2012--Day 13

Day 13

O Canada!  After a very late night (3 am) highlighted by updating the blog, switching rooms (see day 12), and watching some very old Simpsons episodes on The Comedy Network, I finally fell asleep but had numerous waking dreams about subjects simultaneously delightful and disturbing.  As good as these beds are (and as good as this trip has been), I am looking very much forward to my own mattress and pillow.  Gustavo’s cell went off way too early, and we prepared for the morning briefing. 

Today and Monday are travel days, as we need to get back to Denver by Tuesday.  We checked out of our wonderful hotel (located conveniently across from the MTS Arena, home of the Winnipeg Jets, meaning it’s a good thing they’re not in the hunt for Lord Stanley’s prize) after taking some shots of the city views.  Gustavo expertly navigated the van out of its claustrophobic parking space and we were off.  Before leaving the city we sampled Canadian cuisine at a relatively famous donut and sandwich shop founded by a former Maple Leafs defenseman.  It was really good—shame we don’t have one that’s open 24/7 near the corner of Routes 19 and 31 in Brockport.  Oh well, when in Winnipeg, do as the Winnipeggers do.

We crossed the border back into the U. S. in a shorter amount of time than going the other way yesterday, but the return was decidedly more curt in tone.  The questions are followed in parentheses by the answers given by the voices in my head:

What are you doing?  (What part of ‘storm chasing’ confuses you?)

Why are you driving a Colorado-plated vehicle?  (We van-jacked it there.)

What were you doing in Canada?  (Looking for donuts, cheap legal weed and temporary companionship.  And storms.)

How are you all affiliated?  (We’re all congregants of the Church of the Vertical Rotation.)

How long were you in Canada?  (A week.  I mean a day.)

            Was it a week or a day?  (A weekday.)

Good thing Gustavo was doing all the talking.

We were asked to pull into the garage, where we were subjected to brief questioning by decidedly friendlier female agents, but nevertheless was not particularly heartened by the fact that they were putting on latex gloves.  At least they kept the lube in the drawer.  I had visions of them disassembling the van.  They enjoyed watching the cavalcade of students piling out of the vehicle (‘like a clown car’).  They seemed fine with our bizarre explanation (then again, firefighters run into burning buildings), and we were on our way.  A significantly cooler welcome than we received from their Canadian brethren—welcome to Dick Cheney’s America.

Driving south through eastern North Dakota we’re encountering some heavy rainfall.  I suppose it’s our own fault—after all, we did wash the van yesterday.  We also saw lightning, which brings the lightning days on the trip so far to at least 12 if not 13.

The weather lightened up considerably as we left Fargo, where we stopped for gas.  The place we went to was a small city in itself, with food and drinks, a restaurant, laundry, showers, and a movie theatre—in other words, you could almost live there.  It had more going for it than a number of the towns we passed through.  (I’m looking at you, Goodland, Kansas.)

On our way down US83 through South Dakota, I saw four or five pheasants walking along the side of the road.  Very cool looking birds, but since I was driving I couldn’t take any pictures.

We finally arrived in Pierre, SD around 10:15 pm, 583 miles, a state, a province and a country from where we started this morning.  We face another huge drive to Fort Collins tomorrow, and on Tuesday we trade the tiny confined space of the van for the tiny confined space of two aircraft.