This is part five of a seven part series about my trip around Alberta.
It was a stunner of a day, perhaps the best day of the trip. Summer’s last hurrah before letting winter take over. I had finally found the rhythm of the trip: wake up, get ready, drive, picnic, run, rest, find the hotel, write, sleep. I had a long drive ahead, but I was looking forward to this one.
I saw the trains as I left Wainwright and thought of mum falling asleep to their sounds. I think it’s like my attraction to the highway echo. Not the inner city highway echo I have now, but the echo of a highway in the distance. Growing up on (what was then) the outskirts of town, highway echoing into empty air with the next city hundreds of kilometres away.
The harsh sun directly overhead made for crispy grass in the fields. The province was getting flatter now; also yellower, drier, and hotter. I stopped in the ghost town of Rowley. It wasn’t long before I came across a nice picnic spot in front of three old grain elevators. Across the street was a barn that was 100% haunted.
Driving south on Highway 839 was beautiful. It’s the rolling hills style of Alberta that I love. A mix of green and yellow with small bushes and the odd tree. Ponds everywhere.
I passed by Bleriot Ferry although a crossing wasn’t necessary today. The west side of the Red Deer River was where I needed to be. It was a pretty looking ferry, and more Covid-official than the Klondyke Ferry was a few days ago. Up the road was Orkney Viewpoint which lived up to dad’s sales pitch.
The badlands were wonderful as always. They are otherworldly, but an antipode to the otherworldliness of the Columbia Icefields. Dinosaur Provincial Park was up next. I made a brief stop at the top of the valley and stared into the bowl. I hadn’t planned to run here, but now it felt like something I needed to do.
The trail was energizing and reminded me why I love to run. Since my running has been focused on goals, getting faster, improving form, etc., I had nearly forgotten the pure joy I get from moving through the world at a relaxed pace. These extra kilometres were an opportunity to run free. I did some off-roading and then found an interpretive trail that felt an awful lot like running on the set of The Lion King.
Back up to the top of the valley I had a chips and guacamole snack break. In an extra special gesture, I had the one remaining can of pop I had been saving for the right moment. Now felt like the right time.
It was a well timed snack because my makeshift refrigerator in the trunk was failing. It had been a few nights without a hotel freezer and the ice packs hadn’t been able to cool down enough.
I said goodbye to the provincial park and drove to Medicine Hat. Golden hour was imminent. I took another car selfie along the way and marvelled at the sun setting to the west of me. The hills were rolling which gifted me 10, maybe 15, sunsets in one night. The sun would dip behind a long hill, then reappear later on as the hill mellowed out.
Turned onto the TCH for the last big stretch of the day’s drive. Streetlights, headlights, and taillights smeared by. The city lights in the distance looking like a galaxy of stars. Medicine Hat is a hot city, and it has that hot-city-at-night smell that I love dearly. A combination of restaurant food, A/C, exhaust, pavement, rubber, earth, and other things that are more than the sum of its parts. I’m not doing a good job selling it, but it’s emblematic of a hot summer and nights that shouldn’t end.
The hotel was the nicest I’d ever stayed in. I was overjoyed to see a freezer for my ice packs. I snacked, watched the hotel TV (which had a welcome channel customized with my name), caught up on messages, sorted photos, and wrote. Yep, I had found the rhythm of this trip.
This is part five of a seven part series about my trip around Alberta. Check out the next part.