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 Carol and Dick Stewart are full-time RVers from California and have been on the road for over 7 years in a 40 foot Fortravel Unihome. You probably recognize ther names because we have included articles from them in our book, Movin' On. 
Oh Canada---The Wonderful Prairies 
part 2

Here we are at the end of the road.  There's only one way to go; south and west.

Flin Flon--a short name for a long town built on the rock, much like Newfoundland. Mr. Josiah Flintabbatey Flonatin is a character in a 1914 novel titled The Sunless City. Yep, that's who the town was named for and tomorrow I'll try to find a copy in the souvenir store. Sure, and you'll be gettin' it for Christmas. 

As we drove along the undulating frost heaved road, we rattled and rocked, but then we came over the hill, and there it was a huge smoke stack set on rock. And the town is nestled in among the rocks and lakes. Oh, so many lakes. Look at your map, you can find it and see the huge lakes and the only way to Churchill is by train, and you can't even get a train from here. You must train it from The Pas (said The Paaaa) or charter a plane. The Pas is a rather native town looking for work and it will soon find it in a new lumber mill under roof --all 14 acres. That's The Pass. And it was a pass for furriers, from the Saskatchewan River to the greater lakes to whichever route north or south that they chose.

So Flin Flon has a main street, clothing, jewelry, furniture, grocery co-op. It has to be a company town, but the housing looks good, kit houses, some older homes really set on the rocks. There's a huge attempt at flowers, but they still collect their trash--real trash, and some treasures just out wherever; some folks have the neatness gene, others do not, just like the lower life.

It's 10:00 and there is light in the sky, but cars use lights to see. We've had rain almost every night now for the last 4 or 5 days; the mosquitoes love it. We would say they are medium. Can't sit out, can't work outside without the control of Deep Woods spray. Not many folks are outside. A fellow we met says he loves winter--skidoo and ice fishing, oh, yes. A lodge owner says, yes, come to the national skidoo drag races--200kph, 65 below.  It's quite an event; right across the lake.  No, no pickerel tonight; you go catch them; we'll cook 'em.  But we can't catch 'em and sell them to you. 

It's not easy getting tourist information. First, we are the ONLY tourists. We're in a community campground next to the town museum. Today they had 3 visitors. Besides us, they had 3 on motorcycles (I wasn't sure who were the girls and who were the guys) a family with a trailer.  Only we stayed on. It is the weekend so no mine tours, but we'll get the information. And most of the guides (?) are summer teens (known by the pros as "little girl clerks") and they "haven't been there or there either," But we will ask others, we'll find out. 

We are probably the only transient campers in this full campground. Most of the others are worker bees, most likely on a road job or in the mines. No cones around the work, often no flaggers either. Now these workers do not cook; they come home at 6, immediately head for the showers, get together in campers much like we had, only these are taken off the truck.  So there are all these little campers on jacks all over the North. Work a few months, head south. Now you can't beat the scenery, fishing, but what else. Not much time for what else, because they work 12 hours 6 days a week. Make it and get out much like Yellowknife, Fort MacMurray.

We went to a lodge tonight to check out dinner. Oh, the view looking out over a 20-mile lake with more coves and islands than you can think about. And there are thousand's, really, more like it. I grant that this lodge and view were special, not fancy, just a great setting and great people. 

This is hockeyville too. Even the lodge owner was into hockey, and could talk hockey guys with Dick. He's from Vancouver. 

A down side--so many, many smokers, young, old, every age. And they smoke a great deal.  Almost always they have a cigarette in hand at $5.50 a pack.  They drive fast too. It's that old gotta get there fast. Do they drive fast in the winter in the cold and hurry to get to warm, or are their cars just old and dusty, dirty anyway, so they beat them up? 

What do they drive?  Well, on the prairies they drive big boats, but miles, big families, comfort is the game and old--6 or 7 years.  But they go like the wind.  In Winnie, they drove compacts--Neon's were a favorite. Out here it's truck land, little and medium pickup's and vans. 

We do have satellite and it saves us from delirium. We see all the election stuff, and are glad we bought a Jeep instead of a Ford Explorer and all that. 

Ten minutes later than before and it's pitch black, a bit of thunder, and more is promised. 

Now reading Wolf Willow by Wallace Stegner--all about Cypress Hills where history really was made here in the North, more kindly, more trustworthy north.  It calls me.