The family reunion in Saskatchewan, a poor night out with the staff, sleep, the next morning off to Saskatchewan for the Boyle Family Jamboree. Were it just me I'd give it a miss, but there's the kids to consider (and they as well would give it a miss, but it's family, and they should know them). We set off, the grey, ragged skies of Calgary seemingly following us from Alberta, talk about the importance of getting gas before we run out, I've only ever run out of Gas once in my life, and a 5 mile walk with a Jerry Can taught me a lesson...
I thought. Past Swift Current the towns along the highway get smaller, we pass Chaplin and the Salt mines, the gas light comes on, not even a 100 KM to go...
...and there are no service stations. None. Just the bare and rolling prairie. After our conversation the boy and the girl are watching the guage anxiously, finally, a couple of old houses beside the road, an ancient gas pump, we swerve in...
...looking at the pump, it's not hopeful, 70 years old at least, no sign of a nozzle or hose, there's an older lady getting out of her car ... "Got Gas?" I ask, despite all obvious evidence to the contrary...
"Sure do." She replies..."Let me go grab you a can", And she goes into this little house, a makeshift diner, waiting, waiting...
After about 5 minutes she emerges with 5 empty plastic Jerry Cans under her arm, "Had a bit of a run on it..." she apologizes "But we might be able to squeeze enough out of these to get you to Caronport...it's only 40 KM up the road...when did your gas light come on?"...
There's a faint swishing of gas in a couple of the cans, we marry them, upend them one by one into the tank, marry them again, try again, 20 minutes work for a couple of tablespoons of gas at most...
"How much do I owe you?" I ask, not for the gas so much as her futile helpfulness and good intentions, "Nothing, nothing, come on in and have a coffee, brewed fresh this morning, sign our guestbook", and we have no choice, the boy and I, help her line up the empty gas cans beside her SUV so she can fill them tomorrow, go in for a coffee, small, character living room-cum-diner, sign the guest book..."You know, this town, it''s the home of Gainer the Gopher, where y'all from anyways?" and when I tell her Calgary she explains Gainer the Gopher to us, I know Gainer the Gopher, I lived in Saskatchewan long enough, it's the comically surreal small-town Saskatchewan, David Lynch couldn't cover it better, reminds me a bit of the squirrel lady from ratrace, we head off with our coffees again...
Drive slow, cautiously, optimizing the speed to mileage ratio, we wanna get to Caronport, count the kilometers, eventually, eventually, hold your breath, every kilometer in that direction is one less that we gotta walk, ...
And we make it.
Moose Jaw, the skies clear and the unbounded horizons, visit with family, short, we've arrived at the end of the reunion, dinner tonight, breakfast the next day and we're heading back, spot deer, antelope, a trio of badgers surfing through wheat, the daughter's impressed, she's never seen a badger before, finally Calgary again in the early evening, and now, perhaps, my vacation can begin...