Life On The Island

Monday
We drove to Falmouth, birthplace of Katherine Lee Bates who wrote America the Beautiful on Pikes Peak, and found the ferry terminal for Martha’s Vineyard. We rode the MV Nantucket across the sound and docked at Oak Bluffs just after 10:00.
After dropping our luggage at the Madison Inn, we took a bus tour of the island. The first celebrity name drop was Peter Norton at 87 Ocean Avenue, a house renovated in the 90s by Bob Vila and featured on his show.
Steven Spielberg filmed almost all of Jaws on Martha’s Vineyard, in Edgartown. This was the home of the island’s whale ship captains in the 1800s. Foremost among them was Valentine Pease, who once took Herman Melville out on a voyage.
Vincent House is the oldest on the island, built in 1672.
The permanent population of Martha’s Vineyard is 16,000 and it grows to 130,000 in the summer. The crush of people is so dense that cruise ships are forbidden to dock in July and August. A lot of the visitors are day trippers, however, and disappear at a quarter to five when the last ferry leaves.
MV sits atop a natural aquifer and has 150 fresh water springs and creeks that are replenished by rainfall. Most of the island, however, is considered dry–Edgartown and Oak Bluffs are the only towns that permit liquor sales. Restaurants in the other villages are BYOB.
The west side, "up island," is mostly agricultural. Don’t think, though, that you can just come in and buy land and start farming. David McCulloch, Walter Cronkite and Carly Simon are some of the people who can afford to buy Martha’s Vineyard farms.
Under Massachusetts law, beachfront property ownership is recognized to the low tide line so most of the Vineyard’s beaches are off limits to the public. Of 120 miles of coast line, more than 100 are privately owned.
After the tour, we walked around Oak Bluffs in and out of gift shops. Most were fixing to close for the season so they had specials on shot glasses and coffee cups and you could get a T shirt for two dollars.
We had dinner at Sharky’s and curled up in our bed afterwards listening to rain drops on the roof.
Tuesday
A 7:00 bus took us to Vineyard Haven where we boarded the trash boat, an unscheduled freighter that provides the earliest possible ride back to the mainland. We shared the boat with a garbage truck and a livestock trailer that was full of angry bull.
We chatted with a golf pro who manages a country club on the island whose membership fee is $350,000. He was on his way to his other job in West Palm Beach where he works seven months of the year.
We spent the rest of the day on Cape Cod driving to Provincetown, the first landing point of the Pilgrims. Someone has erected a 252-foot Pilgrim Memorial tower on a hill in the middle of town. I circled the parking lot and took a picture without having to get out of the car.
We stopped at the Cape Cod Lighthouse in Truro. It was jacked up and moved in 1996 to get back from the eroding cliff but it is still in Truro.

Down East

October 6, 2007
Saturday
We drove away from Bar Harbor hugging the coast all the way to New Brunswick. It was our wish to visit Campobello Island and, yes, it is in Canada. We did not anticipate that when we restocked our traveling wine cellar in Bar Harbor.
A Canadian Customs officer gave us a stern lecture about transporting alcohol across the border and let us go "this time."
At the Roosevelt Campobello International Park Edmund S. Muskie Visitor Center, we discovered that the island was named after the benefactor who gave it to Captain Owen, whose name was Lord William Camp(o)bell(o). Get it?
James and Sara Roosevelt brought their one-year old son, Franklin, to Campobello for the first time in 1883. James and Sara purchased four acres of land and built a three-story cottage in 1884. From that year until 1921, Franklin spent every summer on the island, sailing, hiking and picnicking.
In 1909, Sara Roosevelt purchased a neighbor’s 21-room cottage (you need lots of rooms when you have five children and six servants) and gave it to Franklin and Eleanor as a wedding gift. True to her character, she retained title to their home until she died in 1941.
It was on Campobello that Franklin contracted polio in 1921 and, after that, he visited the island only three more times during his life–in 1933, 1936 and 1939.
We drove from the park to the north end of the island. The tide was out so I was able to cross an exposed causeway and walk to the East Quoddy Lighthouse. Gail stayed at the picnic area and watched a Minke whale that the visitor center hostesses told us had been trapped for three days inside a fish pen.
Fishermen had enclosed an area with netting in order to hatch and raise bait fish. We noticed that the pen had a large opening to the sea that the whale was ignoring in favor of diving, sounding, cavorting and, perhaps, eating.
Returning across the International Friendship Bridge, we met a lady at U.S. Customs who had us open all the doors of the van so she could poke around inside. She became highly agitated at my pill dispenser and ordered us pull over for a more thorough search by a colleague. She threw a brochure into the car as I started the engine that she said would explain to me what I had done wrong.
It turned out that I needed to produce original prescription bottles. After I did that, everyone calmed down.
I’m glad that nobody found the pepper spray that I forgot we had in the console.
Sunday
We found out that LL Bean in Freeport never closes, staying open 24/365. At ten o’clock on a Sunday morning we could not find a parking space . We eventually parked a couple of blocks away and walked to the Flagship Store, past the Fishing and Hunting Store and the Hiking and Biking and Kayaking Store.
We found a few things to buy, stood in line to pay, and got out of there.
We drove through Kennebunkport at noon. The streets were thronged with people enjoying the great weather.
At the Lighthouse Depot in Wells, we found three buildings full of lighthouse stuff that we did not buy.
We watched baseball playoffs after supper. People around here are crazy about the Red Sox. I wish them well.

The Maine Thing

October 4, 2007
Thursday
We awakened to a deep-throated fog horn and the sound of water lapping on the shore beneath our window. Gail opened the door open and lit the fireplace and we watched ghostly boats bobbing in the bay.
After breakfast in the Reading Room (cinnamon apple crepes and lobster and havarti cheese omelet), we walked to Main Street and bought souvenirs and USA postage stamps. Then it was time for lunch so we got a lobster roll at Bubba’s and carried it back to the hotel and ate at a picnic table overlooking the water.
Mrs Davis needed dessert so we went to Ben and Bill’s, the original home of Bar Harbor’s lobster ice cream, for a cone of pumpkin pie and chocolate cherry chip.
At 4:00 we walked the Shore Path to the end and back, then had cocktails in our room and dressed for dinner.
The chef’s special dish in the Reading Room was lobster pie, so what were we going to do? At least he did not offer us lobster ice cream for dessert.
Friday
After another Reading Room breakfast, we took a 2 ½ hour bus tour of Acadia National Park, driven by Heather, who once worked at Anacapa Island National Park and even became pregnant and delivered her first child there.
Mount Desert Island is the third largest island off the each coast, after Long Island and Martha’s Vineyard. Locals pronounce it "Dessert" to mimic the French accent of Samuel de Champlain who named the island in 1604.
Verrazano wrote about these lands in the 1500s and compared them to the Acadian lands of Greece. That’s what Heather told us. I never heard of the Acadian lands of Greece and all I know of Verrazano is that he was both Strait and Narrow. (A little geography humor.)
We drove first to the summit of Cadillac Mountain, 1,530 feet high, arising straight from the water, the highest such rising north of Buenos Aires, according to Heather. Cadillac Mountain is the first place in the United States that the rising sun lights every morning, according to Heather.
Heather noted that a gull that flies over the sea is called a sea gull and a gull that flies over the bay is called a bay gull.
We looked down from the summit of Cadillac Mountain onto a cruise ship that arrived in the night and disgorged this morning 2,600 tennis-shoed, gray-haired geezers onto Bay Harbor’s sidewalks.
Heather told us Bar Harbor is named after the sand bar that is exposed at low tide and connects the town to Bar Island. You can walk across when the tide is out, spend some time and walk back. If you spend too much time, though, you have to wait six hours for the next low tide. Heather said it’s a great place to take a date.
Somes Sound is the only fjord on the east coast, that is, it has cliffs both above and below water level. It almost bisects the island.
A wildfire in 1947 burned a third of the island down to mineral soil and destroyed many summer homes. Birch, beech and maple trees are the pioneer species that have grown back since then. Eventually they will provide enough shade to promote the growth of spruce and fir, which is Maine’s climax forest, according to Heather. When they grow high enough, the hardwood trees will die because they are shade-intolerant. Eventually the spruce and firs will grow so thickly that their lower branches will die and become kindling for the next wildfire.
Rudolph Bruno built the High Seas, the only mansion that survived the 1947 fire. His childhood sweetheart in Germany agreed to marry him on three conditions–that he buy her a large diamond, build her a mansion on Mount Desert Island and give her a first-class ticket on the world’s most luxurious cruise ship, scheduled to sail across the Atlantic in 1912.
We stopped next at Thunder Hole, just a murmur today because the swells were small. The Labrador Current protects Maine from hurricanes. Cold water robs them of their energy but the coast is still hammered by giant swells during the season.
Heather told us about the many miles of carriage roads the John D Rockefeller Jr built to preserve the carriage industry on the island after automobiles began to encroach at the beginning of the 20th Century. As we passed the aromatic stable, she was reminded of an old song, "She was only the jockey’s daughter but all of the horsemen knew ‘er."
John D. Rockefeller Jr came here in July, 1908, and a month later his son, Nelson, was born on the Shore Path near the Bar Harbor Inn.
It was interesting to me that the original John D. and Cornelius Vanderbilt and their friends built summer homes off the South Carolina coast, on Jekyll Island, and their children went north for their summer homes, to Newport and Maine.
Jordan House was built in 1845 and is today the only restaurant in the National Park. It is also a starting point for many of the island’s trails and welcomes dogs to its outdoor tables on the lawn overlooking Jordan Pond. I guess anyone is welcome as long as they can pay the tab.
Jackson Laboratory is the number one employer in Hancock County and supplies three million mice a year to experimental laboratories all over the world. The lab is a pioneer in genetic research.
Heather told us that most of the town closes down for the winter after tourists stop coming here. Only a few businesses stay open–a motel, a bar, the supermarket and the one-hour photo shop.
After the tour, we went to The Thirsty Whale and had a beer and chatted with a young man who makes racing shells and kayaks that will be used in the Beijing Olympic games.
Back to our room, we dressed for dinner and went to the Terrace Grille for a Maine Lobster Bake. We expected to see Robert Goulet any minute, singing about June Busting Out All Over with a chorus of people clapping and throwing seaweed on the fire, but it was just us and a bunch of hotel guests sitting beside the water and feasting on fish chowder, mussels, clams, corn, potatoes, lobster and blueberry pie.

New Scotland

September 30, 2007
Sunday
We returned to Wood Islands to catch the morning ferry to Nova Scotia. No bridge toll for us.
The ferry departed at 0930 and arrived in Caribou at 1045. We drove up the west coast to Glenora, the only single malt distillery in North America.
We had lunch in the pub room to the music of a fiddler and guitarist in a performance optimistically billed as a ceilidh, which is actually a rather more exuberant Gaelic social event that includes singing, dancing and storytelling.
We toured the distillery and learned why Scotch whisky is important here. Twenty-five per cent of Nova Scotians are of Scottish origin, a result of the Highland Clearances that took place after the Battle of Culloden in 1746.
At the end of the tour, our hostess poured a wee dram of Glenora Gold, modestly priced at $79 a bottle. It tasted a lot like Scotch.
From Glenora, we drove to North Sydney and watched the departure of the overnight ferry to Newfoundland, checked into our hotel and prepared for the next day.
Monday
We finally succumbed to the call of Tim Horton’s, a ubiquitous Canadian version of McDonalds, for coffee and breakfast. It was better than McDonalds.
From North Sydney we headed up the east coast of Cape Breton following the Cabot Trail, past Ocean View Cemetery (as if it makes a difference). We took a ferry across St Anne’s Bay for $5, sharing the deck with an 18-wheel truck and a utility van.
We stopped at Cabot Landing Picnic Park which commemorates John Cabot’s landing on the Canadian shore on 24 June 1497.
At 10:52 am, we stopped at the end of the road in Capstick, at the northern tip of Nova Scotia. This was as far from California as we could drive, 6,527 miles from home, and from now on, every mile would take us back toward the Central Coast.
We passed a hostel in Cape North that looked friendly enough.
Le Gabriel in Chéticamp served an Acadian lunch. The restaurant is named after a character in Longfellow’s Evangeline, a story about the expulsion of the French from Nova Scotia in 1759.
More than an expulsion, it was ethnic cleansing. The English loaded the French inhabitants onto ships, men and women on separate vessels, and relocated them all over the world. Many Acadians migrated down the east coast as far as Louisiana, which was Spanish territory at that time. Spanish authorities welcomed the Catholic French settlers.
Later, small groups were allowed to return and to settle in dispersed villages. Fourteen families who were originally expelled from Gran Pré founded Chéticamp.
Tuesday
We drove to Halifax to sample the wares of Alexander Keith Brewery on Lower Water Street.
Alexander Keith arrived in Halifax in 1820 with a brewmaster’s license and a dream. Three thousand English troops stationed in Nova Scotia were entitled to a ration of a gallon of beer a day and no one in the province at the time made a potable brew. Alexander Keith filled the void and built the foundation for a brewing dynasty that survives today.
Our guides were young ladies dressed in 1863 costume who played the parts of lasses of the period and regaled us with stories and songs of Halifax in the middle of the 19th Century.
We had lunch next door at the Red Stag Tavern, haddock and chips and pints of ale.
Wednesday
This was our last day in Canada, a sad day leavened only by thoughts of things to come. We hit Tim Horton’s for breakfast, then the Atlantic Superstore for maple syrup, in case we decide to make a maple syrup pie for Thanksgiving.
We used the last of our Canadian stamps that we bought in Calgary three weeks ago to send post cards home.
Then we drove to Peggy’s Cove, a tiny town (population 40) perched on granite boulders at the end of a peninsula. Peggy’s Cove lighthouse is the town’s post office. Three tour buses were parked next to the gift store and lots of their passengers were on the rocks taking pictures of everything in sight. Seven more buses drove in on the narrow, winding road as we were leaving.
Outside town was a memorial to Swiss Air Flight 111, honoring the 229 men, women and children who perished off shore on September 2, 1998.
We drove south to Yarmouth to catch the Cat, a twin-hulled ferry that traverses the Gulf of Maine three times a week. On the way, we passed a sign that warned of a "Hidden Driveway," but we didn’t see it.
At Yarmouth we pulled into Rudder’s Seafood Restaurant and Brewpub, two of our favorite things combined in one place.
After lunch we lined up to board the Cat, along with 129 other vehicles and 501 passengers. On the main deck, we found a duty-free gift shop, a pizza bar, a movie lounge, a casino and a sports lounge.
It took three hours to cross to the U.S. at 55 miles per hours and saved us 750 miles of driving.
We docked in Bar Harbor, Maine, at 6:20, and lined up for Customs. The two hundred bus passengers had to debark and walk through the Customs line individually.
At 7:00 p.m. we checked into the Bar Harbor Inn. I mentioned my cousin’s name and the desk clerk gave us complimentary tickets for a lobster bake.

A Princely Island

Thursday
Prince Edward Island is 120 miles long and 459 feet high. Motorists can reach it either by ferry from Nova Scotia or by crossing the Confederation Bridge over Northumberland Strait. We drove across the bridge past a sign advising that the toll was $40.75 for two-axle passenger vehicles.
We pulled off at the end of the bridge to tour Souvenir Village and somehow missed the toll booth when we returned to the highway. I couldn’t find a way to turn the car around and we proceeded onto the island with heavy hearts and feelings of guilt.
Gail pointed out that all the vehicles we saw on the road had colored decals in the corner of their windshields and she convinced me that they were toll booth stickers displayed so the police will know who has unlawfully evaded payment. I decided that we should pull in to a police station to confess what we had done and pay the toll and penalty charges. But first we needed to have lunch.
We parked at Heritage Pub in Summerside and I checked the windshields of parked cars. The decals corroborated compliance with annual provincial vehicle inspection requirements.
After fish and chips and a beer, I no longer wanted to contact the police.
We went by The Bottle House Monument and stopped to use the washrooms. The lady behind the counter told us the history of the two bottle houses.
Back in 1994 she showed her dad a post card from a bottle house attraction that she visited. He said, I can do that, and spent the last four years of his life constructing two buildings out of bottles and concrete.
After he died, the family discovered that the railroad tie foundations that he used were expanding and contracting with the weather and causing the houses to crack. So the family de-constructed the buildings, rebuilt the foundations and put the bottles back together in the shape of buildings. They planted trees around them so they are no longer visible from the roadway, built a gift shop and went into business. Our hostess’ eldest son spent his summer vacation after college constructing a twelve-foot bottle out front out of bottles to catch the eye of passing tourists. It’s a little crooked and not quite symmetrical, but bottle-building probably wasn’t his major.
We actually did not buy tickets to pass through the trees and view the bottle buildings but I did buy a post card. I can show it to you if you want.
We drove from there to West Point Lighthouse and paid $2 to climb to the top. West Point is the tallest of the 82 lighthouses on the island, 72 steps, and the only one that provides overnight lodging inside the tower, two suites on the first level.
When we checked in to our hotel that night in Charlottetown, I overheard the desk clerk tell another guest that the bridge toll is assessed only one way, on cars as they leave the island.
Friday
We took a circular route around the north coast of the island on our way to Green Gables. Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Avonlea is actually Cavendish, the town where she lived when she wrote Anne of Green Gables. The house is a National Historic site restored to the period depicted in the novels.
We toured Green Gables, then the nearby site where Ms Montgomery lived with her grandparents. Eventually, we sorted the story out.
Lucy Maud Montgomery was brought to Cavendish by her father when she was an infant shortly after her mother died. Her father then went to live in Saskatchewan and remarried and Ms Montgomery was raised by his parents in Cavendish.
The house in the novels, Green Gables, was the home of cousins with whom Ms Montgomery did not get along but whom she visited on occasion. She made that house the home of Anne Shirley and her adopted family, Murilla and Matthew Cuthbert.
Ms Montgomery’s life paralleled Anne’s. She became a teacher at the local schoolhouse at age 16, cared for her grandmother until her death, then married the local preacher, raised a family and was eventually buried in the Cavendish cemetery with her mother and husband. Her descendants still live on the property in a modest home behind the gift shop.
We next stopped at the Cheese Lady, maker of fine Gouda, and bought some wheels of flavored cheese.
For our evening meal we drove to New Glasgow and bought tickets for a Lobster Supper, an island tradition that began as a church fund-raiser. We were served first chowder and steamed mussels, as much as we wanted, salads, then a lobster apiece and then our choice of pies and ice creams.
Meal prices were based on the size lobster we requested and the shellfish were put into the water to cook as soon as we sat down. Lisa, our server, told us that a 1-pound lobster takes 25 minutes to boil and a 4-pound Jumbo takes 55 minutes, which gives the diner more time to eat mussels and chowder while waiting.
Over on the wall they displayed Larry, preserved inside a shadow box, aged 23 years and weighing 19 pounds.
Saturday
On our way to the eastern shore of the island, following the Lighthouse Route, Gail found a roadside stand and bought a small pumpkin for our dashboard.
We stopped at Cooper’s Red and White Food Store for coffee. Gail did not find what she wanted and we were on our way out when Mrs Cooper asked if she could help. It turned out that she had a secret stash of cappuccino behind the counter and she fixed Gail up. She asked how we were liking PEI and she asked if we had tried the oysters. When I said we’d eaten a half dozen Malpeques, she invited us to the back where she shucked and handed me three fresh oysters from Belfast Bay. They were not fat, bland Pacific oysters. They exploded in the mouth with the wild flavor of the sea, a tang and a salty bite that almost made me weep with pleasure.
Point Prim Lighthouse was closed, locked and unattended. So was Wood Islands and so was the Cape Bear Lighthouse and Marconi Station. A sign told us that the radio operator at Cape Bear was the first person to hear distress signals from the Titanic as she foundered off the coast of Newfoundland in 1912.
At Panure Head, two young girls sold tickets and allowed us to climb 47 steps to the top of the lighthouse.
Last stop of the day was East Point.
At the eastern tip of PEI, three currents collide–Northumberland Strait, the St Lawrence River and the Atlantic Gulf Stream.
In 1882 HMS Phoenix was wrecked here and blame was attributed to the lighthouse location, a half mile inland.
That reminded me of a story about the battleship commander who was making his way through a thick fog. A light appeared dead ahead. He had his radioman send a message requesting that the other ship change course to avoid collision.
The response was negative.
The captain repeated, "I am a battleship, change course."
The replay came, "I cannot change course."
The captain repeated, "I am an admiral. Change course."
The reply came, "I am a lighthouse. Your call."
Gail asked at the gift shop why we were seeing so many for sale signs and houses that appeared to be empty.
The answer was that, for many, the older generation leaves their home and their children do not want to live on the farm. For others, it is the work.
Only fishers, farmers and medical workers can make an annual wage. Most other jobs are seasonal. Island services close in October and re-open in the spring.
Farming is a way of life that many young people are not willing to take up.
Fishing declines here as well as in the U.S. Japanese buyers pay fishermen $20 a pound for tuna but the season is short and the quota low.
Lobster fishers must make their annual income in May and June. This year the lobster season off the east end was bad and the lobster men licensed to fish there did not make their wages. Many of them have had to go to Alberta to work in the oil fields, but the word from there is that you should not go there unless you already have guaranteed housing or tent space in one of the oil camps. There is no housing available. And only skilled workers can afford to move there. Service employees will not make enough money to pay the high rent.

And Now For Something New

September 25, 2007
Tuesday
We negotiated the streets of Quebec and boarded the ferry for a 9:00 crossing of the St Lawrence River.
At noon we crossed into New Brunswick and were treated to the changing colors of autumn leaves as we followed the St John River to Woodstock.
Imagine our surprise to discover a fourth time zone. The Maritime Provinces operate on Atlantic time, except for Newfoundland, which has its own unique time zone that is a half hour earlier than Atlantic. That means that a Dodgers home game begins at midnight in St John’s. I wonder if they have many Dodger fans there.
We stopped along the way in Great Falls to observe the great falls in the city center, but unfortunately they were a trickle. We find that many Canadian tourist attractions close down after Labor Day.
We washed the car in Woodstock and chatted with the attendant. He has been to Florida for baseball and "burns" to see Nashville and he thinks that President Bush is doing the right thing.
Wednesday
We were up early and on the road to get to St John in time to tour the Moosehead Brewery. We made it in time for what our guidebook listed as the 10:00 tour but were informed that they have not given public tours for two years because of international security requirements.
We drove to the Reversing Falls Gardens and observed the phenomenon of the twice daily tidal flow from the Bay of Fundy that causes the St John River to reverse itself. Jet skis hauled tourists up the reversing falls and spun water brodies and we applauded them.
Even the excitement of watching water flow palls eventually, however, and we paid our bill and began driving up the Bay of Fundy.
Five miles east of St Martins we paid to enter the Fundy Trail Parkway, a seven-mile system of auto, bicycle and hiking trails along the coastal cliff above the bay. Big Salmon River lies at the end of the Trail and we watched a movie at the Interpretive Center there.
Big Salmon River was a logging town during the first third of the 20th Century, owned by the Hearst family as a source of wood pulp for newsprint. Randolph Hearst left his initials in the bark of a birch tree and the Hearst Lodge is open for public tours.
We stopped at the St Martin Caves Restaurant for probably the best fish chowder in the universe. Our timing was impeccable, just as the last of six tour buses left. They served eight tour buses the day before as well as an stream of taxis transporting passengers from the three cruise ships moored in St John Harbour.
After visiting O My Cod! gift shop, we continued north and wound our way through Fundy National Park to the Cape Enrage Lighthouse, a lonely, desolate, windswept point of land occupied only by a stream of tourists.
From there we drove to Hopewell Rocks Visitor Centre, arriving 40 minutes after closing time. God’s tide, however, pays no attention to bureaucratic operating hours, and we found a large crowd of vehicles parked outside the gate as people gathered to take advantage of the 6:30 pm low tide.
We walked a half mile to a stairway down the cliff and I descended to the ocean floor to take photos of exposed sandstone pillars. Six hours later, the tide would bring the water’s surface to a level 43 feet above my head.

New France

September 23, 2007
Sunday
Breakfast in our lobby every day was pastries, cereals, hard boiled eggs, cretons and cheddar doux. Cretons are small patties of pork paté. A day that begins with paté is going to be a good day.
François from Tour DuPont picked us up in the lobby to begin our City Tour. He told us that Quebec’s population is 700,000 and 95% are white, Catholic and speak French. One-third work for the government. They have a saying in Quebec–"I am Canadien, tax me. I am Québécois, tax me again."
They have snow from mid-November until the end of April. Pleasure boats moored in the yacht harbor must be taken from the water and parked on land each autumn. The St Lawrence river level fluctuates daily with the tide, from 12-22 feet even though Quebec is 400 miles from the Atlantic Ocean.
Samuel de Champlain was attracted to Quebec because it is the first place where the river narrows to less than one mile in width. Kebec is a native word meaning "narrows."
September 13, 1759, British General James Wolfe tired of lobbing cannon balls from Isle Royal into the city of Quebec and sneaked his forces up river where they landed on the 250-acre farm that belonged to Sir Abraham Martin, a Scot who married a Québécoise. The Marquis de Montcalm panicked when he saw the troops outside the walls of the Citadelle and sortied forth to attack. The Brits were regular Army with repeating firearms and the French were militia with single-shot rifles. Within 20 minutes, the issue was settled, though both generals lay dying on the battlefield. Thus is rendered the fate of nations.
After the city tour, we boarded a boat, the Louis Jolliet, named after someone who lived a long time ago, and cruised downriver to catch a sight of Isle Royal and Montmorency Fall, taller than Niagara but not as wide.
After disembarkation, we walked up Break-Neck stairs yet again and wandered about until we lit at Café Terrasse La Nouvelle for lunch. Gail had French onion soup and I had caribou stew. Our server sang a song about Rudolph as she served the stew.
We watched a street performer sing and play afterward at the UNESCO monument. He spoke in French and sang in English and shuffled in a circle with a drum on his back, a bell on his belt, a harmonica hanging before his face, all connected by cords attached to his feet and playing in rhythm to his shuffling gait. Then he asked for contributions from "rich Americans" but he asked in French so we ignored his plea and walked away.
We signed up for the 4:00 tour of Chateau Frontenac. The hotel was built in 1893 to accommodate railway traffic.
At the end of the19th Century, British Columbia asked to join the Dominion of Canada but the country required a trans-continental railway to make that practical. CPR built the railway but the cars of the time did not provide sleeping accommodations. The solution was to build hotels along the way for passengers to spend the nights during their travel across the country. The first was at Banff and the second was in Quebec.
The hotel was built originally with 170 rooms and has expanded over the years to 618.
In August of 1943, 2,000 guest reservations were cancelled without explanation. The reason was a meeting among Prime Ministers Mackenzie King, Winston Churchill and President Franklin Roosevelt in the Salon Rose to plan Operation Overlord.
After one of the meetings, a housekeeper picked up a folder that had been left lying on the table. It was a complete plan of the Normandy invasion. He turned the folder over to his supervisor and was given around-the-clock security until the operation was safely launched.
We toured one room, the Alfred Hitchcock Suite, named for the English film director who came here in 1952 to film I Confess. It is a two-level room with a circular staircase in the center and a secret passage out the back.
Monday
The old city of Quebec is built on a hill. Today we explored parts we had previously not seen. We walked across the hill to the Tourist Bureau where they had no information on the mural in Basse-Ville. The Musée du Fort was not operating its video presentation so we did not enter.
We walked down the hill toward the Fire Department (les pompiers) and shopped amongst the shops along the way. The fire fighters traded patches with us and went back to eating their lunch.
We walked around the base of the hill to Ville-Basse, up Break-Neck Stairs and back to the Frontenac for beers and snacks. Another late lunch at Aux Anciens Canadiens and back to the hotel to prepare for departure.

O! Canada

September 21, 2007
Friday
Montreal newspapers announced this morning that the Loonie had achieved parity with the Greenback. Canadian economists would like to give the credit to their robust economy but admitted that their dollar’s rise probably has more to do with the actions of America’s young President than with the oil-rich petro-sands of northern Alberta.
We left Pembroke as early as we could after a hearty breakfast in the breakfast room of the EconoLodge.
We passed through Ottawa mid-morning and Montreal at noon. At 3:00 we checked into Hotel Champlain in Quebec. Our concierge, Stephen, a polyglot, recommended Pub Saint Alexandre for French onion soup, good food and good beers.
I knew that Bernard was a saint and Louis was a saint but this was our first experience with a sanctified Alexandre. Stephen’s prediction proved true. We had a lovely dinner of soup, nachos, Stella Artois and Guinness. We also scored free pilsner glasses for ordering bottles of Pilsner Urquell during Happy Hour, l’Heure Joyeux.
The streets were alive with Friday night celebration. We observed costumed performers on stilts and one wearing pogo springs. Adagio combat dancers and masked dancers performed on the sidewalks behind upturned chapeaux. The night was also a celebratory call to free the streets from automobiles. It was nice to walk the streets without interference from motor vehicles.
Saturday
After coffee and breakfast in the lobby, we hit the streets. First stop was Cathedral of the Holy Trinity, the oldest Anglican church in Quebec.
Then we took the funicular to Basse-Ville on the waterfront and walked down Petit-Champlain, the oldest street in North America. This is where Samuel de Champlain built a trading post on July 3, 1608, which he named Saint-Louis, not Saint Alexandre.
We stopped at Le Cochon Dingue for cafés au lait at a sidewalk table, then toured Maison Chevalier, a museum reconstruction of a 1752 merchant house. It demonstrated the changing concepts of privacy and leisure as wealth accrued to the middle class during the 18th Century. Dwellings expanded from two rooms, one for cooking and one for sleeping, to individual rooms dedicated to games, conversation, reading and separate sleeping quarters for children and adults. Imagine the luxury of a room where a person could sit alone and read or write at a desk.
We walked up Break-Neck stairs to Chateau Frontenac, a 618-room hotel built in 1893 that dominates the Québécois skyline. The building was unfortunately surrounded at the time of our visit by scaffolding as the hotel and the city prepare for next year’s 400th anniversary celebration. Our tour guide next day told us that construction is going on all over Quebec. Commuters never know from day to day what streets will be closed for renovation.
We went into the Chateau to the St Laurent Lounge and sat at a window and drank beers and observed Saturday afternoon sailboats dancing on the Saint Lawrence.
Our server, Sebastién, told us that Quebec goes to minus 30 degrees during the winter and the river freezes to one meter. Ice breakers keep it open for commerce. The city runs on electric heat because Quebec’s electric rates are the lowest in Canada. They operate two great hydroelectric dams in the north that supply power as far as New York.
We dined at 2:30 at Aux Anciens Canadiens, housed in the oldest surviving house of Quebec, built in 1677. Gail had salmon in puff pastry and I had Lac St Jean meat pie with pork, venison, elk and caribou. Dessert was maple syrup pie, tarte au syrop d’érable et cr me fraîche.
After lunch we walked to the Citadelle at the top of Cap Diamant, the fort that British general James Wolfe besieged and conquered in 1759, eventually resulting in the transfer of New France to England. The Citadel is currently home to the Royal 22e Regiment of the Canadian Armed Forces.
From there we returned to the Frontenac via the Governors Promenade, a boardwalk constructed on the edge of the cliff looking down on the Saint Lawrence.

Back In The USAA

September 19, 2007
Wednesday
We arose early and drove 45 miles south to St Ignace to catch a morning ferry to Mackinac Island. The ferryman checked our luggage and directed us to a secure parking space and we boarded the 9:00 catamaran.
The boat took about ten minutes to cross the narrow neck of Lake Huron and we disembarked at the island’s main port with just a few other people who looked as if they were regular ferry commuters.
The local horse carriage concession persuaded the island government many years ago to ban automobiles on Mackinac so, instead of the noise and stench of gasoline engines, we were greeted by the sweet scent of horses and all of the things that one associates with horses.
The fire station was closed but a sign on the door directed us to Patrick Sinclair’s Irish Pub where three of the fire fighters work. Alas, they were out of patches to trade but did offer to sell us a $15 T shirt, "to benefit the department."
We took the island carriage tour and learned many things about Mackinac Island. Five hundred full-time residents live here. The largest employer is the Grand Hotel, open from May through October with 700 seasonal employees from all over the world. The Hotel owns 50-some buildings on the island that it uses for employee housing.
The Grand Hotel was built in 1887. Ground was broken April 1st of that year and the hotel opened for business July 10th.
We left the tour at noon and had lunch in the Tea Room of Fort Mackinac. The Tea Room is noted as having the best restaurant view in Michigan, looking down on the harbor and the hotel golf course.
From the fort we walked to the hotel and toured the stable, which houses a historic collection of carriages and buggies.
We checked in early and went to the verandah and sat for most of the afternoon writing post cards and reading the newspaper and observing Mackinac Strait.
After a while we walked down a stairway to the lawn and garden and to the Esther Williams pool. We chatted with a young lady sitting on the edge of the pool with legs dangling in the water. She was shivering and told us that they turn off the heat after Labor Day and the water temperature was 64 degrees.
After preparing for dinner, we went upstairs to the Cupola Bar, the highest point in the hotel, and had cocktails until it was time to eat. That could actually be any time. No reservations are required and there is no waiting. The dining room is easily large enough to accommodate all the guests at one time.
Our dinner was nice. We had five courses and did not finish our desserts, a fudge-covered pecan ice cream ball.
Afterward we took a demitasse of coffee onto the verandah and watched the half-moon play on the water with lights reflecting from the Mackinac Bridge. One of our dinner companions told us that water flows through the lakes at 5-6 knots headed for the St Lawrence River. We could see the current move in the moonlight.
Thursday
We called for luggage service at 7:15 and went to breakfast, crossing our fingers that our bags would be delivered to the correct ferry service at the right time and to the proper destination. A lot to hope for.
The breakfast menu was thorough. We ordered sparkling raspberry cider, melon berry Martinis, creamy white grits with maple butter, bacon and cheese omelet, a three-cheese quiche, smoked dill salmon, corned beef hash and sausage links.
After a brief sit on the verandah to enjoy sunlight sparkling on the strait, we walked into the village and toured a few more fudge shops before boarding the Arnold ferry. Our luggage was not on the luggage cart and the stevedore told us that it probably went over on the preceding ferry. We wanted to hear that.
We docked at 10:15 in St Ignace and found our luggage waiting. By 10:50 we were on our way back to Canada. The U.S. Customs line was backed way up halfway across the International Bridge but we waited only a few minutes to pass through Canadian Customs.
The trees in Ontario looked like glowing flames. It was hard to believe that we were still driving through Ontario after four days. It’s like driving from El Paso to Texarkana only prettier.
We finally arrived in Pembroke at 7:30 and showered and went to bed without supper.

Rhymes With...

September 13, 2007
Thursday
We spent most of the day driving to Regina, stopping in Hanley to fill up the tank at Prairie View Gaz. We received a free loaf of bread for filling up and, when he saw our license plate, he threw in two cups of coffee at no charge.
I spent some time calculating and converting to find out how much we pay for gasoline. We spent $61.89 CAD for 56.83 litres and that converts to $4.00 American per gallon.
We were surprised to discover that changing time zones did not result in a change of time since Saskatchewan does not recognize daylight saving time.
Friday
We reported at 1000 hours to the RCMP Heritage Centre, training depot for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
RCMP has six requirements for a Mountie–Canadian citizen, 19 years of age, clean record, willing to serve anywhere in Canada, high school graduate and something else. They are no longer required to be able to ride a horse, be male, speak two languages or achieve a minimum height.
The government receives 6,000 applications annually and selects 2,500 recruits. Depot training lasts for six months and a class graduates every Monday.
The depot is located on 700 acres and used to be ten miles west of Regina. Most of the area is used for scenario training.
We toured exhibits in the Centre and watched a 30-minute movie, then walked to the parade ground to watch the daily Sergeant-Major’s parade. Traditionally this is the daily roll call used to account for those present and to identify deserters, whom the Sergeant-Major is responsible to find and punish.
After that, we went inside the chapel. It was built in 1873 and is the oldest building in Regina. It was originally a bar and sold beers two cents cheaper than the bars in town to try to keep recruits from straying off depot.
Next to the parade ground we paused to honor a cenotaph that burns with an eternal flame and displays divisional flags that honor 218 policemen who have lost their lives in performance of duty.
Saturday
Today was an all-day drive, relieved by a sighting of a herd of caribou two hours east of Regina.
We arrived in Winnipeg at what we thought was 2:45 pm but was actually 3:45 because Manitoba does recognize daylight saving time.
Sunday
We drove to The Forks, a park at the confluence of the Red and Assiniboine rivers, a place that was important to the trade of the First Nations and has since become important to the trade of Winnipeg.
First stop was the Sugar Mountain Express, an unrailed boxcar filled with candy displays. The Forks Market next door was more interesting–a combination farmers market, strip mall and swap meet, indoors in what used to be a railway station.
I bought an elk smokestack, a Slim Jim made of elk meat, and a Jim Morrison lapel button.
We walked along the river on a trail that Mrs Davis believed was not meant for tourists and eventually arrived at the Alexandre Avenue dock. There we boarded the River Queen for a scenic tour along the Red River.
We sat on the promenade deck next to a tableful of Red Hat ladies and cruised first upriver, then down river, then back to the dock, where the captain practiced landing until he got it right. Please, God, don’t give him an airplane.
Monday
We took a long travel day, up shortly after midnight and on the road to Marathon. We left Manitoba and watched a scarlet sun rise above the hills and lakes of Ontario, land of lakes, granite outcroppings and fall-tinted forests of birches and maples.
We crossed the boundary into the Eastern time zone, then the divide for the Atlantic watershed.
We checked in to the Marathon Travelodge at 4:30 after 606 miles, then drove into town to observe the pulp mill and the harbour. Our hostess, Nancy, sent us to Pebble Beach, where she said this year’s low lake level has exposed a strip of sand below the rocky beach.
We stopped by the town’s Curling club but the door was locked. Nancy said it is too early to ice the rink. During the winter they have several leagues playing and it’s lots of fun.
Tuesday
Nancy served breakfast in the dining room next morning. A restaurant is attached to the motel lobby but it is closed because she cannot get anyone to work as a cook.
She told us that Marathon was founded in the mid 1940s to serve the pulp mill and was originally a company town. Gold was discovered nearby in the 1980s, Canada’s largest strike, and the town continues to grow as companies invest in the mines, extracting also platinum and diamonds.
Nancy arranged for us to meet the Fire Chief downtown before we left and we traded patches with him.
A half hour along the highway, we passed the David Bell gold mine, located on Yellow Brick Road. We stopped at White River for coffee. White River claims the coldest temperature in Canada, 78 degrees Fahrenheit below zero.
We stopped at Fenton Lake in Lake Superior Provincial Park for a picnic and shared bread with a black-striped chipmunk.
Driving in Ontario required great patience. The highways we followed were two lanes and signed for 90 km/h and we stopped several times each day for road work.
We crossed St Mary’s river at 3:00 and re-entered the United States. Our Customs officer told us we won a special prize, we were the 100th vehicle since the last 100th vehicle so we were selected for random search. Two officers opened the back door, observed our haphazard arrangement of clothing, luggage and souvenirs, and waved us on.

Alberta Bound

September 9, 2007
Sunday
On the road at 0840 headed north through the Blackfoot Nation. We saw a bear just outside Babb loping along a hillside toward a herd of cattle.
We crossed the Canadian border at Piegan and continued north to Calgary through beautiful rolling farm land.
After checking in at the Comfort Inn, we walked a few blocks looking for an ATM. We did not find any banking institutions but we did find Bongs and Such and the Erotic XX Boutique and, across the street from our motel, Hooters, "Hiring All Positions."
We ordered in pizza for supper and it came in what must be Canadian style, with a tub of melted garlic butter.
Monday
Next morning we drove to Fort Calgary. Dal, a retired Mountie docent, met us inside the door and treated us to an overview of the history of the Mounted Police and the western provinces.
After America’s Civil War, whiskey traders operated from Montana into southern Alberta dealing adulterated liquor to the First Natives and devastating Indian society. A climax came when a group of American traders massacred a village at Cypress Hills. The Canadian government reacted by creating a national police force, the Northwest Mounted Police, and sent a party of 300 men to Alberta under the command of Colonel James McLeod to establish order. They were deliberately dressed in red uniform coats to distinguish them from the United States cavalry which was widely mistrusted and despised by the indigenous population.
The Mounted Police established Fort Calgary in 1875 at the conjunction of the Bow and the Elbow rivers and named it after the ancestral home of Colonel McLeod, Calgary Bay on the western shore of the Isle of Mull in Scotland.
In 1904 King Edward VII granted the NWMP the privilege of calling themselves Royal and in 1920 they were appointed national police for all of Canada, changing their name to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
We walked through exhibits inside the visitor center that depicted life in Calgary between 1910 and 1930.
At 12:00 we drove downtown and found a parking place next to the Calgary Tower and took the elevator upstairs for lunch. The tower is 626 feet tall and was poured in one continuous cast over a period of 24 days. The highest total poured during a 24-hour period was 39 feet.
We had a nice lunch while the platform rotated and gave us views of the entire city and the Rocky Mountains to the west.
Calgary is bursting with construction activity, cranes working all over the city below us. Our waitress told us that Alberta is undergoing its third oil boom and buildings are going up everywhere to provide housing and services for an exploding population.
At 2:30 we drove to the Olympic Center, home of the 1988 Winter Olympics, and took a self-guided audio tour of the Hall of Fame/Museum, the luge training center, the bobsled start and the top of the 90 meter ski jump tower where Eddie the Eagle leaped to fame. To top it off, we rode the chair lift to the top of the ski slope and back down. Mountain bikers were also riding the lift and special chairs were fitted to take their bikes to the top for a ride down on a variety of challenging trails.
We drove to Costco after that and discovered new things. Prilosec over-the-counter requires a prescription in Canada. The coupons I received in the mail before we left home are not valid in Canada. Costco does not sell liquor or wine in Canada.
We found liquor across the street in a Co-op, behind a double set of barricaded doors in a seedy-looking building with few markings and frosted windows. It seems easier to buy dope.
Tuesday
We drove north to Edmonton and arrived at Fort Edmonton Park at 1:30 and signed up for the 2:00 guided wagon tour. Our wagon was pulled by Katie and Darden and we clop-clopped down three streets built to emulate three periods of Edmonton’s life–1885 when the population was 385; 1905 when the population had rocketed from 4,000 to 72,000 within a four-year period; and 1920.
We stopped at a fourth location, the Hudson Bay Fort and Native Encampment built to reflect its condition in 1846. Naomi told us about the fort and the Hudson Bay Company.
Beaver pelts were the currency in the Northwest, measured in "made" pelts, defined as a beaver fur captured in winter, no bullet holes, a rich brown color and at least 5 hands across, the trader’s hands.
HBC, incorporated in 1690, operated with the Cree and Ojibway natives in an arms-length businesslike way and never had to worry about hostile relations, to the point that natives could buy muskets if they produced the correct number of made pelts. The main trading commodity, however, was Hudson Bay point blankets, embroidered with lines that represented the price in made pelts.
After 1821, when HBC merged with rival French-owned North West Company, the combined conglomerate ruled 12% of the earth’s surface. Laborers signed five-year contracts to work for the company. Pelts were pressed into 90-pound bales and each employee was expected to transport two bales down river and across portages to company headquarters. By the time they retired, most workers were physically broken.
During their working lives, many took "country wives" and left a legacy of generations of "métis’" mixed-blood offspring, whom they generally abandoned when they returned to England, Scotland or France at the end of their contract periods.
For decades the beaver trade depended upon European fashion. Gentlemen wore hats made of beaver felt. Then, one evening, a British Royal wore a silk hat to dinner and the fur trade collapsed.
After Canada gained Dominion status in 1867, HBC was the largest private landowner but shortly gave up most of its holdings, 1.5 million square miles, to the new nation in exchange for 300,000 pounds sterling.
The area given up was known as Rupert’s Land, named after the first chairman of the HBC. It was defined in the company’s charter as all the land and streams that drained into Hudson’s Bay and comprised one-third of the area of Canada today.
On 1920 Street we passed Blatchford Field Hangar, the first aerodrome licensed in Canada and called "Gateway to the North." Wiley Post landed here during both of his circumnavigations.
Wednesday
Wednesday was Mall Day. Temperature at 10:00 was 45 degrees and the world’s largest mall was less than two miles away so we drove there.
It was fabulous. We started at Cinnzeo for coffee, a cinnamon roll and a free mini-twist. Their motto is "Drink coffee. Do stupid things faster with more energy."
As we sat and sipped, we read in the Edmonton Times that 250 Canadian soldiers tested positive last year for marijuana use and were not allowed to deploy to Afghanistan. Teach them a lesson.
We saw sea lions swimming in the Pirates of the Mall exhibition next to the NHL-sized ice skating rink next to Waterworld, an arena-sized swimming pool with breaking waves, a beach, a beach bar and three-story water slides.
At 2:00 we watched the sea lion show as they performed tricks just like Shamu, only smaller.
Afterward we went to Sherlock Holmes Pub on Bourbon Street for Stella Artois and Newcastle Brown, an Alberta-beef hamburger with Canadian back bacon and a shepherd pie, loaded with peas, just the way Mrs Davis likes it.
Our waitress told us that a movie just completed filming in the mall, Christmas in Wonderland, starring Patrick Swayze and Carmen Elektra. It is due to be released in November.
We went to the third level after lunch and watched 3:10 to Yuma, the third remake of Elmore Leonard’s 1953 short story.
The temperature in the parking lot at 6 pm was 47 degrees. It was a good decision to stay indoors all day.

Many Glacier

September 13, 2007
Thursday
On our way out of town, we stopped at Brownie’s Bakery for real coffee and real muffins. We parked on Two Medicine Road and hiked a short distance to Running Eagle Fall, a beautiful torrent of water that cascades out of a cliff face.
At Two Medicine Lake we hiked a mile to Paradise Point and back.. As with everywhere we went in the park, we encountered groups of people standing still with binoculars glued to their eyes. Binoculars replace cell phones at the ubiquitous attachment in northern Montana.
We ran into Larry Perry at the General Store. He was driving the shuttle today after working almost twelve hours yesterday on the Red Bus. He said that GPI is short of drivers and he had only three days off in August.
Many Glacier Lodge would not let us check in until 3 pm so we had a picnic in the lobby. Gail got us upgraded to a lake view room at the appointed time. It was rather small and had twin beds but we worked that out. Every night when we went to bed, I threw my hat to Gail. Sometimes she threw it back. Sometimes she brought it back.
The bathrooms in the hotel were tiny and we found out later that they were originally closets. The hotel furnished community bathrooms for 6-7 rooms to share when it was built in 1915, at a time when indoor running water was considered a luxury.
Ranger Rick Mulligan put on a historic hotel tour at 4:00. James J. Hill, one of the owners of the Great Northern Railway, built Glacier Park Lodge in 1913. His son Louis built Many Glacier in 1915 and he loved hotels so much that he stepped down from his position with the railway to concentrate on his hotel business.
During World War I when European travel business was not doing so well, Louis Hill coined the phrase "See America First" and advertised Many Glacier Lodge as headquarters of the American Alps. He built the lodge in Swiss architectural style to enhance that theme.
As years went by and economic times changed, the domestic luxury travel business waned. When employees successfully fought off the great wildland fire of 1936, they cabled the Minneapolis headquarters of Great Northern that they had "saved the hotel." The one work reply was, "Why?"
Eventually the railway sold its Glacier Park holdings to the mayor of Tucson who formed Glacier Park Incorporated, the company that runs the concession today.
The hotel is midway through planned restoration as a National Historic Landmark but federal funds for the work have dried up during the past couple of years. So far the entire outside–roof, walls and foundation–has been restored or rehabilitated.
The last thing Rick pointed out was Swiftcurrent lake, right outside the windows of the lodge, and said that "In 1930 they raised the level of the lake by artificial means to make it look more natural."
We went to dinner afterward and ordered the signature meal of the lodge–cheese fondue–but they were out.
Ranger Rick put on another show at 8:00, Glacier’s Magnificent Mammals, and we attended that downstairs in the Lucerne Room. Rick broke the ice by asking how many people in the room had hiked that day, then how many had been out on the boat, then how many had mountain biked. He said he brought that up because it’s illegal to mountain bike on the trails in the national park. What a jokester.
Glacier National Park has 63 species of mammal, 64 if you count humans. Six species of weasel, three canines, including the grey wolf which has re-introduced itself into the park, three felines, and so on. Elk migrate through in spring and fall. The red fox, which may not even be native to North America, is the most widespread mammal on the continent. There was more, but that’s enough.
Friday
We boarded Chief Two Guns at 9:00 and boated across Swiftcurrent Lake. Ranger Bob Schuster was our hike. At the end of the lake, we docked and walked a quarter mile to the head of Josephine Lake where, somehow, they had brought the boat around ahead of us and we re-boarded and cruised to the other end.
Many of the people on the boat headed off to climb to Grinnell Glacier and the rest of us gathered to hike with Ranger Bob to Grinnell Lake. Light rain fell on us as we walked through the forest. We saw a moose a short distance from the trail, eating huckleberries. Our friends, Don and Joyce Wells, who are park veterans, had told us that this was a good place to see moose.
We crossed Cataract Creek on a swinging suspension bridge, one of Mrs. Davis’ favorite experiences, and arrived soon thereafter at the lake. Ranger Bob told us about the geologic history of the park and pointed way up on the cliffs to tiny white dots that were mountain goats. Lots of binoculars appeared at that.
We saw the moose again on the way back, lying with his back to us in a grassy dell. Ranger Bob told us that if a moose or a bear should approach us in a threatening manner, we were to form a circle and he would get inside.
We had lunch in the Ptarmigan Room at a lakeside window. Our busboy was from Kazakhstan and our server from Slovakia. Gail said her Reuben sandwich was the best she’s ever eaten.
Rain began to fall in serious amounts after lunch and we found sofa chairs in the lobby next to the fireplace and did not budge for the rest of the day except to get Irish coffees from the lounge. We watched lots of people trail in from their hike to the glacier. Most said that they returned before the rain got too bad. Some had to share the trail with bighorn sheep who were not happy to share.
We ran into Russ Jensen from the bike club in the gift shop and his wife Kay. They were on their way home to San Luis Obispo.
We got to have cheese fondue in the dining room later on and it was worth waiting for.
Saturday
Yesterday’s rain turned to snow on the higher peaks and we awoke to a winter wonderland.
After breakfast, we walked on the Swiftcurrent Lake Nature Trail between the lake and the road. Don and Joyce recommended this as another good trail to see moose, at Fishercap Lake.
We stopped to ask a group of parked motorists why they were staring through binoculars at the hill on the other side. They said they were watching a grizzly mother and two cubs. We asked where to look and they said they were behind bushes and we couldn’t see them.
We shopped at the Swiftcurrent Motor Inn store, then took the Swiftcurrent Pass trail to the Fishercap Lake fork and walked a short distance to the lake. A group of people from the Elder hostel bus tour told us we were wasting our time to come there looking for moose and we smiled at them.
The lake surface was calm and smooth like glass and reflected the surrounding mountains in such a compelling way that I took more photographs than was really warranted. On our way out, I suggested a short cut on a trail that looked as if it were going in the right direction. Three moose loomed out of the brush ahead of us and browsed their way toward us, paying no attention as long as we did not move. I took a lot of photos while Gail hurriedly walked back to the main trail. Don and Joyce were right again.
Back at the lodge in time for lunch, we chatted with the Ptarmigan Room manager, RJ, and gave him our card because he said he wants to come work in Morro Bay next January.
We found chairs again in the main lodge after lunch next to the fireplace and never budged again until dinner time. Except that every once in a while, herds of people migrated outside to the deck with their binoculars. The first time, Gail joined them and asked what they were looking at. It was a grizzly bear with two cubs, but they were hidden behind bushes when Gail looked for them.
People were also abuzz with the news of a bear that swam across the lake earlier in the day. Gail talked to several people who know all about it but no one who had actually seen it.
Dinner again in the Ptarmigan lounge, bison stroganoff, and that was that.