It's after midnight and we've been driving hard and steady since
yesterday afternoon on our way from Edmonton to Iowa to visit friends
and our eyes are gritty and our butts are sore
and we are tired of the endless flatness of the bottom of Saskatchewan
as we head south-east from Regina on the Number 6 highway
toward Weyburn.
We
pull into Milestone, Saskatchewan just after 1:30 am hoping for
We
follow the signs to the campground:
We find a level spot, not a hard thing to do in southern Saskatchewan,
As I back-dive into sleep, the last thing I see looking up through We are jolted awake at 6:03 by an early-morning freight train blowing The sky is clear and blue; the sun is already two fingers above the horizon; The back of the campground sign says
THANK YOU
We say thank you, too. July, 1999
a place to camp--well, not camp, really, just a place where we can sleep
for a few hours in the back of the van.left off the highway at the darkened gas station/garage/restaurant
straight ahead bada-bump, bada-bump over the tracks in the moon-
shadow of the old-style elevators--in prairie towns,
there always used to be railway tracks and elevators--
right down the silent, one-storey main street
left down an empty street where tricycles are safely stored for the night
on front lawns
right then left again into a silent empty field with six-inch unmown grass
beside the municipal pool.
With
weary eyes, we read in the headlights:
MILESTONE
CAMPGROUND
$5 PER NIGHT
PAY AT POOL
RESTROOMS SHOWERS
Perfect.
step out of the van to stretch our stiffened legs and backs and are instantly attacked
by a billion love-starved mosquitos committed to pumping every drop
of blood
out of our ankles, arms, necks, faces and especially
my bald head. We jump back into the van, close all the windows, cover all exposed flesh
(we forgot the repellant) and try to seal up every possible avenue of access to bare skin
before venturing out again to swat our way across the moonlit field
to the restrooms in the cinder-block building next to the pool, with
bug-filled flourescent lights
puke-yellow walls
flush toilets (thank God)
running water
the tops of large metal garbage cans for counters
dank, slimy shower stalls
and no mirrors.
For mirrors, you'd have to pay, oh, six or seven dollars, at least. But
we're tired, it's cheap, and we don't complain.
the van window is the three-quarters moon riding high
in the clouds.
long, long, short, l-o-o-o-o-ng three times in less than a mile. The last
extended long says, with a Dolby fade, "Get up, McLaughlins! It's time to move
o-o-o-o-n!"
we are back on the highway eating breakfast in the van by 6:25.
Thank you, Milestone Saskatchewan.
We enjoyed our stay.
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