Our original destination for the 10th was some provincial park midway between Riding Mountain and Saskatoon. The kids decided, however, that they wanted to proceed directly to Saskatoon, despite the longer drive of about 6 hours. I am seeing a pattern. When we’re approaching a metropolis, they get excited at the prospect of electricity, fewer hungry insects, and professionally prepared meals, and are anxious to speed up the schedule. In horse terms, we call this smelling the barn. Psh, I say. What has civilisation ever brought us except comfort, health, and longer life spans?

Another factor in their eagerness to see Saskatoon – and likely the prime reason – was the prospect of seeing Mama. Our plan was to pick her up from the airport in Saskatoon on the 12th, so she could join the expedition for two weeks. There have been a couple of tearful episodes so far. When they pause to think about it, or when they’re feeling down, Those Johnston Kids miss their mother, pets, and home, in that order. I was also looking forward to some adult company. The 12th was a big day!

The drive to Saskatoon was a trial without air conditioning. The temperature went up to 30 degrees, unbearable in a dark car. The wind offered some cooling respite, but Short Pants doesn’t generally like the wind on his face and insisted that the windows be rolled up. I humoured him to make a point. You can guess how long that lasted. With sweat beading on his forehead, Short Pants conceded that perhaps leaving the windows down was a better strategy. Not long after that, the two of them were hanging out the open windows (doors locked, seatbelts on, of course), wagging their tongues like rez dogs.

We were still half-roasted by the time we reached Saskatoon. I pledged to take the car into Canadian Tire first thing in the morning. Spending the rest of the summer in the Johnston family mobile broiler was simply not tenable.

Our next campsite was reserved at Campland RV Resort. You’ve read my puzzlement over the whole RV lifestyle, but Campland was a whole new level of RV experience. It is about 10 km west of Saskatoon, built 5 years ago on what must have been a farm at some point. There are few trees, and none is taller than me in any case. There is a grid of gravel roads connected by large pull-through parking/camping sites. It resembles nothing so much as a very large parking lot, albeit very well maintained. In between each spacious gravel driveway is the most lush, green, perfect  lawn I have ever seen outside of a golf course. Seriously, Those Johnston Kids burst out of the car as soon as we stopped and starting jumping on it like it was a bouncy castle. My hat is off to Campland’s ground crew. Awesome stuff.

I guess I just don’t understand RVing as an end in itself. Heck, I don’t even like camping. Why pretend to live somewhere that’s just like home only less comfortable or convenient? I only rarely go out into the wild and just stop. That seems pointless to me. I will happily rough it on the way to somewhere, though. This summer, I feel like we have a destination ahead of us. I’m not sure where it is, and I’m not sure that we’ll even know for years, but this trip will take us someplace we’ll never forget.