We left Alberta on a bit of a stormy day with rain, high winds, thunder and lightning.  The kind of day one would want stay in camp, hunkered down waiting for the storm to pass, not the kind of day to travel across the prairies. Driving in a windstorm wasn't too bad until I looked in the mirror and noticed the trailer swaying a bit behind us with every wind gust and it was at that moment I was quite thankful that we had traded our pick-up truck in and that Toothless is as big and strong as he is!  The tricky part to staying in your own lane and not heading for the rhubarb in a windstorm is when you are passed by a semi tractor-trailer.  The first challenge comes when the tractor is beside the trailer.  The wind is temporarily blocked from the trailer which then sucks you towards the passing vehicle.  Next the entire tractor trailer is alongside and things are relatively calm.  Then as the trailer pulls ahead you are once again hit by the crosswind which then is trying to force you towards the ditch.  In the few seconds it takes for the truck to pass all you can do is take the wheel in both hands and do your best to ride out the storm!  Fortunately, I now know what to expect and it's not quite so scary. 

Despite a couple of Emergency Alert tornado warnings, we made it to a small town in Saskatchewan called Grenfell and set up camp for the night at the Grenfell Recreational Campground.  We had a bit of a glitch finding the campground as the GPS literally took us to the wrong side of the tracks.  As we followed the directions and the GPS said, in it's pleasant and friendly voice "take your next right turn then your destination is ahead, on the right", we took the next right turn which then put us on a single lane, dead end road with no campground on the right.  That meant backing up to a point where we could turn around and reloading the destination into Julies phone navigator to take us to the right place.  A lesson learned as to why you shouldn't rely on just one navigation system.

The "next right turn" led to a dead end and no campground in sight

As we drove through Grenfell and to the campground the streets were littered with broken branches and leaves, a quiet reminder of the storm that had passed through ahead of us.  We hoped that it was over and that the trees in the campground were a little more resilient than the trees lining the streets.  We spent a night in a quiet corner of the campground with some friendly people who were all spending a few days in Grenfell for a family wedding.

Evidence of the storm

Evidence of the storm

We pushed on in the morning through Saskatchewan and on in to Manitoba.  The scenery through the prairies is a lot of the same -- open fields dotted with small farmhouses and out buildings surrounded by long rows of mature and obviously not native trees to form windbreaks from the prairie weather.  Silos and grain elevators remind you of the hard work that goes into maintaining a life on the prairies and the dedication of the people living there.  If only the highway departments put in a similar effort to the farmers.  As soon as we crossed the Alberta/Saskatchewan border the highway turned into a ribbon of potholes, frost heaves and broken pavement.  We made mention to each other to remember to open all cupboards in the trailer slowly and carefully as there would be a landslide of contents waiting to pour out, which usually causes one to become a professional juggler to try and save every item from hitting the floor.  The highways in Manitoba are not much better.

We arrived at our next camping site near Souris, MB in the mid afternoon, another Hipcamp site aptly named "The Cranky Trapper".  The hosts, John and Loretta were the most down to earth, friendly and accommodating people you could hope to meet.  They set us up along their driveway rather than in the regular campsite (due to our size), said to let our dogs run all they would like, told us of the various things to see and do in and around Souris and, lastly, warned us of the copious amounts of ticks in the area!  We quickly gave all of the dogs their tick medication, hoping they wouldn't meet a tick until the meds had time to circulate through their systems.  In the evening John and Loretta came to visit bringing gifts of homemade jerky and moonshine they had made in their garage and sharing life stories of various trapping, fishing and hunting adventures they had experienced, and, once again reminding us of the copious amount of ticks around.  I said not to worry, I had treated the dogs.

John also mentioned that there were several striped squirrels around the property.  We had one living in a little hole, sharing the same plot of property as us.  They are actually called "thirteen-lined ground squirrels" and look a lot like a stripey gopher.  We sat and watched our little furry neighbor rummage around the farm equipment munching on the grass and enjoying the evening sun. 

The following day was a beautiful sunny day and we headed in to Souris with Reba to check out the various touristy things.  We parked at the swinging bridge and walked across back into town.  We stopped to have a look through the Hillcrest Museum, which

is a prairie castle, peeked in at the railway museum and wandered around looking at the various other sights.  We then treated ourselves to an ice cream before heading back to the camp site.  It's a unique feeling as you travel through and experience these small prairie towns.  It is a pleasant, homey, wholesome and down to earth feeling.  It also has a feeling of going back in time, back to a time when life was hard and challenging, but uncomplicated and simple, free from the hustle and bustle of city life.

That evening for dinner we had a yummy T-Bone steak that we smoked on John and Loretta's smoker and then later on we all sat around the campfire.  It was a very nice way to spend an evening.  Again, John asked us if we had seen any ticks yet and we said "no, all clear!". 

The next morning we packed up and let the dogs run a bit while we chatted one last time with John and Loretta.  They gave us a small mason jar of "bourbon", freshly made in their garage, that we will cherish and save for a special occasion to remember their hospitality and the "Cranky Trapper".  As we stood in the middle of the yard saying our goodbyes I casually reached up and rubbed the back of my head and neck, as I usually do quite often when standing and chatting.  This time was a bit different.  I felt a small, scab-like bump on the back of my head.  As it hadn't been there a short time before that and the fact that John had warned us over and over again, I instantly knew what it was.  I calmly interrupted the conversation to say "Oh!  I think I have a tick!"  John sprang into action and very quickly and adeptly plucked the little b***ard from my hairline.  Julie was a bit shocked at how calmly I had handled the affair, given the fact that at any other given time I have a complete meltdown at the slightest inclination that there may be a bug on me.  I'm not at all sure why this time was different, but I think John was quite relieved that we finally saw a tick and if there had ever been any doubt in all of his warnings there was now no question that there were a lot of ticks around.  We then loaded up and headed north, to Shoal Lake and the Lakeside Golf Club and Campground. . . . and a whole lot more ticks!!