Hey,

We're sitting around in a Tourist booth right by the ferry terminal on PEI, waiting to hitch out to Charlottetown for the night. We left Vanessa in Halifax where she (hopefully) caught the bus back to Moncton. Having a third person for that leg of the trip was awesome.

"It's raaaiiining and I don't have my paauuuuncho. Thiiiissss stiiiiinks."

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We walked fifteen Kilometers towards Strathmore as rides were sparse, pounding back roadwiches on the way. Clouds began accumulating on the southern horizon and a strong wind prevailed - the beginnings of what a local girl claimed was the "worst storm I've seen here."

One Kilometer from Strathmore the storm hit. Lightning forked in the skies, thunder boomed, and soft hail permeated our clothes in seconds. The prairies pounded our wills.

We quickly sought refuge under a trailor advertising a Ford dealership, but still caught a large portion of the storm. An hour passed before we checked if the trailor was open. the entire back was exposed, and housed a family of swallows that quickly vacated. Every inch of the enclosure was covered with guano, but the offer of shelter too enticing to pass. We quickly layed down a tarp and set up camp after changing our clothes. Grafitti lined the walls: "From Vancouver."
I added my mark: "Me too. 2009 July."

We passed the storm sleeping and walked into town for supplies. As our water supply was sparse, we bought a two liter bottle of cider with the intentions of refilling it in the morning with water. We drank it in the trailor as the night progressed, playing harmonica and recounting our journey thus far.

The following morning found us in a laundromat attempting to dry our supplies soaked in the storm. Guiltily, we snuck our sopping shoes into a dryer and dampened the resulting noise with a sweater. Twenty minutes later they radiated warmth. We passed the time drinking Morning Thunder tea and eating Roadwiches while concealing our true intentions.

We taxied to the edge of town and started thumbing. A sedan approached slowly. Two women leaned out the passenger window. "Sorry guys, we can't give you a ride, but here's two cheeseburgers and cokes." They handed the offering over. "Don't hitchhike though; Please pray before getting into a car." They left cheeseburgerless.

A large van approached and the driver garbled to us in a hearty central Canadian accent. Miscommunication landed us thirty kilometers down the road, hours between towns. Despite our isolation, spirits remained high; Warm laundry is usually a bonus.

Another "golden ride" pulled to the paved shoulder. A short, middle aged man greeted us with kindness. The sweet aroma of cannabis wafted from his truck and a coors tall-boy waited in a cup holder. Barry completely defied my expectations upon conversation, though. Previously a horticulturist, Barry had been unemployed for six months until his money ran out. He was travelling to Estevan, Saskatchewan to work on an oil pipeline. We offered him gas money at every filling station. "Nope. You need your cash. I'd be doing this anyway." Barry was a stand-up guy.

"That's good you're doing this trip. How old are you?"
"Twenty two," we responded.
"Yup, yup. Fantastic. Pretty soon you'll have wives, kids, and mortages; Best to do this while you can."
Beneath his exterior, I could detect a sense of longing in Barry's voice.

Conversation was usually kept to a minimum, but of what little he said, I largely agreed. Most of the talk centered around environmentalism and more specifically the destruction of Alberta's wild for oil.

We crossed into Saskatchewan mid-trip, marking the furthest I've been from home. Rolling hills of green greeted us as we bounced by towns situated miles from the highway. We stopped in Swift Current and grabbed some food at Humpty's. Barry ordered a steak sandwich - rare. "I'd have to file my teeth down to eat this thing," he said between bites of the leather. "Every so often I'm tempted by the steak; Almost always dissapointed though."

We said our goodbyes on the far edge of Moose Jaw before we hiked behind an Esso Station to squat for the night. Darkness and exhaustion gave us a poor sleeping situation; Our tent centered upon a slight ridge, tilting our bodies toward the extremities of the walls. Pills of Diphenhydramine were issued from Gregg's pharmacy to counteract the sleeplessness. A rough night of disphoria ensued.