Wednesday, July 4, 2012


June 28, Strathmore, Alberta.

Leaving Calgary today, we headed south east towards the UNESCO World Heritage listed site of Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump, but much more about that later.

Calgary lies on the very edge of the Great Plains, the Canadian Prairies. As we crested the last hill heading onto the vast plains, we were treated to a view somewhat reminiscent of the 'Cape Flats' just outside Cape Town, South Africa. Laid out before us were kilometres of densely-packed houses which looked much the same from our vantage point. The difference here was that the housing was middle class suburbia, as opposed to township slums. Alberta is oil rich and Calgary is expanding rapidly, so this 'Truman Show' like world is growing at a great pace on the edge of the city.

Off to the west, the Rocky Mountains stood out clearly, just as they must have done to those hearty souls who trekked west across the northern plains in the early 19th century. It was even a little refreshing to drive through the wheat fields and experience the openness of the plains after weeks of mountainous territory through the Yukon, British Colombia and Alaska. We are fairly sure the novelty will soon wear off as we will be spending the next couple of weeks driving through the plains.

But back to “Head-Smashed-in Buffalo Jump”. The North American plains were once home to enormous herds of Buffalo/Bison. Descriptions of their numbers are just mind-boggling today. In the early 19th century, tens of millions were said to roam the still-virgin grasslands of the Great Plains of the USA and Canada. For thousands of years, the Indians of the plains had survived by hunting the buffalo, which gave them almost all they needed to survive.

Contrary to popular belief, the Plains Indians had no horses until the late 18th century, when they were introduced by the Europeans. The story of the horse in North America is worth a brief digression. Archaeologists believe that the horse actually originated in North America, but became extinct during an Ice Age. However, a few of these rather small beasts escaped extinction by walking across the ice bridge of the Bering Sea into northern Asia. After many thousands of years, these survivors evolved into the modern horse of Asia, Europe and the Middle East. The circle was completed when the Conquistadores landed in South America, along with their horses.

To the plains Indian of more ancient times, the main beast of burden was the dog. As sturdy as they may have been, the Indian pooch was not up to carrying an Indian hunter in chase after a buffalo. Hunting was therefore done on foot. Now we, at last, come to “Head-Smashed-in Buffalo Jump”. For many thousands of years prior to the arrival of Europeans, the Indians hunted single beasts on foot, or killed large numbers of buffalo by driving them over cliffs. “Head-Smashed-in Buffalo Jump” is just one of the many hundreds of sites on the plains where this method was practised.

So where did the 'Head-Smashed-in” bit come from? Indian legend has it that a young warrior who wanted to watch the buffalo cascade over the cliffs at this site, hid in the rocks below the cliff face. Sadly for him, this particular jump was extremely successful and, as the buffalo fell in great numbers, the young brave was squashed .

It is believed that the site of “Head-Smashed-in Buffalo Jump”, was last used in the mid 19th century, by which time, the re-introduction of the horse and the use of guns, traded from the Europeans, made the Indians partly responsible for almost destroying the buffalo, along with the white man.


June 29, Medicine Hat, Alberta.

It is hard to be surprised by Canada. That's not a negative reflection, just a reality. It is everything we have come to expect. Everything works, roads are excellent, people are friendly and there is a feeling of success, progress and, let's face it, good times, in the air.

All is going well for Canada. Like Australia, it dodged the bullet of the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) of 2009. It has enormous resource wealth. It produces valuable food surpluses and it is energy rich. Not only that, it has never suffered from the paranoia about socialism that is so prevalent in its powerful southern neighbour. Consequently, it has good health care, a reasonable pension system and, without duplicating the nanny state excesses of Scandinavia and, to some degree, Australia and New Zealand, it has a fair, diverse, and equitable society. The down side of all this, for the traveller, is the high cost of living compared with the US. Never mind, nobody minds paying a little extra when they know they will get what they pay for.

Cruising down National Highway 1 today, all the obvious signs of the healthy state of Canada were on display. Endless, rolling plains of new wheat, pastures full of fat cattle, the stench of enormous feed lots and the ever-visible nodding heads of small oil pumps are there. South, in Montana and Wyoming they have used the phrase 'Big Sky Country' to promote their region. Maybe Alberta was a bit slow getting in on the deal, but the sky sure is big here!


July 3, Glasgow, Montana.

Back in The USA!

Storms chased us into town this afternoon. It had been windy most of the afternoon, with the ripening wheat and the grasses on the open plains performing the Mexican wave. It is easy to imagine covered wagons, the 'Prairie Schooners', moving across the plains, riding the 'waves' as they plotted their relentless paths west.

Our trip today was from Regina, in Saskatchewan, south into Montana. We had spent the past few days visiting Janita's cousin, Tim and his wife, Judy. It was a long weekend in Canada for Canada Day and we were treated to beautiful weather and a couple of days and nights of pleasant company and guided tours of the city and surrounding areas. Regina is an extremely pleasant little city, set among beautiful parklands. Every tree in the city has been hand-planted.

The prairies continue to amaze us. Surprisingly, there is much more variety in the scenery than we had expected. Rolling hills are as common in the northern plains as the perfectly flat areas. Open range is mingled with vast wheat and canola fields. The latter are currently in flower, spreading blankets of bright yellow amongst the brilliant green of the rapidly ripening wheat.

On the trail of yet more variety, we took a detour through the 'Badlands' of Southern Saskatchewan, to Castle Butte. Sadly the badlands could have been better described as 'naughty lands', t a patch on those further north in the province or those we have seen in South Dakota. On route, we managed to get a little lost on gravel back-country roads. A little low on fuel, we had some anxious moments until we finally found a sealed road that led to a small town with petrol. Mind you, it was petrol at European prices rather than Canadian prices, over $2 per litre!

A visit to the local supermarket in Glasgow this afternoon quickly reminded us just what good value the US is! Beer at half Canadian prices and petrol at less than $1 per litre is a great start! It is good to be 'Back in the USA'!


July 4, Havre, Montana.

Independence Day is, of course, a big day in the USA. Country Montana is probably as close to the 'heart-land' as you can get. As we cruised along Highway 2 west towards our next major stop, Glacier National Park, we passed through a small plains township every 50 kms or so. Some are little more than a shell of their past as increased mobility favours the larger towns. Around mid-morning we stopped in Hinsdale, an average town with a single, short, main street block. Normally these towns are fairly much deserted. Today there were white plastic chairs lining the street and a few dozen people milling about. A parade!

We bought a coffee and joined the rapidly growing crowd waiting for the 4th of July Parade. Fantastic experience. Small town USA in full holiday mode, it was Mayberry all over, poignant with the death of Andy Griffith. Far from slick, but so typically small town, there were kids on bikes, girls on the backs of trucks, farm machinery, vintage cars and cowboys and cowgirls on horses. All that was missing was the marching band. As we left to continue our journey, the friendly folk of Hinsdale were wandering down to the tree-shaded Veterans Park for a family picnic. We even scored a small flag, retrieved from the street by a kid as he scavenged for the candy thrown out by the folk on the passing floats.

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