6/14/22

After leaving Sara the camel, my next stop is Kipling to see the world's largest red paperclip. Since Wawa, I've been very meticulous about fueling up whenever possible especially now when I'm solo again. I fueled up at a station just down the road from Sara. With a full tank, I continue on the Red Coat Trail.

I've been battling strong winds all day and in these prairie lands there's not much respite from strong crosswinds that pushes you left and right and makes you lean your over for miles at a time. Between the winds and the heavy load, my fuel economy has been unpredictable. On top of that, I'm not sure I trust the bike's computer 100% on fuel calculation. There are times I fuel up and the remaining mileage counter can show anything from >140, >112, or >104.

Kipling is roughly 180 miles from Glenboro. About 115 miles into the trek, I find myself crossing into Saskatchewan.

I'm deep in the province. The roads are pretty terrible here - pot holes and tar snakes everywhere. I'm noticing that there are sporadic farms and oil wells out here but not many towns or gas stations. I do the math and I can't believe this. There's a chance that I may run out of gas before Kipling. And on top of that very dark clouds ahead. I continue on SK48.

I see a sign for a town call Maryfield. The sign shows the amenities available and gas is one of them. I turn off SK48 and towards Maryfield. I see the Co-op Gas. It's just a fueling facility with no attendants. Two pumps, one for regular and one for diesel and a credit card machine call Cardlock. I put my card in the machine. It doesn't read. I try again. No good. I'm starting to think that these Co-op gas stations must be restricted to some sort of membership. Nothing I can do here. I get back on the bike and move on. I reduce my speed to 55 to try my best to conserve gas.

I get a message from Ken that he's in Kipling. I asked him if he's continuing or staying. He said he may stay since it was a long day for him with the rain and wind. I replied that I'm down for staying in Kipling as well. He'll check to see if he can find a motel.

I'm about an hour away and have roughly 50 miles in the tank. It'll probably be close. SK48 takes me by another town call Fairlight but I don't bother to turn in this time. Another 15 miles down the road, I see a sign for Wawota and a garage with a couple pumps. It looks closed. It's about 7pm now and I don't expect any shops to be open out here.

I turn off the road into the lot and parked next to the pumps. They're old mechanical pumps without any credit card readers. I look around and the lights are out inside the shop. It's closed. I started to text Ken and let him know that I may run out of gas again until I turn my head to see an older man come out of the door of the shop in his dirty red jump suit. He reminded me of the professor in Back to the Future.

I asked if he was still open and pointed to the gas pump. He said sure and walked to the pump and started it up. I was so relived and happy to see him. He then got real curious about the bike and started to ask me all about it - cc, mileage, gas consumption, all the typical mechanic questions. After a load of questions about the bike, he asks if I was hungry. He just grilled up a plate of sausage. These are those random encounters on the road, the ones I'm so familiar with now. Each one of these is an opportunity to have a memory that will stick with you forever. So of course, I said sure.

Inside the shop was dim and partly cluttered, partly organized but it's only organized because those parts hanging off the wall hasn't been touched in over ten years. He has two bays in the garage and a restaurant space that he rents out. He offers me a plate of grilled hot dogs. I ate one. I was hungry since I only snacked throughout the day. He gives me a bottle of water "on the house." So I ate a couple hot dogs inside a dim garage. Turns out his name is John and he's a native of Wawota. He runs this garage but he also has a farm with 100 heads of cattle that his wife manages. He also owns a late 80s Goldwing. I asked if he's normally open this late, he said no but he had a bit of work to do since he's leaving town that weekend to visit his one year old grandson that he's hasn't seen before. Blind luck or St. Christopher looking out for me? Not sure.

I spend about 25 minutes hanging in Wawota with John. I thank him for the food and the gas, got back on the bike, opened the throttle back to my usual 70 and head toward Kipling to see the paperclip and to meet up with Ken.