We decided – well she decided and I agreed – to set off on Friday afternoon instead of Saturday morning. Instead of doing an eight hour drive to Bismarck, we just did the four hours to Grand Forks. We were going to eat out anyway, even if we were at home, on account of the fridge is empty. This way, we get to eat at the Toasted Frog. And we get an easy run today.
So. This year, things are going to be different. Not all things, it will still be Caroline and myself in the same Honda CRV (which is coming up on quarter of a million kilometers) and we will still be ably misguided by Dingbat, our Garmin GPS. He’s uncanny. He almost always knows almost exactly where we are and almost exactly how to get where we’re going. But I wanted to write about what’s different. Me, mostly. After neglecting myself for several years, I got very heavy and developed some predictable health issues. So I finally got motivated to look after myself. I’ve been walking every day, and I’ve lost eighty pounds since this time last year. I’m feeling much better – happier and more energetic. Caroline has started walking as well, and she’s lost some weight, too.
So we’ll both be going for a walk every day during our travels. This morning we plan to do a scenic bit of the river walk starting downtown in Grand Forks by the farmer’s market, which will be just setting up as we finish.
This blog has always been food-oriented, and it still will be, but there will be a noticeable change in the kind of food we eat. Patty melts and fries won’t be happening. The new Tim doesn’t eat butter, bacon or sugar. He does eat fish, though, and what better place to find some than Seattle?
Which brings us back to travel. Spent Friday frantically running around Kenora, paying my property taxes, getting a brake lamp changed on the car and herding cats. Caroline finished work at 1400 and we managed to be on the highway at 1600 with a Grand Forks ETA of 2030 ish. Late for supper, but not impossibly late.
Dingbat didn’t suggest the Steinbach route, so we went to Winnipeg to turn south on Pembina. Which was a pity, because an accident on the Perimeter highway had closed the right lane just before a construction zone closed the left lane. So all the signs said left lane closed ahead, causing great confusion. I picture Traffic Satan laughing and rubbing his red hands with glee. After that, it was easy and the border was quieter than I expected – there were just three cars waiting in each of the two open lanes. The customs agent did not care that I look about half the size of my passport photo.