We Did It!!

Whatever happened to the daily blog? Not sure whether time has got the better of me or perhaps I’ve lost my muse now that we’ve ‘settled’ a little bit. I think we left off on the last blog somewhere near Saskatoon en route to Winnipeg and then beyond. Seems my geography was a bit challenged in the previous blog as the ‘1000’ or so kms left to go was more like ‘2000’ or so. We stopped at a place called Pike Lake Provincial Park after dropping my cousin Keegan and his partner Elise at the Airport in Saskatoon. It was a beautifully landscaped summer (and perhaps winter) escape for those in the know, complete with a teaching/play swimming pool and slides, pedal boats, heaps of green-space and a few playgrounds. Unfortunately we didn’t have much time to partake in all it had to offer and have made mental note that it warrants a return and perhaps a few days in the campground to really make it worthwhile. From Pike Lake we managed to make it just over the border into Manitoba, to a place called Roblin. A veritable spec on the map really, with only one campground with which to choose a site, an adjacent lake apparently renowned for trout fishing, and a quaint little main drag reminiscent of a few small Aussie towns we’ve visited in the past. Feeling the need for fitness I managed to kick myself out of bed in the morning and throw on my running shoes to explore the town. It took less than 25 minutes to circumnavigate the town but for this I was grateful as the cogs had started to come off at about the 20 minute mark and I had to coax the legs home. Jen took up the challenge though and suffered the same end, but at least we’d made a start. Our next plod on the great highway of life took us across Manitoba close to where I had been born and spent a few of my early and apparently sickly years. We had meant to cut across the middle of the province and come down through my birthplace, Arborg, and onwards to Gimli (home of the large white viking and Icelandic/ Norwegian heritage) but somehow missed a turn and ended up trekking south to the Trans-Canada highway en route to Portage La Prairie and Winnipeg. We hit Portage around lunchtime and needed a play so managed to find a park and an adjacent pool/slide complex which fit the bill. We’d decided to spend the night at Sandy Hook after a quick visit and ice cream foray to Gimli – a place I later learned was quite near my childhood home in a place rarely documented on maps, called Arnes. The next day we rose reasonably early and made tracks to Upper Fort Garry – a former fur-trading post for the Hudson Bay Company, now on display for historical reference, complete with actors dressed in the typical garb of the day elucidating the many intricacies of life during the fur-trading post’s heyday. We had a ball and became reacquainted to much of the historical basis from which Canada eventually evolved. Onward to Winnipeg proper we went, attempting to replace an internet modem stick for the computer and solve my iPhone ‘locking’ dilemmas so I might have an operable phone here in Canada. I’ve quickly learned that telecos in Canada can be franchised and that one which looks identical to all the others may actually be operated by another company, rendering any questions or service unfeasible unless it is part of the same franchise-company from which the original products were purchased. Yes – very confusing and time consuming. At the end of our probings we ended up across town at a massive box mall but finally able to solve at least one of our telecommunication problems. My iPhone it seems was going to be a much more difficult gadget to sort out. In the end we gave up chase, headed to my Aunt and Uncle’s abode in the centre of Winnipeg and found a parking spot for the ‘beast’ directly behind their house in an ice rink parking lot.



We spent 3 days in Winnipeg, venturing here and there, hitting museums, checking out places such as the Forks and imbibing as much good, proper coffee (something we’d had much trouble finding) as was chemically healthy for our systems. It was a whirlwind few days and we’ve made a pact to return, not only to visit family but also to spend a bit more time at the Manitoba Museum – a massive maze of Canadiana which we ended up rushing through in the end for lack of time in the day.



I had aimed to be in Barrie, Ontario (Jen’s home town) by the 10th of August, so we had 3 days in hand to get there – thing was – I was itching to complete this journey and start on the tasks that will eventually lead us to a more settled existence ie) finding a house, a car and employment. The urge was strong so with a good 20 plus hours ahead of us, we forged onward. The scenery around the Great Lakes was absolutely stunning, bringing back fond memories of canoe trips into Algonquian Park during my uni days. The roads were long though and after 9 or ten hours and a fill up where we nearly took the shingled roof off of the servo with the beast, we found a Visitor Information pull out off the highway to spend the night. Fortunately, it put us within striking distance of our final destination and after another long day of driving, finally pulled into Jen’s parents house, tired, stir-crazy and relieved that we’d finally come to the end of 7 months of traveling. We’ve had an amazing trek and will relish in it for many years to come. Now the tough part starts – re-organizing our lives and trying to make anew in a brand new community and setting.

The Tunnels of Moose Jaw, Batoche, some Canadian History, and Lac La Ronge /Nemeiben

The past week has been a blur, visiting family, seeing the sights and keeping the kids busy. Before leaving Moose Jaw we ventured to its most famous tourist attraction – the tunnels. They are famous for a couple of reasons: 1) during the late 1800s and into the 1900’s Chinese immigrants (predominantly males) made their way across to Canada to find their fortune and 2) Al Capone – the famous mobster from Chicago apparently ran a liquor-running business from Moose Jaw during the years of prohibition and apparently came to visit now and again. A tourist operation runs two separate tours through different sections of the tunnels and touch on the history through a bit of theatre and audience participation. The Chinese Immigrant story is a particularly sad one in Canada’s history books, demonstrating the incredibly racist and discriminatory manner in which they were treated, albeit abused. Our tour guide portrayed the wife of the boiler maker for the local laundry and was in charge of taking in new immigrants and showing them the ropes of the operation which was entirely hidden from the outside world. It wasn’t infrequent that she would get into character and start lambasting us (the Chinese immigrants) as we followed her through the maze of tunnels in which the Chinese labourers lived. Seeking fortune out of poverty in the move from China, the Chinese found themselves essentially enslaved, away from their families with a bleak chance of making it back to China or out of the tunnels. Not only did they have to pay back the landowners in China who had put up the money for their trip to Canada, a veritable impossibility given their wages and corruption, but by the 1920’s they were also forced to pay a head-tax for entry into the country of $500 – equivalent to about $11,000 today. They would earn just over a dollar a week so they were essentially trapped by insurmountable debt. Some eventually made it out of the tunnels, re-acquainted themselves with their families which they likely hadn’t seen for 10 to 15 years and eventually established successful businesses. Of those that did survive, Canada has recognized the incredible injustices perpetrated against them and in 2006 awarded a sizeable sum in compensation to a couple of the remaining immigrants from that era – they were 98 and 99 years of age!

The ‘Al Capone Tunnel Tour’ was also quite intriguing with our guides never out of character and seemingly rushing us from room to room of the operation to avoid the chief of police and the imminent visit of ‘Al’. Cole wasn’t sure whether to wet himself and hide in a corner or make a run for it and I could feel him shaking at times from fear, believing at any moment some gangster might pop up behind us with a Tommy gun and start shooting. His relief at the end when one of our guides announced he was only acting was palpable and he actually congratulated the fellow on his acting ability. Although the ties to history are a bit loose, the fact that Moose Jaw had a direct railroad line to Chicago made it more plausible and remnants of the whiskey-running era have been uncovered giving it a bit more credence.
From the ‘Tunnels’ we made our way back to the motorhome site and then off to my Aunt Debbie and Jim’s place to reacquaint with some Aunts, Uncles and cousins that I haven’t seen for 7 or 8 years or more. They seemed a happy bunch and all were living fairly interesting and different lives. The kids and ‘grandma’ were rapt at the end of the visit as they got to have a quick ride on the back of one cousin’s new motorbike. The next day we were off again. Our aim was to make it up to Lac La Ronge in Northern Saskatchewan over the next two days and catch up with family from my mom’s side. En route we stopped off at a place called Batoche – famous in Canadian History books for a battle between the Metis (half-breeds) lead by the Che Guevara of the age, Louis Riel, and the Canadian army. The Metis felt they were about to lose the lands they had established themselves due to some governing issues back in Ottawa and began to agitate for self-governance. Recruiting the famous Metis revolutionary, Louis Riel, from northern Montana, the Metis battled for 5 days against the army but eventually surrendered. Louis was tried and sentenced to hang for treason later that year. The site is now owned by Parks Canada and you can tour the old buildings and battle sites with supplied golf carts. Although the movie which ties everything together was obviously done on a tight Canadian budget and could put a rabid, maniacal monkey to sleep, the visit was a great re-introduction to some Canadian History I’d shelved since high school. After a night in a run-down excuse for a campsite on the other side of Prince Albert, we finally made our way to Lac La Ronge and the cabin of my Aunt Vicky and Uncle Dean located on a lake just west La Ronge, called Nemeiben Lake. The cabin sits right on the lake and shares waterfrontage with a few neighbouring cabins. The scene is absolutely pristine, with often glass-like shimmering waters, virgin forests for as far as the eye can see and a not-so-infrequent loon or two popping their heads up out of the water. As my Aunt Patti commented to her sister Vicky – “This is paradise!” It didn’t take long before we were out attempting to water-ski or throwing a line in the water to have a go at catching a Pickeral, Jack or Pike for future nibbles. The boys tried in vain to stand up on the junior skis but never quite got the knack for it. Aidan preferred the less complex tubing option and never bored of raising his thumb in the air to get more speed from the boat driver. On our fishing venture, Aidan, as per usual, threw in his line and in seconds had snagged his first Pickeral. Cole and I eventually caught a largish Jack to add to the pile and content with our take we headed back to the cabin for the evening festivities. The occasion was my Aunt’s 60th Birthday and in true Bakkestad (my mom’s maiden name) style, the ‘Hallingdal’ (a Norwegian-thing) Girls put on a show. The ‘Are We There Yet Clan’ (Myself and the kids) roughed out a few songs from the guitar and the kids performed their world-famous bush poetry rendition of ‘Arrow in the Neck’ by Spike Milligan – imagine three kids grasping their necks flayling on the ground. As darkness thickened (around 10:30 pm) we were treated to a firework display complete with audience-added 80’s tunes, capped off by an amazingly patriotic ‘O Canada’ which I’m sure filled the lake’s calm with sound throughout its numerous bays and inlets. It was a magical evening and as the party continued to rage we sought the refuge of our motorhome for a much needed slumber. For our final day at the lake, Aidan and I joined my brother and newest cousin-in-law, Brad for a round of 9 holes of golf and again realized that golf is a game one needs to practice in order to attain any reasonable enjoyment from – fortunately we were playing it ‘Ambrose’ style and I only had to throw my club once! As the kids enjoyed their younger cousin’s company, I ventured out with some previously unknown second-cousins to enjoyably suffer the punishment of a tube-ride at the hands of my Uncle Dean. Intent on knocking us off by any means necessary, we were catapulted in what seemed like a never-ending array of twists and turns, culminating in our eventual mid-air disembarking from the yellow tube and two to three skips over the water. It was epic and not to be forgotten anytime soon. Another feast and sleep later we were packed and back on the road, remiss of Grandma and Grandpa who had taken an earlier ride into Saskatoon, leaving Jen, myself and the kids at the helm of their 31-foot beast, ready to tackle the final 1000 or so kms left in our cross Canada-journey.