Nothing like a long weekend to get out on the highways and beatup roadwork of this gigantic yet essentially empty country we call Canada!
I had to make a journey out to Calgary this weekend, and if you're not familiar with our geography, my route took me right through the Rocky Mountains - a magnificent and under-utilized location for condos.
As seems to be a non-negotiable requirement for any trip I will ever take from Kelowna to Calgary, it poured rain like Niagara Falls on steroids. Have I ever mentioned that my sunroof leaks like Niagara Falls on steroids, even on sunny days?? Our trip was interrupted by one brief stop along the way; to buy some Dollar Store tea towels, which held back the current enough to stop the fish from spawning on our leather seats.
We were stopped for 2 hours enroute, just outside of Golden, by a traffic jam resulting from the unfortunate but all-too frequent occurrence of a long weekend traffic accident. Sitting in a car for over 120 minutes, with a waterfall running down the mountainside, rain beating a steady rhythm on your roof, an empty extra-large Tim Horton's coffee cup in your hand and a mini-van full of nuns behind you may have been the inspiration for the term "girding your loins"...
The thing about a road trip is that after you arrive and settle in at your final destination, you ultimately have to make the trip back. Which I did, on the holiday Monday.
Leaving Calgary, you drive by farmers' fields straight into the Rocky Mountains. And (I am not making this up) as I got closer and closer, the CD I had chosen to play for my drive (The Remembering Ultimate Top 20 Hits Of The Memorable 70's Of Your Life) just so happened to spin up Mr. John Denver, and his famed international hit "Rocky Mountain High". You just can't make up stuff like that...
On a fence post over to my right, I happened to catch an eagle staking out his breakfast buffet in an adjacent field. I suppose it could have been a brunette crow with a peroxide dye job though, I am due for a new pair of glasses...
As I made my way up into those High Rocky Mountains, I was perusing the scenery, and just happened to notice a head pop up, over the concrete abutment. Then, bold as Hell, the entire body of a large coyote followed, and stood right up on the cement blocks. For the record, and poor grammar aside, the head was attached to the body...
He was a big beast of a coyote. Not some scraggly suburban coyote, this was a mountain coyote, coming up the freakin' side of a...mountain!! There was some road kill on the shoulder he had his eye on but he turned away long enough to meet my gaze, and I actually felt so uncomfortable, I turned away...
Beaten in a stare-down contest by a dirty-brown brother of a dog...
to be continued...
Tomorrow: Choosing The Wrong Fork In The Road...
Chow for now!!
7 comments:
It becomes clearer each day, why you will never belong to PETA.
Hey, it's not like I was the one that whacked whatever the coyote was sizing up....
And just to be further clearer (unlike that sentence fragment),I was not competing with the coyote for the free meal...
Hey Dan, don't worry...you can always join the PITA club instead.
You know,I thought that if I didn't post a picture of my beachball-sized head, I could avoid cracks like that...
I think you need to take a test to see if you are PETA material. If you can say the following ten times in a row very quickly then you belong, if not, wehooo!
The PETA PIPERS PACKED A PINK PACKET OF PAINTBALLS.
HOW MUCH BEEF COULD A BEEFEATER EAT, IF A BEEFEATER COULD EAT BEEF?
A sumptuous sizzling sirloin steak,saturated with sauces and seasoning salt, slides slowly into my stomach...salut!!
Sayonara PETA....
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