Being a passenger in Big Red has provided me with a lot of time to daydream, which is one of my strengths; if, say, daydreaming is considered to be a strength. My sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Lange, didn’t think so, and would have had me committed if she’d been given the chance. She ended up having to have eye surgery, so she didn’t finish the school year. Lucky me.

I’ve been daydreaming about going to Iceland and participating in the sheep round up and day dreaming about participating in the upcoming Competitive Trail Ride, which is going to take place at the end of this month, locally

Pete and Shadow

Today I started to daydream about doing the TransCanada trail. I could do either one of two things. I could ride Tyra, west to the east coast and ride the trail. Or go to Iceland, purchase two Icelandic horses, then ride them from the east to the west coast.

Driving along in the truck, I thought of Tyra, who is a superb riding horse, and ride her west to east. This is because leaving her behind would be nonsensical. I could pick up a pack horse in British Columbia, and this way I’d have a pack horse and Tyra would have a travelling companion.

Also, Raudi and Hrimmi would be able to remain in one another’s company.

In the meantime, there is the present. We are camping in Moose Creek Campground, to get here we had to drive past Stewart Crossing. To get here today we had to go through a major construction crossing. The wait for the pilot car was lengthy; the red light just would not change. I called it the Red-Light District. The pilot car driver signaled us to follow her, and so this is what we did. The men in machines were moving a lot of dirt. There was every kind of machine imaginable out there, big machines on large hills. Seeing those at the distance made me think of Matchbox toys, which we all had as kids.

I worried about the dust and the effect that this would have on Raudi; fortunately, the construction was going on, on our right and the horses’ trailer windows were on the left. And the traffic was behind us since we were the first in line when the pilot car appeared. We had to contend with the dust from the pilot car, but it was minimal. We’ll see if Raudi coughs tonight.

We stopped at Pelly’s Crossing, at the Big Jonathan Heritage Center, which was closed. A fellow driving an ATV (had a box of Kool Aid strapped to the front rack of his vehicle. Long gray hair and was smoking a cigarette) told us there was an orphan horse in the neighborhood – his owner had died, and his best horse buddy had also died. So the residents were feeding it. I wish that we had gone and checked him out. . .

By this time, it was very hot, and I was again cursing because we got off to a late start.

Once again there was a lot of interest in the horses. At Pelly’s Crossing we talked for a long time with canoers, and they admired the three mares who again hammed it up and ate hay pellets.

Now watching Tyra. I need to find out more about the TransCanada trail. If I had a pack horse, I’d be able to carry more gear. No doubt, Tyra would be a wonderful traveling companion. She’s low key and lacks attitude. The Icelandic west to east trip would also be fun, but it would end up being expensive and ambitious. We’ll next see how Tyra and I do in the Competitive Trail Ride. Then on to Iceland. Good to again be daydreaming about making horsey connections.

Next: 165. 6/17/24: Day #12, Rock Creek Campground: a Good Thing