Attending the 5th Annual Willow Bunch farmfest

This afternoon L and I joined up with C&C, Laura, and two ladies I met on the wagon train to attend the 5th Annual Willow Bunch farmfest, an outdoor concert put on by the musical Campagne family. Of all the acts, I best recognized Carmen, a popular French-Canadian children’s folk singer.

The event was so much fun! The music, a good mix of anglo and franco tunes, was excellent. I enjoyed listening to all the French chatter around us. L loves going to music festivals and had a blast.

For dinner, there was the option to buy ginormous grilled bison burgers with sides of coleslaw and wild rice salad. Charles had me try his burger and to my immense surprise, it was nothing like beef, which is gummy, rolls around in your mouth, and leaves a lingering taste. I decided to have one of my own!

For someone who doesn’t like red meat and who has had perhaps five portions of it total in the last fifteen to 20 years, eating that entire bison burger was quite a feat! It actually went down very well as the meat is very dry and crumbly and actually doesn’t have that much flavour. It is just very hearty. Dressed with tomato, onion, cheese, mustard, and relish, it felt more substantial than an equivalent-sized chicken burger. It wasn’t quite ‘yummy’ as I would have put some onion and garlic in the meat itself, but I really enjoyed it and had no trouble eating the whole thing. I’ll be danged! The venison on the wagon train went down well and now so has bison. Maybe I’m more of a game than domesticated meat person….

The only thing that spoiled an otherwise enjoyable evening was the weather. It was COLD, which is NOT normal for this time of year. Those of you who have read my blog for a while might notice that whenever I land somewhere, they have weather that is NOT normal. I may be cursed. 😀

No Place Like This on Earth

-I’ve always wanted to see the frontier.
-You want to see the frontier?
-Yes, sir. Before it’s gone.

The frontier is still out there, in southern Saskatchewan, wide open and free where people still live close to the land and the government can’t be bothered to meddle. A recurring comment this week was that we couldn’t show southern Saskatchewan to others, lest our frontier be overrun. In fact I was supposed to inform you that we flew to New Zealand and rode there! 🙂

My time on the wagon train was the stuff of dreams, Monday most especially as it was the only day I got to ride a horse.

Once I got a handle on him and felt comfortable, I stepped away from the wagon trail. As I set off, Caroline called after me that I was going to sunburn my teeth, I was grinning so hard! I sat loosely in my saddle, held the reins with two fingers of the left hand, and allowed my horse to gently lope up a hill.

At the top, looking down at the valley below, I gasped as I had read a description of this scene in countless books and seen it in at least as many movies. Below me was the wide open prairie with the only sign of civilization the tracks our wagons made in the long grass. And the wagons were there, too, a short column lurching their way through the rough terrain. All we were missing were the buffalo.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The wagon train is an annual event that occurs at various locations around southern Saskatchewan. This year, it was hosted by a rancher who lives just north of Grasslands National Park. As the crow files, the ranch is just 70KM from Haven, but just over 100KM by back roads and more than 150KM by main highways.

It took C&C and myself about two hours to get there on Sunday. Charles was driving their bus conversion pulling the horse trailer, Caroline was driving their truck pulling a flat bed trailer holding the wagon, and I was driving my truck.

We arrived early afternoon and set up camp. I had chosen to sleep in my truck all week, cook off the tailgate, and use my large tent as a change room and storage locker. This setup worked out great.

We had a communal supper on Sunday night, with the highlight being roast beef. I had a whole slice and a couple of bites! Beef isn’t that icky if it is VERY well cooked.

Monday morning was a little brutal since our hosts were offering a pancake breakfast at 7AM. Thankfully, Charles was our elected coffeemaker for the week, so by the time I was up and at ’em, he had some of the hot brew ready. I don’t think we made it to breakfast until past 8:00. Everyone was in slow mo!

After breakfast, I met my horse, Dusty, and walked with him for a bit before mounting. We set off mid-morning, three wagons and a few dozen riders.

I hadn’t ridden in five years but quickly grew comfortable with my mount, even though he was very green and skittish. Little did I know this would be my only day riding. His owner chose to ride him on Tuesday and, well, didn’t do nearly as well handling his new horse as I did. He fell off twice and while he wasn’t badly injured, he had to go home on Wednesday morning.

My knees were killing me by lunchtime Monday so I decided to try riding in C&C’s wagon for part of the afternoon. Well, that was a bad idea. There is no seat in the back so they set me up in a plastic lawn chair that twisted and threatened to launch me back into orbit. I was glad to get back on my horse even though I was sore! By the time we got back to camp, my right leg wasn’t even working any more and I stiffened up even more as the evening progressed. The pain was worth the day, though!

Since I was so stiff on Tuesday, I didn’t feel bad that Dusty wouldn’t be available. Charles put a hay bale in the back of the wagon for me to sit on and that proved to be a good idea. Riding in the wagon was quite a bit of sport and not nearly as much fun as riding a horse, but it was worth it just for the scenery!

And that’s how the rest of the week went, with me riding in a wagon. On Friday, I rode in someone else’s wagon, on a proper seat, but the rig was so springy it didn’t feel any more comfortable than did the hay bale.

The week was fun and scenic, that’s the best way I can put it. I love camping, I love pretty scenery, and I love camaraderie. The week had all of that. It was rather nice to be out of my element and listen to people talking about horses rather than sitting around discussing RVing.

C&C are wonderful traveling companions and I must not be so bad since they insist that I MUST go on next year’s wagon train with them!

We dined together every evening, sharing our food, and I even feasted on Caroline’s homemade venison spaghetti one night! I had more red meat this week than I’ve had in the last 20 or so years combined! They also made sure to have plenty of their delicious homemade wine with which to toast our days.

Their bus conversion has a toilet but no shower, so they cleverly turned a stall in the horse trailer into a shower room using a Coleman instant hot water heater. So Wednesday night, we all got a chance to wipe off some of the week’s grime, but were filthy again by Thursday. It was HOT this week!

It was really good for me to disconnect for a bit. I didn’t even have a watch. I went to bed when the sun dipped below the horizon and woke up at sunrise. The week was a good reminder that for all I’ve gained in my RV travels, I have lost something, too, and I need to start camping again.

Below are a few pictures from the week. I doubt that any of you want to see 500+ different iterations of southern Saskatchewan scenery and I also do not want to include any faces. But these should give you a taste of the week and make you rethink of your notion of what Saskatchewan looks like.

Preparing For a Time Machine Journey

“Some people say that there are no more frontiers left for us to conquer. But then again, some people still go out into the wilderness in search of their dream.”

I think that anyone who’s read this blog since the beginning knows I have a serious fixation on the late 19th century. There are two things I’ve always wanted to do that tie in to that era.

One was accomplished on 17th July, 2010, when I summitted the Chilkoot Pass.

The other will unfold in the next week. Tomorrow, I am traveling deep into the Saskatchewan grasslands, into the very heart of the prairies, and am joining a wagon train!

We will be setting up a base camp, traveling during the day, and returning to camp in the evening. This wagon train happens every year in different areas and sometimes they move camp each day, but this year the style is more that of multiple scouting expeditions. I don’t care how we do it. I am going to get to ride a horse and travel alongside wagons through the prairies!

When Charles and Caroline invited me to join them for their yearly gathering, it was planned that I would travel in their wagon or walk beside it. But a friend of theirs got wind that I know how to ride and has arranged for a part-time horse for me. So I will get to try all three modes of transportation.

This will be my first true vacation since the Chilkoot where I will have to disconnect completely. I’m not even bringing my iPad. The only concession to technology will be my digital camera. So check back Monday the 15th for news about my adventure!

A Day At the Farm

Today, Ms. Cinnamon drove me about 70 miles east, near the town of Celeste, to her friend Paul’s organic farm.

I am very cooked tonight (note to self, bring a broad brimmed hat for an afternoon at a farm!), but I had a lot of fun. I learned about some of the products they are growing, sampled some green stuff, got to clean chicken poop off freshly harvested eggs, and even herded sheep and their lambs! Unfortunately, I left my camera in the car for that, which was the highlight of the day. Dang! You’ll just have to believe me when I say that the lambs were really cute!

I was offered two dozen of the gorgeous eggs we collected and it was really hard to say no, but I don’t even make quiche or desserts with egg anymore, having conceded that I am likely allergic to eggs.

It was a lovely day of fresh air, sunshine, and wholesome food. Thanks, Paul and Ms. Cinnamon!

Dealey Plaza and the Sixth Floor Museum, Dallas

Visiting the site of a tragedy always makes it feel more real. I felt so closely connected to Jackie Kennedy’s day of horror while I toured the site of JFK’s assassination yesterday.

The Dealey Plaza site is very small and the grassy knoll absolutely unremarkable. I wouldn’t have given it a second glance while driving past had Ms. Cinnamon not pointed it out to me.

I’ve had for the longest time my own theories about the events of November 22nd, 1963 and thought that a visit to the site would answer many questions. In actual fact, I am left with more. The most important one is why? If we can answer that, then the who becomes self-evident.

The only thing that I am certain of now that I have stood on the infamous sixth floor and looked down is that a military sniper could have easily taken that first shot. Therefore, I believe I am correct that there was someone besides Oswald up there. One of the fingerprints up there has been tied to Marshall Wallace, who could have made that shot. This supports the LBJ had it done theory.

Another point raised by Ms. Cinnamon is that Jackie was heard yelling, “Oh my God, they shot Jack.” Not, “Jack’s been shot” or something along those lines, but they. There had been some open hostility about JFK’s visit to Dallas, so she might have been using ‘they’ to represent those groups. But there is material to be declassified in 2017 that purportedly proves that Jackie thought LJB was in on the assassination. Hmm.

The second shot couldn’t have come from the sixth floor, but would have been easy to make from the fence on the grassy knoll. Never mind how quickly the Warren Commission went with the idiotic lone gunman whacko with a magic military grade bullet theory. I believe in the two trained military snipers in two different locations to make sure they got him theory.

The efforts to resuscitate JFK by expanding the throat wound into a tracheotomy make it difficult to know for sure if that wound was caused by a bullet exiting (ie. came from the book depository) or by the bullet entering (ie. came from the grassy knoll). More recent analysis makes a case for it being an entry wound, but we likely will never know for sure.

The Sixth Floor Museum, which does not allow photography, is quite good as long as you take everything with a grain of salt. It is very sanitized and the audio guide format does not encourage any form of discussion. There is a movement to boycott the Sixth Floor Museum, but a visit is useful and the information is well presented. There is some acknowledgement of various conspiracy theories, but we always get back to the lone gunman Oswald in his sniper’s nest theory.

The motorcade route must be looked at with suspicion. It is a very tight and awkward turn from Houston onto Elm, so the motorcade slowed to a crawl, which awarded a perfect opportunity to shoot from the sixth floor. Why wasn’t the shot made while the motorcade was coming down Houston, which would have afforded a straight, can’t possibly miss him, shot? Well, there was that other sniper on the grassy knoll. They had to work practically in tandem. Had the shot been taken on Houston, the motorcade would have likely continued down Houston rather than turning onto Elm into the path of the grassy knoll shooter and the assassination could have failed. Croft got a picture of the view down Houston from the seventh floor but there was no such access yesterday.

Finally, the big questions, why Oswald and what was Jack Ruby’s real role in all of this?

As I said, more questions than answers were provided to me yesterday. But seeing the site really made the sequence of events clear in my mind. Sniper one on the sixth floor took the first shot, which was the cue for sniper two on the grassy knoll to take the second shot. Who hired the snipers is less certain. Certainly, the Warren Commission is a joke and an insult.