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Spuds "Cogito ergo spud. I think, therefore
I yam."
We left Minnedosa and passed an oxbow lake. Horses and colts, secure behind wired fence, cantered over to the fenceline to gape at our mounts. Perhaps they thought our bicycles were cayuses that had broke loose from the herd? We tossed a few apples their way, then galloped south on Highway 10, abandoning the under-construction Yellowhead route (Jerry confirmed it had no shoulder). After my sneering, I guess the road had had the last laugh. At Brandon, we turned east, and, devoid of good sense, cycled on the four lane, but no paved shoulder, Trans Canada Highway. Yikes! And I had thought the Yellowhead traffic was bad. Hugging the right-most strip of asphalt, we timorously surveyed our mirrors as vehicles buzzed past. After two hours, we were more than ready to flee the hornet-like traffic. "We have to get off this road!" Sharon yelled. "This isn't what I call bicycle touring. It's more like a demolition derby!" Fleeing onto rural Highway 351, we left the swarm behind. In Carberry, the town's fairgrounds provided a spot for overnight camping. Sharon silently watched our pasta boil. Suddenly she blurted: "I know this sounds crazy, but I have a sudden craving for baked potatoes." I grinned. "I'll keep an eye out." Leaving Carberry the next morning, the cosmos continued its beguiling ways. We hadn't gone more than a kilometre when we spied an oblong object lying on the gravel shoulder. It looked like ... no ... it couldn't be! We pedalled closer, still not believing. But, sure enough, a huge potato, caked in earth, lay on the road's edge, just waiting for some wishful person to come along. Chuckling at the absurdity, I stopped and picked it up (I'm sure it winked at me). I held it high for Sharon to see. "You should be careful what you wish for," I kidded her. "Now we have to figure out a way to bake it." For the next few kilometers we traced a trail of taters strewn along the roadside. My pannier was overflowing by the time we began passing field after field of hilled potatoes. Carberry's nickname? We learned later it was 'Spud City.' Who knew? |
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