It must be nearing Summer. The mossies and no-see-ums are beginning to make an impact on our hides despite copious anointments of bug repellent. Seriously, the little tinkers must be passing messages saying “Fresh blood, guys. Pile on.” Mrs S is suffering worse than me, poor lamb, and woke me around four this morning with a shriek when she twisted a muscle trying to apply ointment to an almost inaccessible part of her anatomy. Now she has to sit quietly to let the muscle settle, and my beloved does not sit still very well. Hi-ho. Unfortunately this means I have to do all the driving.
Well, we’ve crossed the Rockies and are well into ranching and oil territory. We missed a turn while admiring a Rocket III whoosh ahead, and because we didn’t realise our error for over half an hour and ended up driving for an hour longer than anticipated. Such are the grid patterns of Albertan roads. No biggie.
The one thing about crossing mile after mile of forest and pasture punctuated with the odd swamp is that it gets boring. Like with the Rockies, you can only take so much awesome in a day. I find when trying to stick to the 110kph (68mph) speed limit on dual carriageways such splendour gets more than a little dull. So much so that I start yawning, provoking a “Bill, you are drifting. Be aware.” from Mrs S, who paraphrased Omar Sharif’s famous line from Lawrence of Arabia at me with a playful slap. However, I got the joke, perked up, and an hour later we arrived safely at our hotel.
Anyway, tomorrow is a much shorter hike, with a planned stop off to do a little canoeing en route. Whether I end up doing all the paddling is moot. One thing is certain; those bloody mosquitoes will be trying to make a meal of us. Time for a trip to the drug store for more Deet, then.