“Bill, you’re exhausted.” Quoth Mrs S this morning. She’s feeling much better and much more like her usual self. On the other hand, the heat and long hours of the past few days have finally caught up with me and given me a sharp slap on the back of my head for being such a dipstick and trying to do everything. I was already fatigued after something like ten continuous days on the road, but now I’m completely out of gas and in need of serious rest.
The problem is, I can’t stop. Despite hitting the wall last night and flaking out, now the crises of Mrs S’s tooth and the need to get to Calgary are done it’s like my internal flywheel is still spinning at 10,000rpm. All my nervous energy is still spinning in circles and can’t stop whilst all my bodily particles chorusing; “Pack it in Bill. We’re knackered.” This is not fun.
Right. Calgary. What can I say? Fast growing town. Houston of the North. Not quite as big as Vancouver, but catching up. They also call roads ‘trails’ here, which can be a bit confusing, but all you need to know is the Deerfoot trail and the Trans Canada and you’ve pretty much cracked navigating your way around the city.
The Stampede, which rather overshadows Wimbledon this side of the pond, is in full stamp. While players whack their balls over nets at over a hundred and twenty miles per hour in a suburb of London, Calgary is (Mostly) a Rodeo festival with people (Sometimes literally) taking bulls by the horns, having whip rounds and displaying huge amounts of balls riding bulls and horses which essentially don’t want to be ridden. Also racing chuckwagons, which, I’m reliably informed was the original attempt to create fast food. Of course there are also lots of people wearing hats which should be renamed one and a bit litres rather than ten gallon and going “Yee-Haw!” at inappropriate moments. Ten gallons indeed. Three pints more like. Then there’s the country music festival which at last glance was devoid of any names I recognised (Apart from Alabama and Meghan Patrick), but that means nothing. My wife is the country music fan, I’m kind of ambivalent about the whole milieu. Apart from Steve Earle. But I do claim a virulent allergy to line dancing. Sorry, just can’t do it. My legs are all wrong and me bums not the right shape.
However, there are parades, breakfasts, and someone’s even worked in some trail motorcycling events. So there’s quite a lot going on. Of course ticket prices are high, but what the hell, this is something you only do once or twice in your life, unless you’re a real rodeo diehard or one of the competitors.
Oh yes. Did I mention it’s been raining? That Alberta has nicked all of British Columbia’s rain this year? Something to do with trying to see all the Provinces get to share each others weather. Ergo we’ve got to run the gauntlet of some serious wildfires in the next few days on our way home. Not that we’re worried because most of the big fires are in mid BC on the route we took east. We should miss most of the fun and evacuation risk because we’re heading West on the Southern route (Mostly) along Highway One.
Notwithstanding. That is a day or so ahead. Tonight I need to rest, properly.