We met some Albertans yesterday, Pat & Shelley, from Edmonton. They were camped next door, and we had twin 2001 burgandy Dodge trucks to bond over. We swapped dealer servicing stories, and Pat told us how to bleed the water from the fuel pump, and how and when to empty this strange oil-collecting-thingamabob from near the fan belts. Apparently, if not emptied regularly, it explodes its surplus of oil all over one's radiator. We were told with some mystification from the dealer that our rad was covered in oil, but they had no idea why. This suggests we should empty that little bottle before it happens again!
We have never been given an owner's manual for this truck, despite including that in the purchase contract. Pat loaned us his for the afternoon, and I read through as much as I could, learning that our tire pressure in the rear-wheels has been low by 20psi each(!!), and other potentially critical little details.
Later we had a bonfire, and shared stories, as our two dogs Diesel and Dallas begged tirelessly at the trailer door for pig's ears, which were in shockingly good supply. As Pat or Shelley would go to the trailer, inevitably more pig's ears would be doled out. I tried to pretend this was not happening.
Shelley one-upped our story about finding these two cool pebbles at the beach by proclaiming herself a huge collector. She told of bags of seashells from Tofino, plants from Waterton park itself, and great capers in Mexico. She told of how she used to pick up starfish in droves from the beaches, and bring them home in bags to dry out- but then how they would just die and start stinking, rather than drying out nicely like in the gift-shops. Not in the least dissuaded, she continues to collect plant and sea-life on her trips, but now she has a process and a rule:
- she brings the critters back to the hotel lobby where they're staying, and deposits them in a planter.
- if said critters are able to slither/crawl/negotiate their way out of the pot overnight, they "get to live."
- if not, they're going home in the truck to Edmonton!
They honestly took the horror on our faces at each new revelation, as encouragement, and shared story after story- each one more outrageous than the next. It was impossible to stay affronted. Theirs rivaled the best of the Mark Twain stories I'm reading, and I'm sure it would take someone of his talents to fairly reproduce the richness of the tales or the absolute hilarity of the telling. Having little so outrageous to share ourselves, we just sat back and enjoyed our hosts.
After the tequila with watermelon chasers, they then produced a shisha, or hookah from Egypt. The concoction was one of tobacco, fruit and molasses which I thought I would never be able to smoke, due to my asthma. To my surprise, I drew it in and expelled a lungful of smoke without any coughing whatsoever. Encouraged, I tried a couple more breaths, and enjoyed the super subtle fruit flavours. This treat made the rounds a number of times, and I can definitely see how the hookah could become a fashionable social accoutrement. You can have the experience without the tobacco as well.
For our part, we offered the far less fashionable Jager-bombs, since we'd unaccountably picked up a small bottle of Jagermeister the week before, me putting it in the medicine cabinet, thinking myself very funny at the time. At one point, with the two dogs both resolutely pointed at the front door of their trailer, from whence came the pig's ears, a deer walked casually through the campsite, and past the fire, while I nearly fell over in my lawn-chair, pointing and unnecessarily exclaiming for the others, "DEER!!." Both dogs completely ignored both my yelling and the deer, fixating instead on the trailer door. At this point, we were all hysterical as the deer sauntered slowly past, pausing to munch, and the dogs continued to show no reaction. I believe Kate was striking her head, I was on the ground laughing, and our hosts were shrieking their laughter, all of us slapping various body parts to test if we were seeing accurately. The dogs ignored all of it, with their noses full of nothing but the grease and stench of those horrible pig's ears.
Since our riotous party had now lasted a good long time, and we'd surely irritated all the neighbours, we thought it a good time to take the branding iron out of the fire (yes, naturally they bring a branding iron everywhere they travel, and we're considering getting one ourselves), and Kate and I happily branded the picnic table with a red-hot letter R.
We've exchanged emails of course, and plan to keep in touch. They're leaving at noon today, and we're going to keep a very low-profile in the campground.
We're meeting every sort of wonderful people so far on this trip, and Pat and Shelley are sure to prove unforgettable. Barring some more exuberant Albertans showing up beside us, tonight's bonfire just won't be the same.
I also want to give a call-out to Ally and John from Colorado, and let you know that we went right home and ate every single cherry. They were even more delicious than the ones we got in Osoyoos!
