We arrived
in Calgary on Monday afternoon. What a difference from Banff! It’s like driving
from Estes Park, Colorado, in the middle of Rocky Mountain National Park down
to Denver, on the western edge of the Great Plains. And where were the cows and
saloons? When I was a kid, I remember reading about the Calgary Stampede. But
we couldn’t find a single cow, cowgirl/boy or real saloon. They don’t even wear
Stetsons here. And the traffic was terrible (cars, not cows or even sheep)! But
we were on a mission to find a computer repair shop, and as Suzanne looked at
the choices on her computer screen, Lo! There was one just a mile away. We found
a parking spot, and I carried my old, unresponsive Dell into the shop and a
nice woman named Terri said they’d do their best, but why was I still carting
around a relic that runs XP and not Windows 7, for Heaven’s sake. (I didn’t
want to tell her that I am a Luddite who would prefer to use a notebook and No.
2 pencils; they don’t crash, after all...)
As we
stepped out the door onto the pavement, My Lovely Bride turned left, away from
The Coach. Where was she going? “There’s something down this way I need to
check out...” Not two doors down was a small sign for “Self Connection”, a
metaphysical shop. I knew then that we weren’t going anywhere very soon. (Maybe
I could find a nice outdoor café and have a few cups of coffee, several
pastries and read the Sunday New York Times cover to cover.) She went inside while I walked the puppies,
and then a half hour later she stepped outside and said to come on in. Self
Connection’s owners, Mike and Marla Finch, have a lovely shop filled with
everything that Suzanne could want. She already had a couple of books under her
arm. Suzanne was very impressed with the energy of Marla and Mike’s center,
which includes a classroom, and they agreed to get together during the next
year for a “webinar” or an on-site workshop if we get back to Calgary next
summer.
Mike wanted
to introduce me to his dog, so I left Rudy and Gretchen in the front with
Suzanne. When I walked into the back room, I saw what I thought was a small
grizzly bear. Briggs is a 120 lb. Leonberger, a mix between a Great Pyrenees, a
St. Bernard, and a Newfoundland. As enormous as Briggs was, he was obviously a
very well-mannered lover-dog. Mike was also interested in our sailing
adventures, and I told him about Rudy the Sailing Wiener Dog having crossed the
Atlantic with us on our sloop Liberty. (It took me about 5 seconds to visualize
Mike rowing Briggs ashore in a 10 foot long dinghy for a walk and I almost
burst out laughing, but restrained myself, for once...)

There was a
very important reason for stopping in the Calgary area; about 40 miles south
was an Itasca RV dealer, High River RV, that had agreed to repair one of our
three slide-outs, which had begun acting very badly, grinding and moving
erratically on its four tracks. In fact, we had not even extended that slide
for the past two weeks because had it gotten stuck in the out position while in
the Rockies, we would be in “deep doo-doo”. We had heard that High River was
particularly hard hit by flooding last month, and as we drove through town, it
was evident that complete recovery was a long way off. Parts of town still
don’t have electricity, water and sewer service, and blue porta-potties were
scattered through the business and residential areas. Hardly any businesses
were open downtown, but fortunately the RV complex was away from the flooded
area.
Just down the street was a large ServiceMaster recovery staging area,
with long lines of workers about to start or just having finished their shift
cleaning out mud, ripping out soaked dry wall, and other critical tasks in
saving the town’s homes and businesses. It reminded me of the aftermath of
Hurricane Katrina, when we went back to New Orleans to see my old family home,
a two story house only a half mile from the major levee break on the 17th
Street Canal. Lake Pontchartrain’s waters had risen two feet above the upstairs
floors, washing away a couple of smaller houses on our block, and even though
our visit was a year after Katrina, it was still a disaster. We felt very sad
for the people of High River, many of whom worked at the RV dealership where we
had just arrived.
Tuesday was
entirely devoted to trying to repair our damaged slide-out mechanism.
Unfortunately, it appears to be what is called in the Navy “a cascading
casualty”, first, a design fault, with insufficiently sized bearings having
been installed to support the heavy slide carrying the kitchen and living area
furniture, which then caused the second problem, one of the two motors having
burnt out because of excessive loads. There was an additional issue in that
replacement parts would have to be shipped from Indiana to Canada, with a
likely week-long shipping and Customs process delay.

After talking to a
Winnebago factory sales rep who just happened to be visiting that day, we decided
to get the slide retracted and drive south to Longmont, Colorado, where we had
purchased The Coach. That way we should be arriving in the Denver area at the
same time as our parts. Sounds like a good plan, right? Well, there is an old Army
saying that “No plan ever survives initial contact with the enemy.” In this
case, the “enemy” was the now-extended slide that decided it didn’t want to
retract. These photos show the series of maneuvers the RV repair team had to
use to get the slide in so we could drive away. Starting with a couple of guys
pushing while I hit the buttons for the surviving motor, the slide would only
move in a few inches, and was canted at a 10 degree angle, instead of sliding
in level. NOT GOOD!

We then recruited some additional shop guys to push, but
the slide still would not go in.

Finally, they got a padded wooden support and
used a jack to lift the slide level. With one motor and lots of strong arms,
the slide finally retracted 98% of the way in, and we were again ready to
travel.
We also had
limited success in getting my computer partially repaired, at least to be able to retrieve most of its data. The
corrupted Windows operating system was reinstalled, but wireless capability and my contact list were lost, so I'm still relying on Suzanne's laptop for connectivity until I get a replacement... let’s see, I’ll ask my Minnesnowta IT advisor, “Hey, Terri, is
the Commodore 64 still available at Best Buy?”
In
celebration of our last night in Canada, we
decided to splurge on a dinner out. First try was Bistro Provence, in Okotoks,
Alberta, but the $45 entrees put me off my feed... (How can you ask those
prices in a town with a name you can hardly pronounce? I think the answer is
that it’s one of the closest restaurants to where the hundreds of out of town
recovery workers are staying...) Anyway, we both agreed that the $14.95 Indian
buffet would be a lot more sensible. Here is Suzanne enjoying her naan, butter chicken, beef curry and daal.
As I complete
today’s blog, My Lovely Bride is guiding us down Canada’s Highway 4, with 65
miles to go to the US border at Sweetgrass, Montana. We have truly enjoyed our
time in British Columbia and Alberta. The scenery was spectacular, the wildlife
visible but non-aggressive, and the people delightful. We are looking forward
to returning next summer and spending more time in both provinces, with much
more hiking on the schedule, as well as keeping Suzanne busy with presenting
workshops and giving readings.
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