We also had other prep to do, including getting our two dogs, Winston and Snickers, set up with the food, meds and treats they would need for a 12-day visit to their favorite day spa/hotel. The photo to the right shows a plastic container packed with food, medicine and instructions for our pups.
Thursday, July 12, 2024. For Mark and me, getting ready for a big fishing trip is a lot of work, in part because we basically own a warehouse of fishing tackle, and airlines limit what we can take on a fishing trip s (usually around 50 pounds). Decisions are difficult. On some past trips, underwear was scarified for lures.
We were up with sunlight at 5:44 a.m. I showered, loaded the luggage, fed and petted Preto, our cat, and told him I loved him. I put extra food outside for two stray cats; Mark did the same for groundhogs, as there were at least two adults and 4 babies who’d gotten used to carrots and broccoli that we’d put out just for them. That’s one of our groundhog pals to the right.
I
With the inside and outside animals taken care of, we turned pet care over to a petsitter who takes care of Preto, some fish in a fish tank, a mynah bird…and who is also kind enough to put out carrots.
We took country back roads to a highway toward Detroit Metro Airport. An hour and twenty minutes later, we got off on Merriman Road in Livonia and to the Quik Park parking lot. A shuttle was nearby, so we hustled to get our bags out of the car and on to the shuttle. We rattled our way to the airport with a half dozen other travelers.
The check-in at Detroit Metro for Air Canada was very quick—there were very few people and no waiting at all. I noted that Canada is quite full of bossy chicks, though—Mark got scolded by one bossy chick for taking liquids ouf of his bag, and I was scolded for not putting my shoes just so in the tray during the scanning process. I got hand checked for the zip-neck I was wearing. Mark’s fake knee went through without a special check.
Near our gate was Anita’s Kitchen, just opening up at 8:30 in the morning. We got a Barnyard Breakfast with eggs, home-cut potatoes, bacon, and sumac sauce. It was tasty, but gigantic even though we split it.
By 11:10 we were boarded and ready to go on a small plane–a Bombardier CRJ900–except for an Indian family that sat in first class and caused stress for a young stewardess who didn’t know only one of the Indian family spoke English. Another worker–with gray hair and a friendly, but commanding voice– showed them their actual seats in the back of the plane. And so Mark and I were alone in the front of the airplane.
Now intuitively, since Yellowknife–our final destination for the day–was way to the northwest of Detroit, going northeast to Toronto seemed like we were not making any progress at all. But such is flying instead of driving.
We ate lunch at Osmow’s, which had the best chicken schwarma I’ve had, with a little garlic sauce and tahini on top.
We arrived in Toronto an hour or so later. Toronto’s airport is huge and requires fitness and the ability to navigate twisty, turny, narrow hallways with few people. We exercised thusly for about 20 minutes and finally reached Gate D, where Mark said Yay! when he saw moving walkways. There were also a lot more people.
We exchanged $1,000 in US currency to pay our guide and housekeepers/cook staff in cash. Then there was more food to find, because it was 1:31 p.m. and we’d burned at least five calories during our long walk.
We boarded the Airbus A321-200 at 2:40. As we waited for the final boarding, “cross check” and safety talk, I looked out my window and saw this sight. I told Mark I hoped we were going in the opposite direction…which we did.
The flight from Toronto to Vancouver was four hours and 15 minutes. Being in Canada and all, it seemed appropriate to enjoy a Molson. Dinner was served mid-flight and it was “noo-noos” (as Mark calls noodles) and sauce, a tasty bit of bread and fresh spring mix with a tiny bottle of salad dressing, with a tiny piece of cheesecake. It occurred to me that it would be very easy to get fat traveling by air.
As we flew the over 2,084 miles to Vancouver, I watched the online screen in the seat in front of me and recognized many of the names of towns we were flying over–Regina, Brooks, Havre, Medicine Hat–because we’d driven what felt like the entirety of Canada last year from Michigan to Fort McMurray, Alberta, then flew to Cree Lake Lodge. Mark and I agreed the flying gig was much easier. We even got a warm wash cloth to wash our wee faces before we ate, and we got a small snack (nuts or Gardetto-like crackers) 45 minutes before we landed.
As we flew into Vancouver, I saw mountains outside the window and had a sudden pang, a longing, a, “Gee, I miss the mountains.” Mark noticed, too, and said he could live in Vancouver. (Days later I would talk to a doctor, Jed, at the fish camp, and he told me Vancouver was expensive but Vancouver Island so expensive, few people can live there. He has a doc friend who struggles with payments on a $3.1M house, which isn’t a large house).
From the airplane window, it looked pretty out there, and when we landed, I was restless–I wanted to step outside to take in the mountains.
One thing we noticed in Vancouver airport that we hadn’t seen anywhere else was a lactation pod.
The airport was small and there were few choices for a beverage. We found a restaurant/bar and ordered a Corona. We learned our waitress was from China…after she took a cell phone left by a previous patron and, speaking Mandarin, let the owner know they’d left their phone at the restaurant/bar.
We were supposed to board at 20:45, but our plane was delayed. Finally, we boarded another small plane, a Bombardier CRJ900.
As we were boarding we talked to a family from Washington DC who’d also been up since 5:30 this morning. Their kids–perhaps 8 and 10-years-old and–were both staring and holding a stuffed animal. They were fried.
A half hour later, we were at cruising altitude and more food arrived. I told Mark it was Pasta Day on Air Canada, as it was my second serving of the day. It was tasty, and the chocolate cake good, too. It did seem odd to be eating at 10:58 p.m., which was 1:58 a.m. in Michigan.
After I took a photo of my dinner, I noticed the location on my phone said we were flying over Horsefly. Lovely name for a town.
As we neared Yellowknife, I noticed that the view out the right side of the plane was black; the view out the left looked as if the sun had just set.
Yellowknife looked alive and vibrant on approach to the airport, much more alive and vibrant than I did. We landed, and at 1:49 a.m. Yellowknife time, we saw the coolest luggage carousel ever made–a polar bear on ice going after a seal. We met Daryl, who works for Plummer’s Arctic Trophy Lodge, and followed him and two other guys–Doug and Jed–to a truck. We put our luggage in the back of the truck, jumped in and rode the perhaps 7 minute ride to the Explorer Hotel. We checked in, dragged our sorry selves to the second floor and passed out in bed. It was almost 2:30 a.m., or 5:30 a.m. Michigan time. We’d been on the move for 24 hours.