Trip to Canada--part I

by Cynthia MacKinnon-Morris

We've been home almost a week now and are slowly getting stuff back to normal. It still seems strange to be able to walk about without first making the big decision: can we afford the time to stop and take a stroll out to the viewpoint? Our trip was a hectic one for the most part; we drove 2500 miles in four days on the way to B.C. and then 2300 miles in 3 days on the way back (we took a different route on the way home and the last day, drove through the night to get home at 5 a.m.).

Our focus was to get to B.C. as quickly as possible so sightseeing was a secondary concern. We traveled north through Chicago into Wisconsin, then west through Minnesota into South Dakota.
One of the side trips we took was along the 31-mile drive of Badlands National Park. This part of the Badlands was an amazing sight. The flat and treeless grasslands of South Dakota seem to go on forever but as one nears, the grasslands stop abruptly and plunge into the escarpment. Wind and long-gone rivers carved out the shale that the Badlands are made of. The buttes and pinnacles are striking, but more so are the hues of pinks, sand, gold set in layers of this 2000 foot band of shale. The delicate nature of the shale means that erosion continues to the present day and fossils of extinct animals are still found today. The most prevalent flora we spotted was cacti with bright sunny yellow flowers. Of course, the area is also infamous for the Wounded Knee Massacre where a large group of Lakota were killed by the army in 1890. The Badlands are also the site of the "incident" at Oglala and the wrongful imprisonment of Leonard Peltier--a modern day tragedy of government against Native Americans. You might like to visit the website http://www.spiritisup.com/sundancerinbondsbl.html to learn more, as well as watch the movie "Incident at Oglala."

Okay, on with our story. This section of South Dakota is amazing in its beauty at the same time as being crass to the nth degree. All along the road sides (we travelled the I90) were billboards--as far as the eye could see. Scott remarked that there were so many billboards that if one tried to read all the signs on one side of the road, one completely missed the signs on the other side. Another very gaudy feature was downtown Wall, which, I might add, was responsible for at least a third of the tacky road signs. Wall Drugs is the feature of this town and it is nothing more than one H U G E tourist trap/ glorified souvenir stand. We made the error of visiting it for the express purpose of purchasing film--at 2x the cost of a store in the next town. Even more coarse was a little town at the base of Mt. Rushmore. It put me off (I was driving) to the point where I wasn't at all keen on doing more than a quick drive by of Mt. Rushmore, which I had always dreamed of seeing. It was dusk and I did not feel like stopping to pay a $8 parking fee in order to get 80 feet closer to the monument. It was, however, a sight that I am glad I didn't miss. Amazing the work that went into this large scale carving. I am probably one of only a few who hope that R.R. does not get immortalized here as well.

The next day we drove out of S.D. cut kitty-corner across Wyoming and into Montana. While in Montana, we visited a totally different sort of souvenir shop, one run by the Crow: very tasteful goods found inside a unassuming building. Most of the wares inside related to the Battle of Little Bighorn. I had heard of it of course, but knew no details. It was most refreshing, I must admit, to see/ hear of this story after the previous day's "Wounded Knee." However, taken in chronological order, I found that "Wounded Knee" was viewed as revenge/ retribution for the civil war hero, Custer's, shame and death. Sort of burst my balloon.

The day's drive took us through some incredible territory in Montana--not the flat, bare land I had expected, but beautiful rolling hills, snow fences, big sky and grassland. We even hit the tailend of a great hailstorm. As we drove out of an urban area, we noticed a car flashing her/his headlights: cop ahead, or radar we assumed. Suddenly, around a corner we spotted the cop, on foot in the right lane waving his arms like a madman. We figured an accident ahead. Then we hit the hail. Traffic was backed up and moved at a snail's pace: the hail that lie on the roadway was several inches deep but spanned only a few hundred yards. We never got hail like that in the Fraser Valley! Into Idaho for a short time and then, late Monday night, we hit Spokane, WA where we spent the night.

Wednesday morning we set out early; eager to start out each morning, the Mave had taken to reclining on the dashboard--her version of navigating I suppose. When she wasn't reposing in her Pet Voyage (pronounced the French way!) case, or perched with her nose pressed against a window (if her Mommy had thought to wash one for her), she road on the dashboard. I had the bright idea of avoiding the I90 and the worst part of the I5 as we neared Seattle. We could take the back roads! And so we did...right the way into Sumas as it turned out--and an hour longer than it should have, to boot! Mavis showed her weariness as she soon fell asleep "at the wheel."

Once at the Canadian border, we were primed for all they could give us. We had Scott's documents, Mariah's birth certificate and letter from the mother, Mavis's documents and my passport. All for naught. The customs officer didn't even notice the Mave, let alone question the fact that I was driving a US registered car with a minor in the back. Oh well, better to be prepared than have Scott et al spending their vacation in a holding cell.

We were very excited to be home and my Mom and Dad welcomed us at the farm. We were to spend a nice relaxing time of the next week on Nicomen Island.