Okay, finally, we're ready to leave Battleford. We stop at a gas station, where we amuse the clerks with our peculiar family mode of communication. To wit: Monica and Joseph are engaged in a discussion in which she suggests he starts vaping instead of smoking; Joseph, however, is unconvinced, because he's heard there's some health issues around vaping. Monica's head promptly explodes. (Because there are no known health risks with smoking.)
We're off on the road, and heading towards Prince Albert. The canola fields are in their lovely vivid yellow stage, and there are beautiful golden hills under blue sunny skies. Mom enjoys watching the way the scenery changes, the large open farm fields gradually giving way to forests of pine trees and white spruce.
On my GPS, I see us approaching our destination. Parks are highlighted in green on the GPS, and I see that Elk Ridge Resort is located on a little green blob just outside of the main park. I complain that we are not even staying in the park, but just in the stub of a national park. Why are we staying at some stubby resort? Oh yeah, because there were two rooms available on short notice - that's why.
Elk Ridge Resort looks quite beautiful - and not our usual class of accommodation. (We are a cheap and simple folk.) We have adjacent rooms on the ground floor, with balconies. I feel like a lot of people who stay here are golfers, because there's a big golf course, but there's also a fancy-schmancy spa that Monica is interested. There are also trails around the resort, and apparently there are free bikes for us to use.
Monica misunderstands the front clerk's spiel about the services offered, and she tells us that the hotel restaurant closes at 5 (which seems weird - in retrospect, I should have questioned her), but we can go over to eat at Walleye's, which is the golf clubhouse. Off we go to Walleye's. Monica is once again enraged at the paucity of vegan choices; however, she finds something to order. I am not all that hungry, since we haven't eaten THAT long ago, so I go with the dessert options and order a brownie with ice cream.
45 long minutes pass, and we get our food when Monica informs the waitress we are considering leaving. 45 minutes to wrestle my wild brownie into submission and top it with ice ceam. 45 minutes to microwave Mom's Campbell's Soup (okay, I'm being snarky). 45 minutes for Monica's bagged greens to get in a bowl. And 45 minutes for Joe's sort of cold poutine to arrive. Monica has watched lots of restaurant reality shows, and tells us the kitchen has got "in the weeds", and it's always a bad thing that leads to much unhappiness. I don't know what their problem was exactly - there was some kind of gridlock, because no one was getting fed - but yeah, they weren't impressing us with our service.
Returning to the hotel, we ask about the free bikes. The free bikes are all gone - there are none for us. Hmph. Instead, we decide to walk some of the trails. La la la, it's a lovely evening as we walk down the road. Oh, there's the trail sign - how delightful! Joseph, Monica and I walk into the woods, and there's the eeeEEEeeeEEE of one thousand, thousand mosquitoes descending upon us. Monica is the first to run.
We flee, but the mosquitoes follow us. The bloodsuckers have got me everywhere. We return to the hotel, where the desk clerk sells me some Deep Woods Off for $10. I would have paid $100. I would have been angry, but I would have paid it nevertheless.
Okay, doused in mosquito repellent, and some bikes have now returned at 9:15 p.m., because it's getting dark. We are undeterred, and we take the bikes for a ride. It is fabulous - nice and cool, and the mosquitoes can't keep up. I have a mountain bike with shocks, which is a new experience for me. Monica has a cruiser bike, which is giving her some grief, but we're all having fun.
Then it really is getting dark, so back we go. Our hotel room comes with some fancy bath salts, which I take advantage of, and the beds are nice and cushy. Not bad for a place in the stub of a national park.
We're off on the road, and heading towards Prince Albert. The canola fields are in their lovely vivid yellow stage, and there are beautiful golden hills under blue sunny skies. Mom enjoys watching the way the scenery changes, the large open farm fields gradually giving way to forests of pine trees and white spruce.
On my GPS, I see us approaching our destination. Parks are highlighted in green on the GPS, and I see that Elk Ridge Resort is located on a little green blob just outside of the main park. I complain that we are not even staying in the park, but just in the stub of a national park. Why are we staying at some stubby resort? Oh yeah, because there were two rooms available on short notice - that's why.
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| Monica and Mom in front of the Elk Ridge Resort. Yes, Monica is dancing a jig. |
Monica misunderstands the front clerk's spiel about the services offered, and she tells us that the hotel restaurant closes at 5 (which seems weird - in retrospect, I should have questioned her), but we can go over to eat at Walleye's, which is the golf clubhouse. Off we go to Walleye's. Monica is once again enraged at the paucity of vegan choices; however, she finds something to order. I am not all that hungry, since we haven't eaten THAT long ago, so I go with the dessert options and order a brownie with ice cream.
45 long minutes pass, and we get our food when Monica informs the waitress we are considering leaving. 45 minutes to wrestle my wild brownie into submission and top it with ice ceam. 45 minutes to microwave Mom's Campbell's Soup (okay, I'm being snarky). 45 minutes for Monica's bagged greens to get in a bowl. And 45 minutes for Joe's sort of cold poutine to arrive. Monica has watched lots of restaurant reality shows, and tells us the kitchen has got "in the weeds", and it's always a bad thing that leads to much unhappiness. I don't know what their problem was exactly - there was some kind of gridlock, because no one was getting fed - but yeah, they weren't impressing us with our service.
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| Riding the trails at Elk Ridge with Monica & Joe. |
We flee, but the mosquitoes follow us. The bloodsuckers have got me everywhere. We return to the hotel, where the desk clerk sells me some Deep Woods Off for $10. I would have paid $100. I would have been angry, but I would have paid it nevertheless.
Okay, doused in mosquito repellent, and some bikes have now returned at 9:15 p.m., because it's getting dark. We are undeterred, and we take the bikes for a ride. It is fabulous - nice and cool, and the mosquitoes can't keep up. I have a mountain bike with shocks, which is a new experience for me. Monica has a cruiser bike, which is giving her some grief, but we're all having fun.
Then it really is getting dark, so back we go. Our hotel room comes with some fancy bath salts, which I take advantage of, and the beds are nice and cushy. Not bad for a place in the stub of a national park.
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