Saskatchewan Road Trip

Rewind back to 2002. I’d been married for almost a year and had no kids.

We went on a road trip to Saskatchewan in August of 2002.

Most of his extended family members are farmers, and we stayed on a dairy & beef farm while we were there. Either that, or a mammoth grasshopper farm. It was really exciting! This was my first time on a real farm! A calf was born seconds before our arrival!

I learned plenty of things about cows on this trip from 2 of the family farms:

1. They come when they are called, especially when food is involved.

2. They all have names, and their names have to start with a specific letter, depending on your farm (I think that’s how it goes, it’s been over a decade)

3. They get milked by machines. I know, I know. Ignorant city girl.

4. They are scary. If you’re in a field with them, they’ll follow you when your back is turned. But if you spin around and look at them… they freeze. It’s like playing “Go, go, go, STOP” with a pack of thousand pound beasts. Shudders.

Although fascinating, learning about cows was not the purpose of the road trip. It was to attend Colin’s cousin’s wedding.

The wedding ceremony itself was a beautiful event, but what really sticks in my mind is what happened at the beginning of the reception.

At dinner time, we bowed our heads for prayer. Then, the most shocking and beautiful thing happened! More than 200 Mennonites simultaneously sprung into gorgeous 15 part harmony and sang the doxology as the pre-dinner prayer:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow,

Praise Him all creatures here below,

Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts,

Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

As they belted their praise with closed eyes, I looked around nervously like I missed the memo instructing everyone to do this. I also couldn’t find the lyrics written anywhere! I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve been a Christian since I was 5 and I still did not know the words. (We have since Mennonite-ized our own family, and sing this several times a week for our dinner prayers, although it sounds N-O-T-H-I-N-G like it did in Saskatchewan!!)

Apparently one of the requirements of living in a Mennonite area is that you must be musically endowed, as the reception was almost like a concert. Many guests presented musical numbers throughout the evening and into the wee hours of the morning. Just beautiful!

We got back to the farm about 2 am. This should have been ok. A 23 year old without kids should be fine staying up so late.

But the next day had a mind of its own…

We woke up at 4 am (after about 2 hours of sleep) and drove to a nearby town to meet one of Colin’s old fishing buddies who had moved from the Coquitlam area to Saskatchewan several years earlier. Let’s call him Bob.

Bob planned a fishing day for Colin and himself, and I kinda tagged along. Being a newlywed, I suppose I was still in the phase of pretending I liked fishing. Or maybe I was afraid of being alone on the farm with the cows?

We drove for HOURS to get to this lake. We were more in the middle of flipping NOWHERE than I’d ever been in my life. I thought we’d hit the Northwest Territories border when the announcement was made that we were almost there.

Shortly thereafter, we saw a cat. A HUGE cat. I couldn’t believe my eyes! It was a lynx! It was creepy the way it sauntered across the road with confidence, making no effort to quicken its pace for us.

Yay! I saw a lynx!! Yay! I’m fishing in… lynx… territory!?!

Fishing was… well, fishing. We caught stinky and slimy fish, much different than ones on the coast. We even used different lures: the 5 of diamonds. Why I remember this, I don't know. This is classified as "useless information" that I would prefer to delete our of my memory bank to make room for something more interesting. 

We fished allllll day on the cold and windy lake. I learned how to pee out of a boat because the men don't want to go to shore. Useful skill.

Dinner hour has passed and we were starving. But have no fear! Bob has dinner planned for us! He takes his camp stove out of his truck and makes dinner on the side of the lake. He makes us fish. Juuuust fish. A big ol’ plate of Northern Pike coated in Fish Crisp (a.k.a. Shake-‘n-Bake for fish).

It’s getting dark so we start the long drive back home. There was no moon out that night, and no street lights, since we are, let me remind you, in the middle of nowhere. I am totally exhausted and looking forward to sleeping the whole way back when all of a sudden… everything goes black. Everything. 

The headlights, dashboard lights…every light in the truck stops working. Bob can’t see a THING. He makes it to what may, or may not have been the side of the road and diagnoses that the fuses are blown. He fiddled for awhile, but no luck. We were without any type of driving light in a situation where you can’t see your hand in front of your face.

Bob is quite adventurous/calm/crazy, so he decided to keep going, despite the fact that he couldn’t see:

-          the road

-          animals to avoid

-          any street signs he may need to turn at

Luckily, there was no oncoming traffic at that location and time, because they wouldn’t be able to see us coming.

Somehow, using the different textures and sounds of ‘hard road’ vs ‘gravel road shoulder’ as a guide, he *slowly* inched his way back into town. It turned our 4 hour trip into a panic-stricken, white-knuckled 6 hours or more.

At 2 am, we return (miraculously alive and unscathed) to his house and say our goodbyes.

Utterly spent (physically and emotionally), we start driving back to the farm. All of a sudden, bright green swirls cover the sky. The Northern Lights!?!

Thanks, God. Your timing is impeccable. Could’ve used these a few hours ago!

We pulled over, turned off the car, and allowed the beautiful display calm our nerves.

Next time, I’m staying at the farm. I’ll take my chances with the cows.