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Manitoba
While your tips were responsible for many of our stops, I got such an overwhelming response to the Retro Road Trip that, had I followed up on every suggestion, we’d still be deep in Saskatchewan!
That said, I don’t want to bury those little nuggets of insider info. Firstly, because I sincerely appreciate my readers’ efforts to share their knowledge. Secondly, another Retro Road Tripper may benefit from these! Therefore, allow me to present the Reader Tip Extravaganza. Special wave to Brenda Stewart of Northern Ontario, who emailed me multiple times and went out of her way to contribute to this list.
ONTARIO
- In Orillia: get a burger at Weber’s (Reb’s note: we tried; it was closed; we wept)
- In French River: stop for coffee and pie at the French River Inn and visit the French River Trading Post.
- In Sault Ste Marie: check out Ricardo’s Big Slice Pizza inside the Station Mall – on Bay Street downtown. Reader says: “Don’t let the idea that it’s a place in the mall fool you – they have many different types on unique pizzas and home-made panzerotti. They have the best pizza in town (and huge slices to boot) and then top it off with a home-made Italian Gelato ice cream for dessert.”
- In Wawa: Young’s General Store (Reb’s note: unfortunately, this was still closed for the season as well; I yelled at the Gods).
- In Blind River: take a breather at a secret beach! Before you hit Blind River, you pass Woodlawn Ave, and the next named street is Huron Beach Rd. Just before Huron Beach Rd. is what looks like a parking lot, but also has a road that seems to lead into the woods. Drive in there, and you’ll find a small parking lot in the trees. A footpath then leads across the train tracks and onto the beach.
- In Thunder Bay: Sleeping Giant, Kakabeka Falls, Marla Mae’s, Hillcrest Park, The Military Museum and The Prospector (some of the best prime rib in town). Stay at The McKenzie Inn on the east side of Thunder Bay.
- In Dryden: Kupper’s Bakery
- In Vermillion Bay: Buster’s (try the blueberry BBQ sauce).
- In Kenora: See Lake of the Woods, visit the Kenora Museum, eat at the Hoho (Chinese), Dino’s (Greek) or Hap’s (pub food on the harbour front). Make a stop at the Chip Truck, a Kenora tradition since the ’50s (Reb’s note: we did stop here on our way out of Kenora – yum!).
MANITOBA
- Take the #2 instead of the Trans Canada. The view is better and towns are quainter and friendlier.
- In Winnipeg: dine at The Famous Drive By, The Bridge Drive Inn off Jubilee Ave, The UnBurger on Stradbrook Ave, Kelekis Restaurant or Salisbury House.
- When going through Manitoba, consider taking the old Trans Canada Highway: East of Winnipeg, PTH 44, the old Highway 1, has commemorative “Historic Highway No. 1″ signage. West of Winnipeg, PTH 26 used to be part of the Trans Canada Highway as well.
SASKATCHEWAN
- Reb’s note: I think I followed up on most of the tips for Saskatchewan, but here’s one of my own: check out the small town of Maple Creek. We weren’t there long enough to do a proper blog post (and I was at the uncomfortable zenith of my food poisoning), but it’s worth a peek.
ALBERTA
- In Irvine: swing by the General Store for a bacon cheese twist.
- In Lake Louise: visit the Chateau Lake Louise.
BRITISH COLUMBIA
- Visit Ymir, continue to Creston and then to the ferry at Crawford Bay. Reader says: “Some amazing artisans there and then over the longest free ferry in the world to Balfour and onto Nelson. So many cool things along this route including a house made out of glass embalming fluid bottles.”
- In Field: stop at Truffle Pigs at the Kicking Horse Lodge.
- In Golden: try Jita’s for breakfast.
I got some fantastic emails from folks along the way, just to say hello and share some of their own memories of Canada. Knowing that I’ve touched someone makes this blog feel worthwhile, it really does.
One of my favourites was from Hugh (Bart) Vincelette of Vancouver, who wrote:
I was surfing news items this am, & noticed the reference to your stay in Portage la Prairie. It’s my home town. I was born & raised in Portage, more years ago than I’d ever care to admit. Admittedly, the winters are dreadful, & I escaped them for the west coast in 1974. In the ensuing years, I’ve lived primarily in Vancouver, but I also spent nine years in Southern California , most of that time in San Diego. I also lived & worked with a friend in Honolulu for about nine months… I mention all this, because no matter where I’ve been & lived & worked; I was always proud of being from Canada, Manitoba, & especially having grown up in P.la P.
Now, if something is missing here you’d better add your two cents below, before the cent goes the way of the ha’penny!
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While I tend to err on the positive side of travel writing, if I were to tell you that all 14 days of the Retro Road Trip were a dream come true you’d have every right to abandon my blog on the spot.
Thus, in the spirit of honesty, I present the Razzies of the Retro Road Trip!
On a physical level, The Tunnels of Moose Jaw, are mightily impressive. An attraction that’s open year-round (a rarity along the Trans Canada, let me tell you), it offers two 50-minute guided tours: Passage to Fortune (the story of early Chinese immigrants) and The Chicago Connection (bootlegging during Al Capone’s reign). Both take place in a network of tunnels beneath historic downtown Moose Jaw.
We opted for The Chicago Connection, and were pleasantly surprised by the high level of set design and the use of animatronics. What fell flat was the story itself, which was told by a troupe of young actors who squealed and squawked in your face to an irksome degree. I mean, I love energy but good acting involves subtlety.
The worst part was, we emerged from the dramatization feeling completely unsure as to what was fact and what was fiction. Had Capone ever really visited Moose Jaw? Did he have a bedroom, complete with freshly-laundered suits, waiting for him? Why were the actors all talking in cheesy Chicago accents if they were living in Saskatchewan? Had we just seen a play, or a historically-accurate reenactment? For $14 a pop, you’d hope this would be clear.
I’m not going to name names, but I’m 99% sure that a certain Chinese-Canadian-Thai restaurant was responsible for my four day food poisoning.
The triple-ethnic hyphenation. NEVER the triple-ethnic hyphenation!
Suffice it to say, the four days were absolute agony. I consumed only Gatorade and Premium Plus and I moaned (in the British sense of the word) nonstop.
On the bright side, I’ll be starting a separate website with reviews of rest stop toilets. So be on the lookout for that.
Billy is running with a mitt in his mouth and a frosty tripod in his bare hand. From what does Billy run? The EFFING COLDEST GOOSE STATUE IN THE WORLD.
Seriously, when we shot some footage at the Wawa Goose, we nearly became ice sculptures ourselves.
Why so cold, Canada?
It’s my umpteenth day of food poisoning. I’m hoping to sleep it off and feel quasi-normal the next day.
We arrive at The Drake Inn, Canmore, Alberta, which has been recommended to us. The setting amidst the mountains is phenomenal. We have to check in to our room at the adjacent pub, which is busy but civilized. Looks like some people are having dinner after work. Nothing I haven’t seen before.
The room is above-average for a motel. I take a bath, eat a fistful of dry-as-cardboard Premium Plus and get in bed.
At 11 pm it starts.
Thump. Thump. Thumpathumpathump. Th-th-thump.
It’s not the usual motel room thumps, the kind that are guaranteed to end in about 15 minutes. It’s bass and it’s humping our walls.
“What the…?”
Billy picks up the phone and dials the “reception.” Nobody answers. He dials “pub.” Ditto.
So he puts on his shoes and jacket to investigate. The civilized pub has now morphed into a full-blown nightclub, with bouncers and a horde of twentysomething partiers queuing up to get inside.
Billy goes inside, where the volume is deafening. He tracks down the guy who took our money. Here’s a loose transcript of the words they exchanged.
Billy: Hey, as you know, we rented a room from you earlier.
Manager: Yeah?
Billy: Um, you failed to mention that it was going to be a club tonight, and the bass is REALLY loud.
Manager: Oh, uh, well, you know, the information’s on our website, so….
Billy: Your place was recommended to us. We didn’t look at a website. You should have told us it was going to be this loud. Look, I’m not telling you to turn off the music, I’m just asking you to ask the DJ to turn the bass down. We’re trying to sleep!
Manager: I can’t do that. That’s like telling a guitar player to not strum his guitar so loud.
Billy: He’s a DJ. He’s just playing other peoples’ music.
Manager: Well, I could tell him to turn it down, but it’s just going to get loud again anyway.
Billy: So you’re saying you have NO CONTROL over the people you hire to play music here?
Manager: Sorry, mate. If you’d like, I can refund you your money and you can find another place to go.
Billy: So you’re telling me you’re going to refund the money and we’re going to have to find a new place to sleep at midnight?
Manager: Sorry mate, nothing I can do.
To put this in perspective, look at the “website” he’s referring to. Does this look like it’s going to deprive you of sleep? And the line about “our relaxing atmosphere complimented by personable staff that always extend a warm & sincere welcome.” What a joke!
I’ve never felt so insulted by a hotel in my life, and, as you know, I’ve stayed at plenty of them both budget and otherwise. It’s as though they took our money then said “screw you.” What’s the point of having a hotel if you’re not doing everything you can to maximize the product you’re selling, which is…drumroll, please…SLEEP.
And once again, this site tips its hat to Sir Sturge, fish-in-chief at the Imperial Hunter Hotel, Bassano, Alberta.
Fantasy Conditioning Shampoo. FANTASY?
If this is your idea of a fantasy, you need to consult some adult films.
Late March, after a heat wave in Ontario that resulted in bared leg flesh all over the province, and this is how the road from Thunder Bay to Kenora looked.
I know some of you are going to think I’m a horrible beyotch for uttering a negative word about a friendly, honey-guzzling bear, but if I’m being honest I’ve just got to come out and say it: White River, Ontario, you’re really stretching it.
Winnie the Pooh came to be when A.A. Milne wrote a series of stories featuring a loveable orange bear that was based on his son Christopher’s teddy bear. This teddy bear was named after Winnie, a black bear that Christopher had seen in a London Zoo. Winnie (the black bear) was named after Winnipeg. So what’s the White River connection? Oh yes, let me see…the man who brought the bear to England acquired him from a hunter in White River.
Does this justify having Winnie the Pooh (A.A. Milne’s version, not a simple black bear) on every street sign? As far as I’m concerned, Winnie the Pooh is an English product. I mean, if White River wants to lay claim to him then the original teddy bear manufacturer had better get in on the action too. And the zoo. And the boat that brought him over. And the cage. What brilliant community crafted that cage?
Why, of all movie posters, does the Brandon, Manitoba bus station proudly display a framed copy of Turner & Hooch?
I invite you to speculate below.
I can understand feeling somewhat lifeless when you’re in Thunder Bay in the dead of winter, but to get a grave with your fries? That’s pretty macabre. Although it is a great deal….
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