weekend and we are a bit exhausted and travel jittery. We just returned from an excellent ArtsWells Festival of All Things Art and have come back for three days before jetting off to the wilds of Saskatchewan, or "Sachuwa," as our children call it. I had wanted to drive to Sachuwa however our schedules were too tight to make the (long) car ride feasible so we are flying instead.
I love Saskatchewan.I have driven through Saskatchewan twice in my lifetime; once on a trip to Regina when I was twelve and once on a trip to Winnipeg. Both of these trips were national and world tournaments when I was a youth Handball player and I have fond memories of the drive through the flat prairies. My fond memories are, of course, a reimagining of what the drive was actually like being that I was, at the time, a particularly sullen teenager that didn't like to do anything except read books.
Most vacations we took as a family had very carefully arranged pit-stops visiting second-hand bookstores in various small towns in B.C. and Alberta. The rest of the family would get out and explore and take pictures with The-World's-Largest-Thing the town was famous for, and I would sit in a sweaty car or motorhome grumpy, reading and alone. But that was then and this is now and I am sure I am (probably) less grumpy and I am looking forward to re-experiencing some Sachuwa things with our family.
For one, I am looking forward to the waterfall rustle-y sound of the wind blowing through the prairie grasses (wheat? hay?). It is the driest sound you will ever hear and it sounds like a tiny waterfall in a far-away canyon. I am also looking forward to hearing an owl in the wild.
One time at our relative's farm, I heard an owl hooting like I was in a Hinterland Who's Who commercial. Although I hear that they do live in Prince George, I have not heard an owl since.
My clearest memory about our visit to the northern Saskatchewan farm of my ancestors is how surprised I was that the landscape changed without you noticing.Once you had been in the province for a few hours and you have gotten over the shock of not seeing a forest or a mountain, you start to notice the rolling hills and stunted, wind-blown trees but most of all, the sky is so vast and overwhelming that your chest hurts from all of the space. I grew up surrounded by trees and exploring open spaces the size of school yards and packing lots.It is excruciatingly lovely to be the only person as far as you can see.
There are a few drawbacks about travelling on the open roads of our prairie province which include their lack of "Viewpoints" that you can pull in to look at interesting things and to find a bathroom.
We are travelling with a three-year old who "has to go real bad" every 23 minutes on a road trip so we will need to plan our stops carefully. Driving in northern Saskatchewan is an adventure.The speed limit is ridiculously fast and the highways are littered with road kill, in particular, giant birds-of-prey. You would think that in my lifetime of seeing all sorts of majestic Canadian creatures in various states of decay on BC highways, that the large dead birds in the prairies wouldn't bother me. However, I am used to seeing hawks, ravens and eagles soar in the clouds high above me, not dead alongside of the road. It's a large, mostly-flat province. Wouldn't the birds choose somewhere else to sit so they don't get hit by cars? I am sure that Saskachewanians are equally as appalled at our dead moose and deer.
In the meantime, I am brushing up on my Sask-slang and I hope that while I am visiting that I have a chance to go out for rip without hitting the rhubarb. And although I am not too fussy about beer and clam, I am willing to give it a go.
