A levitating lobster boat and an oddly-named trawler remind me of the greatest maritime mystery of all time.
9887.9 miles. Would I do it again? Absolutely.
There are times when haring off to new places makes lots of sense, and times when it’s a stupid choice. This was one of those latter times.
What in this bleak and cold landscape, with its buffeting winds and lack of topsoil, seemed attractive to the Vikings?
How did Tom Thomson die? A century later, the facts are limited but the mystery endures.
Whether or not I really wanted it, I’ve gotten my day off.
I just don’t know exactly where I am.
After a few shots, I realized that she wanted me to continue painting stonily away while she cavorted around me making victory signs, as if I were a rock or a sign that read “Welcome to Moraine Lake.”
In general, Canadians are polite and friendly people. It seemed a pity to want to mow them down with my car, so I retreated to our hotel.
Last year, we counted off the signs of civilization as we lost them. This year, those same amenities crowd back into our vision like not-particularly-welcome relatives.