Riding Mountain National Park opened in 1932 and is the oldest national park in Manitoba. It rises 457 meters (1,499 feet) above the pretty flat prairie in all directions. At its center is Clear Lake and the town of Wasagaming. Its most recognizable feature is a line of cliffs along the eastern border formed by the Manitoba escarpment.
We planned to visit. Our new friends from the music festival confirmed it was a must see in Manitoba. We set a course.
Les deux côtés de ma famille ont immigré aux États-Unis du Canada. Parmi les 12 frères et soeurs de ma mère, tous sont restés aux États-Unis sauf un – ma tante Edith. Elle est retournée au Canada, dans une toute petite partie du Québec bordée par l’Ontario et l’État de New York, juste au sud-ouest de Montréal. En grandissant à New Hampshire, nous avons dû visiter souvent et j’ai appris à connaître tous mes cousins canadiens. Alors, bien sûr, un voyage au Canada doit inclure une visite.
The power outage only lasted 36 hours. We savored our last night in our RV in our own driveway (which would get a 5-star review by our criteria – quiet, dark, level, nice view, close to hiking and other activities, free). It’ll take a couple of days to transition back to stationary mode – then the focus will shift to skiing, music and planning the next adventure.
The frequency of our posting will slow a bit now that we’re home, although we do plan a few updates. Otherwise, we’ll catch you when the next adventure begins. Thanks for joining us!
St Louis has the Arch, Gateway to the West. That’s nothing compared to Al’s place, Gateway to Our Adventures. Al, who we’ve known for more than 30 years, holds the record for number of visits on our travels at 4. Whether we’re heading to or returning from the west or south, Al is nearby. Visits with Al are always comfortable. They always include conversation late into the night, Al’s super home cooking and some fun outdoor adventure.
Our friend John is the second person we met when we started skiing at Sugarbush in 1999. We’ve been friends ever since, sharing passions for skiing, biking and fine (ok, very good) dining, and Doug and I have occasionally served as marginally competent crew on John’s sailboat. Over the years, we’ve also become friends with John’s brother Phil and Phil’s wife Barb, who visit Vermont regularly. Since we found ourselves near where they live, we arranged to visit.
I was 6 years old when my Uncle Rod and Aunt Olive up and moved to California with my cousins Rick and Priscille. Priscille was my idol at the time – she was my only girl cousin in our little home town in New Hampshire. And she was so cool – she was 11. I asked ‘Mom, where’s California?’ ‘It’s far’ she said.
Fast forward 35 years. My brother reports that he’s visited our 4 cousins in California. You know, Rod’s kids. Wait a minute…
In the early 1940s my grandparents bought a cattle ranch on the San Francisco peninsula, in the Santa Cruz mountains west of Palo Alto, off of the California 35, which is also known as the Skyline Boulevard. My mom and her sisters and brother moved to the ranch at relatively young ages and did most of their growing up there. Eventually my grandfather left the ranch to pursue other ventures, while my grandmother decided to stay put and established on the ranch a nursery specializing in California native plants.
On our way back north, we stopped in Chico to visit David and Trudy. Dave is Katy’s brother and also Pete’s. Here in the Central Valley of California, folks grow food. Fruit, nuts, rice, cattle, and more. No surprise then that our sightseeing tour had a focus on food, with even some eating thrown in, and there were other aspects, as well.