Daily Archives: June 6, 2004

Hockey Night in Canada

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Location: Boston Pizza, Canmore, Canada (map)
Miles:3799.1

I woke up fluffy-headed and groggy, none too enthusiastic about breakfast, but I knew that what I needed more than anything was some good greasy breakfast food. I shambled down to the dining room of the hotel, where I had a 10% off coupon. Plus, I didn’t have to go out into the daylight to reach it. The dining room was overrun with little old ladies (well, they weren’t all little) wearing vests that identified them as belonging to the Fraternal Order of Eagles. An odd fraternity, I thought, with no men evidence. I assume they had stashed their husbands elsewhere. The women were getting ready to go into a meeting of some sort, so they had all had breakfast at the same time. I don’t think the hotel was ready for that kind of rush. They were doing their best to keep up, but there was just no way they could.

I sat and read the menu about fourteen times, wishing I had brought my book or my laptop down with me. Finally I ordered two eggs over easy and hash browns and toast. $4 Canadian, less the whopping 40 cents off for the coupon. “No meat?” the waitress asked, surprised. Breakfast without any meat? Who was this strange man? After not too long my food came (sunny side up but firm whites, with just a few crunchy bits around the edges – not bad at all) and I managed to eat most of it.

Back in the room I puttered around for a bit. I managed to find an AOL 800 number that (for a fee) allowed me to check email and look at the comments on this site. Finally I schlepped my stuff out to the car. It was my first day driving without a bright sun to cook me. The sky was gray, but with texture, like a bowl of gray popcorn overhead. Rain in the future? With the car loaded, it takes a few minutes to go from top-down to top-up, and the computer equipment probably didn’t like getting wet. I put the top down and piled all the stuff in.

After one wrong turn I headed north, toward the jagged mountains that stretched across the horizon, the teeth of a giant table saw cutting the world asunder, the teeth trimmed in white. The gloom did not mar the drive. At Radium Hot Springs I turned right and headed into the <I’ll put the name here after I look it up> national park. That was a good choice. As soon as I paid my entrance fee I found myself passing through a deep cut in the rock, and when I came out the other side there were big-horn sheep grazing by the road. One of them had big horns indeed. I drove up a valley between two rows of mountains. The road was in good condition and an easy drive. All along they way there were signs that read “Avalanche Zone. Do not stop.” as well as the usual animal crossing signs, which seemed to indicate that there were certain areas reserved for deer to cross, others for big-horn sheep, elk, and moose.

Canada is a bilingual country, so all the signs were in both French and English. I found the translations for place names to be funny. “Dog Lake” became “Lac Dog”. I had to wonder why, if they translated the word lake, why they didn’t also translate dog? Lac Dog. There was also “Somethingorother Glacier” Which translated to “Glacier Somethingorother”

There was also ample evidence that there had been a very big wildfire in the area not too long ago. It was another relatively dry winter up here, so there’s probably more of that to come.

Originally I had thought to stay in Banff, famed for it’s mountain splendor. I drove into town and looked around for a bit, and I’m sure I could have found broadband Internet there, but the whole place was a little too cute for my taste. Modern rustic taken to extreme. It looked expensive as well. Back onto the highway for me, heading east toward Calgary. I’m glad I decided to stop in Canmore. It’s still nice, but not in a prefabricated Disney MountainLand sort of way. The first hotel didn’t have broadband access (“We’re putting it in soon”) but the very helpful girl at the counter called around until she found a place that did. (Note to self: email best western and commend her – whatever her name was.) So here I am, Web-enabled with only a few annoying hiccups.

At the desk as I was checking in, I asked where would be a good place to watch the game that night. No need to say which game. He recommended Boston Pizza, which surprised me, but it was a good choice. I got there not long before the game started. The restaurant has a bar area with a big-screen TV. The room was full, but there was one empty stool at the bar, just waiting for me. I settled in and wished I had something red to wear, surrounded as I was by Flames jerseys. The room cheered when The Star Spangled Banner played, and the whole room sang along to O, Canada. There was a cheer as the team came out onto the ice, and an extra loud cheer for the goalie. There were as many women as men in the room, and they all knew their hockey. I have never watched a hockey game in a bar while surrounded with such enthusiasm. It was infectious. I was a Flames fan, through and through. (The woman sitting next to me at the bar asked me if I was a Flames fan, and I answered quite truthfully, “Of course! Hockey belongs in Canada. What do they know about Hockey in Florida?” I did admit that I had not always been a Flames fan, but she forgave me that.)

To finish so I can hit the road, the game was great fun, but the Flames lost in the second overtime. CBC coverage of the game was very good, better than American coverage. They don’t have to explain as much. they just make comments like, “That was stupid. That kind of trick doesn’t work here!” I don’t think the restaurant was getting very good service, the waitresses were all standing at the entrance to the lounge, watching the game. A whole row of pretty hockey fans. Who could ask for more?

Here’s the view from my hotel room this morning:
viewfromhotelincanmore.jpg

Thanks!

Funny Money

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5

Got a build done for the client and got onto the road about 2:30 – not as early as I would have liked. I came down into Colville and gave Bob a call to thank him and decided to grab a quick bite at McDonalds. It was not a quick bite. I waited in line, trapped by the cars behind me, for several minutes. When I reached the order box what I heard was “Sorry for the wait. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” Finally it was my chance to order. “I’ll just want a Quarter Pounder with no cheese and a medium Coke,” I said. I watched on the panel (to ensure accuracy) as she rang up a quarter pounder with cheese, hold the cheese. I thought of trying to explain to her what she had done, but at that point it simply wasn’t worth forty cents to me. When I got to the first window, the 50ish woman took my money and apologized for the delay. Not all McDonald’s are the same. Some are worse.

On the road at last, burger sitting heavy in belly and caffeine increasing my heart rate, I took Highway 20 east out of town. At the outskirts of town there was the faint smell of skunk, my totem animal if they’ll have me, and I decided that was a good omen. I had put on plenty of sunscreen while waiting in the drivethrough, so I was protected. I put Stiff Little Fingers in the CD player and blasted Suspect Device.

At mile 3490.2 (kilometer 5628.2) I was quizzed briefly by a nice Canadian Customs lady and I crossed into Canada. I have never been to Canada before, so I was pretty excited. The only real changes I noticed were the speed limits were in km/h, and one in four cars had Calgary Flames flags attached to them.


I followed a route recommended by Bob, largely on the strength of a bar he liked. Traffic was not bad and I made good time, arriving at Kokanee Cove Pub at suppertime. I looked over the menu and decided to splurge a bit – I had to have the barbecue prawns in secret butter sauce (I a sucker for secrets), but that didn’t seem like a meal so I had the steak and prawn combo. Of course, I also ordered a beer. The beers seemed a little on the pricey side until I realized that these were Canadian Dollars. Woo Hoo! That was like 20% off or more right there.

After dinner I made the short trip up to Cranbrook to find a place to sleep. I searched high and low for high-speed Internet but without success. The responses ranged from “We don’t have any access to the Internet of any kind,” to “We’re planning to put that in soon” to “We have two rooms with the Internet, but they’re both taken” and finally “We have one room left with high-speed. It’s a Jacuzzi suite and it’s $350.” That’s too much even in Canadian dollars. Finally I just gave up and went somewhere cheap near a bar.

I ended up just going to the hotel bar instead of the one I saw next door. My laptop battery was dead and the hotel lounge was deserted, so I knew I could find somewhere to plug in. It worked out well, too. They had a good pale ale on tap for a good price (unusual in hotel lounges). I had four of them over the next couple of hours and as you may be able to tell from the last episode, written while I was there, I got pretty loopy. That must have been a pretty potent ale. I went back to my room and tried to connect to AOL, but I couldn’t figure out which numbers were local.

I woke up in the wee hours still on top of the covers, shoes on, an arm over my eyes to keep the light out. I want to know what my waitress put in that beer.

Thanks!