Thursday, December 16, 2010

Little Mirage on the Prairie

It's too late to call anybody, so I check into the Riviera in Saskatoon and catch a couple of hours sleep. The Hotel Lincoln is getting cold and cramped. I need a hot shower and a change of clothes.

Right. Now, back at it. These roads are more slippery than they look here. Salt is not often used on western roads. There's just a whole lot of distance out here, so we ride on a little scattered sand and gravel. And ice. It's good for your nerves. It keeps them stretched and taunt, or you may die. The Yellowhead. Sweet Sixteen.


You never know what may rise out of the Saskatchewan prairie. Or did I take a wrong turn out of Alaska?

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