Super, natural British Columbia

Friday, June 15, 2007

FERNIE, BC — Tonight the vista from any one of our trailer windows reveals glorious, snow-capped, rocky mountains. We are camped right in the middle of this small town, across the street from the arena and down the way from the Subway restaurant. Fernie is a mecca for skiers in winter, and for cyclists, hikers and fishing enthusiasts in summer. We took a stroll through the town, and it is small!
We had a leisurely start this morning in Shelby, Montana (not like some of our neighbours; I could hear them driving past to the highway at about 6:30 or 7 a.m.!). Our departure routine involves stowing away everything that’s loose inside the trailer, from the toothbrush holder (stash it in the basket under the sink) to the dining room chairs (secure all four together around the legs with a bungee cord), pulling up all the blinds so they don’t swing around on the road, pulling in the two slide-outs (by hitting a switch on the wall) and bracing them with aluminum poles as a mechanical insurance that they won’t slip out accidentally en route.
Outside, we reel in the electrical cord and water hose, fold up the stairs and shut off the propane. Then we open the truck tailgate and Val performs the exacting task of backing the truck so the hitch opening aligns with the tiny fifth wheel pin, which is the single contact point between the truck and the trailer. If all goes well, the hitch will clamp around the pin on the first try. (For many husband-and-wife traveling teams, this and other trailer manoeuvres can be a good test of a marriage.) Then we can retract the jacks, lower the full weight of the trailer onto the truck, and collect the chocks from the wheels.
We have a laminated checklist that we go through each time we do this so that nothing is forgotten. Our last item is for me to stand at the back and let Val know if the left, right and brake signals are working. Then we can hit the road!
We had a bit of a wait at the Canadian border, but no problem getting back into our homeland. They asked us at both borders, Sault Ste. Marie and this one in Coutts, AB, whether we had $10,000 or more with us. I’m thinking, if we had that kind of free cash with us, our driver would be wearing a tux and jaunty cap and we’d be sipping champagne in the back seat, but that’s just me.
We drove north to Lethbridge, passed Fort Macleod where we’d taken the kids in 1992, and saw the signs for Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump, although we didn’t go there this time. Then we headed for Crowsnest Pass, the famous route that allowed the railway to reach all the way to the Pacific coast. Our route paralleled the tracks most of the way and afforded some breathtaking vistas.
Even before we got to Canada we could see the Rockies on the horizon. Driving through the pass, we felt their full impact working its magic on us once again. Such grandeur! We saw a number of windmill farms in the area, where huge white three-armed turbines stood reaching up for gusts of wind to turn them and generate power. They are really tall when you get up close to them.
For the third day running, we have no Internet. Service is down for the whole area, we were told, so even cruising around for a connection would be a waste. So we’ll post when we can.