Blown away...this ain't Kansas...or is it?

    We left Edmonton on a clear day with dry roads. I was in shirtsleeves all day. The temperature hit a record 15° in Calgary, and we saw 16° outdoor temperature on the truck console. A radio announcer crowed that it was only 9° in Florida. Normal temperature in Edmonton at this time of year ranges between -6° and -18°. For a split second I wondered why we were leaving Alberta. 

    But man, was it windy! Gusts as high as 117 kph as we cruised past Nanton, and we got detoured because of several serious grass fires out of control in the fields - I can't imagine how those get started. Cigarette butts tossed from car windows? We passed a half-dozen tractor-trailers overturned by the wind (they'd been empty, I suppose) and even sadder, some of those really tall fifth wheel travel trailers. I guess a few older couples got their winter get-away plans detoured, as well. Near Claresholm the city had put up "Severe Wind Gusts" signs, but they were an understatement: winds are called "hurricane force" when they reach 119 kph, so we were on the verge of a hurricane. 

    We drove through dust clouds of pretty large grains, almost pebbles. The truck felt like a plane going through turbulence, and when we stopped to jump out for a washroom break we nearly got blown over. Grown men were leaning into the wind and clutching their rigs to stay upright as they walked around them. I had to hang onto my glasses; later I heard a radio reporter claim that her colleague had had his pair of glasses whipped right off his face. 

    U.S. Border Services agents are always such a treat...this time the guy asked us lots of questions about how much money and in what national currencies we were bringing in, and about our apples. Fortunately he didn't ask why we were taking Australian dollars to New Zealand; that could have set up the need for a long and awkward interrogation.  He asked about booze, and smokes, and of course we answered in the negative. Then he sniffed our passports. Then sniffed them again. I stared at him...what might he be looking for, the tell-tale odour of marijuana smoke? Finally he asked, "Retired teachers, huh? Which one of you is the librarian?" "Neither", we said. "Why?" "These passports smell musty. They must be really old. Like old library books", he declared. Good Lord...how do you respond to a comment like that? 

    A memory popped into my head: a young U.S. citizen who admired our Great Danes and the Greyhound in the back of our station wagon, and then announced that his favourite dog was the "Austrian dingo". I began to explain world geography to him, that there were two countries, one called Australia, one called Austria...but I stopped, aware that I might seem to be patronizing him. I needn't have worried, though: "Nope", he said, after a thoughtful pause and far-away look, searching his memory. "Nope, 's definitely the Austrian dingo that I like." 

    Do you remember those Hallowe'en video email tricks where a ghost suddenly appears on your screen and scares the pumpkin seeds outa ya? In Montana, driving through a very dark night, I suddenly shouted so loudly that my vocal chords hurt afterward, and gripped the wheel tight to stop myself from swerving, all before I'd even mentally registered what I was doing.  A large tumbleweed blown by the wind had suddenly appeared in the headlights right in front of the hood. Later I pulled a piece of it from the grill. My first reaction was that it was an antelope or a coyote that had jumped out in front of me. I sure gave Deborah "fart hailure", though...(there's always a silver lining, isn't there?) Next post: http://debnsteve2012.blogspot.com/2012/01/salt-of-earth.html