Alaska, Day 8-10: Minneapolis to Regina, Saskatchewan, to Calgary, Alberta

We had budgeted one night for Minneapolis, but caught such a nice vibe from the area that we decided to stay an extra evening. Our leisurely breakfast at Tracy's kitchen table turned into an afternoon of storytelling. Tracy's mom was "super-chill," as Tracy put it, even though the younger Mayer daughter Jami (she's decided to drop the E) seems to display the same streak of teenage recklessness that my parents struggled to cope with when I was a lad of 16. Jami had opted out of a family trip in March, instead staying home to throw an epic rager. Her parents had flown straight back to icy Minnesota to address the matter, effectively cancelling their meticulously-planned sailing trip to the British Virgin Islands. They were not pleased. Jami is now saving up for a car on her own. She wants a pink Hummer, but I'll bet she'll end up settlling for a 1987 Hyundai with plenty of rust and exterior trim falling off (in the automotive world, we call it the "leprosy trim package").

Tracy brought us to the Mall of America, and it was absurd. I had always wanted to visit LegoLand as a youth, and was finally able to realize that dream. We snapped a photo next to a life-sized lego statue of Boba Fett. They also have roller coasters inside the mall. "I'm suprised they don't have an aquarium," said Madison. "Oh, they do!" said Tracy, "It's over there!" Locally-made ravioli was on the dinner menu, and it would have been complemented by a savory red pepper-ricotta sauce, except that Tracy had mistaken the container for dip earlier that day- we'd eaten it on chips. Oops. "Man, this dinner would have been great with a little more sauce," said Mrs. Mayer. We journeyed to the Minneapolis Sculpture Park, where we ran around among the works laughing and taking pictures. Tracy's friend Kelly led us on a roundabout tour of Minneapolis's historic homes on the way- it looked a lot like my hometown of Montclair, NJ. The city would be a GREAT place to live if it didn't get a bit brisk in the wintertime.

After the sculpture garden, we went to the University of Minnesota (known as "The U") to hang out with Tracy's friends. They confirmed that Jami's party had been pretty awesome. One, Billy, almost joined the Alaska expedition. The debate over whether to go out in downtown Minneapolis or Dinkytown, The U's bar neighborhood, was settled easily: "We've got the rest of our lives to go on business trips to Minnesota," I reasoned. "But probably this one chance to check out Dinkytown." Madison agreed wholeheartedly. We saw the apartment that Bob Dylan had lived in before he became a household name. Beers were dirt cheap. As we left the bars, Tracy drunkenly picked up an application to work at a burrito place nearby. I had encouraged her to land a job working in the Cheese Mines , digging nuggets of tasty gouda and gruyere from deep beeneath the Wisconsin countryside. We departed Minneapolis, zigzagging across North Dakota towards Regina, Saskatchewan.

North Dakota was desolately beautiful. The rusting hulks of depression-era trucks lurked around faded barns and grain elevators, and we saw our first pair of Moose. They were enormous, half again the size of horses with long spindly legs. They looked almost comical galloping across the plains on their huge clydesdale-y hooves. At the Canadian border, Madison informed the customs officers that we had no weapons or drugs, but that we were carrying Canadian Whiskey "back home to Canada." The guard managed to stifle her laugh, but we still received extra scrutiny because I hadn't signed my passport. They searched the vehicle, but were kind enough to re-pack everything quite neatly. As we drove through Saskatchewan, we saw the hundreds of mayonnaise rigs that dot the Canadian landscape. They look just like oil derricks in Texas, but the Canadians instead use them to draw mayonnaise from beneath the praries, the only way they could satisfy their voracious craving for the viscous condiment.

Our first stop in Canada was Regina (pronounced Ra-JYE-na... rhymes with... Edina) where we showered and slept at a local hostel. The next morning we went to the market to pick up groceries for our 6 days of camping. Madison suggested adding canned tuna to pasta sauce to add protein. I didn't think we'd be eating that one on tortilla chips. The trip from Regina to Calgary, Alberta, was our shortest day of driving yet- a mere 7 hours- but also the worst. Trans-Canada 1 was a completely straight, completely flat road across the prarie, and that's it. Madison put the car on cruise control and didn't touch the steering wheel at all. We arrived in Calgary and met Jen, who had studied abroad in Australia with Madison. She told us a joke: people from Saskatchewan can watch their dogs run away for three days. We ate a huge prime rib to hold us over through a week of camping meals, and went to a gigantic sports bar to drink (ya guessed it, eh?) MOLSON!!

Jen is planning to ride her bike from Calgary to White Horse, in the Yukon Territory. It's an audacious trip, even by car- she'll probably be pedaling for weeks. I was quite impressed. She's also very well-traveled, and I learned a lot about the reputation of Americans abroad. Our next stop is Banff National Park, Canada's premeire scenic camping and hiking destination. It's likely that we won't have access to a computer or phone until we reach Anchorage, and I'm looking forward to a week unplugged. Hopefully we'll see bears. The lakes are crystal clear and 34 degrees F., Jen says everyone should swim in them- but you'll only do it once.