I’m not prepared for this walk. Maybe that’s okay. I’ve always thought that the best way to get ready to do something was to do it. I did try a similar walk a few years ago, and it didn’t work out. But I learned from that experience. My pack is lighter, and my route is easier. So I’m hoping this time it’s different.
A cold breeze was coming through the window this morning, and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I won’t be sleeping in my own bed for almost two weeks. But it turned out to be a warm day–almost hot–with few clouds: perfect weather for walking. I’ve walked this way before, but nothing is ever the same twice, is it? There’s a new bridge over the Bypass, and although it isn’t finished, I ignored the “road closed” signs and walked across. Nobody tried to stop me. And just a few kilometres from Pense, a farmer stopped his pickup truck and gave me a cold bottle of iced tea. “This is what you need,” he said. He was right.
And the pub/hotel is open, with Rebellion on draft and a room for the night. What else can you ask for?
Of course, the road was the same arrow-straight gravel trudge between fields of barley and lentils and flax and canola, but that’s normal here, where the land was divided according to a plan invented in Ottawa. It’s an industrial landscape, completely remade in the past 140 years. I can’t complain about that, because it’s what defines our economy, and is the reason settlers are here. But still, ghosts of what was are there if you look: asters and wild rose beside the road, ducks in the sloughs, gopher holes. It feels impoverished, but who am I to say so?
You can see the Pense grain elevator 15 kilometres before you finally reach it. The land is so flat, and the sky so large, I swear I could see the earth’s curvature.
Oh, yes. I’m walking to Wood Mountain as a sort of pilgrimage in honour of Andrew Suknaski’s book Wood Mountain Poems. It’s the only book I’ve brought with me and I’ll be reading it along the way–particularly on those days when I find myself wild camping behind some caragana someplace. There will be many hours to fill before it’s dark enough to lay out my bivvy sack and try to sleep.
But not tonight. I’m tired, the CFL game is on, and the beer is cold. Soon I’ll repair to my room for a nap, and then I’ll have the privilege of eating someone else’s cooking. That won’t happen tomorrow. Stay tuned.
I came inside because Annemarie told me you posted! I thought she was referring to your post a couple of days ago so we went around in circles until it became clear that there was indeed a new post today. I was waiting for this! A good first stage Ken. Always nice to get it behind you after all the preparations and overthinking that’s just part of the process. Now you are underway and can begin to find your rhythm. Hey, a cold beer, a football game, a meal and a soft bed is a pretty good way to start! Your comments brought back many memories of my early years in Calgary where gophers on untouched parts of the prairie were so common. Will be interested to see what else you discover and relate to us as you go. Have a comfortable evening and enjoy that beer amigo! Buen wanderings!
Geoff
What a rich description of your first day of walking, Ken – old and new, familiar and strange, harshness and hospitality. Here’s to that beer and a comfortable room and bed. Cheers, Neil
enjoy that beer and the CFL game! Thinking of you walking across the prairie, and looking forward to joining you out there soon! Good walking!