This space reserved for...

...a really long story!

Of course, the story grows longer as the days pass by, so I should do my due by not putting it off any longer.

I told you recently of a lifestyle change I've been preparing for.

A big one.

It involved, but has not be limited to, a whirlwind tour by truck round-trip to Quebec City.

And yes, AC, it had everything to do with a girl.



Meet Nathalie. She made the decision to move back to Calgary from Quebec City back in May, and I've been excited, not to mention a little nervous ever since.



We took this picture of us in the lobby of the Chateau Frontenac in Quebec City on April 5th. I think it's a delightful shot.

I'll give you all a fully-detailed account of the trip soon, but duty calls and I must now move some furniture out to make some room... she's off to buy a kitten she found at the pet store.... won't Tiki be pleased! Now our household is up to two dogs, two cats and a rabbit... not to mention four humans.

Tally-ho!

Oh, yes, more on my visit with AC as well...

A bientoi!

When's the next train?

OK, you all know I love trains, rail lines... pretty much anything to do with railways in general. My friend Utah and I went walking in Edworthy Park yesterday.


The CPR tracks run east/west along the south end of the park, and as we walked the Douglas Fir Trail, we came to an opening that exposed the railway.



Honestly, I'm not in the habit of tying girls to train tracks... this one volunteered all on her own!




It was a beautiful evening for photos all around... this one of Calgary's downtown core demonstrates why so many people were upset at the height of the Petro Canada Buiding; what's Calgary's skyscape without the Calgary Tower?




Last week a complete stranger told me I had a genuinely good aura about me. Looking at this photo, I tend to agree.

It can't hurt to pray

I've never really considered myself an overly "religious" sort. I think it comes from an experience I had in my mid-teens when I found myself going to church and watching all these people "going through the motions", as I saw it at the time. They would recite similar passages every week, and you could tell those who were simply rambling on from memory when a slightly different text was introduced. You know, they read the following sentence as they had the week before, only the selected version of the text was only slightly different enough to be just that. While those who were reading continued on by the text, those who were reciting from memory were caught not paying attention, and it was painfully obvious. This was only one example of the number of people I saw "going through the motions". Sometimes I felt that the clergy would do much of the same, with the same inflections on the same words, verbatim from last week. They were reading what seemed to me to be sacred words, words to be honoured and respected, not rambled off.

You often hear the story of the parishoner who dozes off during a lengthy and sometimes boring sermon, well... that happened too.

I've had a lot on my mind over the last week or so, and as I sit here in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, my thoughts have turned to prayer. I think sometimes quite seriously about my own spirituality and my approach to living life. Sometimes I wonder if I'm that very parishoner who, instead of blindly reciting words of worship, am blindly making my way through life. Sure, I'm aware of a lot of things around me, and some would agree that I'm among some of those more "self-aware".

I'm preparing for a rather dramatic change in my lifestyle right now, and it has me thinking of such things as how I conduct my life - most specifically my daily practices.

Am I paying them all the attention they so richly deserve?

I speak specifically about daily habits like domestics - quite literally, keeping house. I'm not always the most organized fellow, and every so often it causes me enough grief that I sit up and take notice.

Also, things like keeping my health. Last year at this time I remember being almost hyper-focused on it. I was on top of my regular chiropractic programme, massage therapy treatments each week and yoga. By the end of November last year I'd let a number of those things slide - like the parishoner who goes through the motions. Sure, I was "religious" about visiting the chiropractor, but all the supporting activities became very hit-and-miss.

I cleaned the inside of my van yesterday and found myself, quite literally, not satisfied. Everything was wiped down, the floor and seats vacuumed, but I started to flip out because now that it was "mostly clean", the few specks that remained stuck in the carpet, or the stains left behind from a beverage spilled were driving me completely bonkers.

Then it hit me.

Am I becoming a perfectionist?

I thought about it.

Hard.

I remember when I first started working with sound systems and electronics. I, at 16 or 18 years of age, had the best sounding stuff. I was so fixated on the quality of gear I used that nothing else mattered. I was a perfectionist at 18, only I didn't have enough energy nor interest to carry it through all aspects of my life. It took so very much personal energy to maintain perfection in my area of interest that I found it impossible to be that way in the areas of tidiness, wardrobe (and that's a biggie for me right now - people who dress like they're "put together" impress me, whereas I, for as long as I can remember, have been quite satisfied with much less), academic study and so forth.

So here I sit, thinking about all the areas in which I've been "going through the motions". Maybe with a little more focus and some genuine prayer, starting from the inside working out, it will all come together.

Step One, back to bed for some much-needed sleep.

Turtle out - sans spell-chek

Camping in Charlevoix

I went camping last week. In Charlevoix. It's beautiful country on the St. Lawrence. Here's an idea of the landscape:


A lot of the old houses were made of stone






One of my favourite photos. I love trains and rail lines!


A bit of an "artistic" shot here






The weather was a bit rainy and wet, making the fire a bit smokey... no, a lot smokey.


Lots of plastic, a good thing too!

"How are you?" "Tired and cranky, thanks...." "Well, at least you're aware of it."

Those were the words I shared with my chiropractor this afternoon as I lay head-down on the adjusting table. I don't really like being in a grumpy mood, but sometimes it's just the way it is, and today was one of those days. Dr. Mike had some interesting input. He said that adjustments to the neck often affect positively one's "mood", almost instantly because allowing the endorphins to flow through the neuro-transmitters create for us that "feel-good" feeling. All very well and fine - I generally feel better after an adjustment any time, but honestly, it's just a bit of a down day for me.

I won't get into the details here, but I'm facing - by choice - some events over the next month or so that will be significantly, and quickly, life-changing. Those of you who are closest know what I'm talking about, however I'm not quite ready to make it public knowledge, except to say it's taken a great deal of my personal energy lately.

I came home from a bit of a camping get-away to some sad news. John Pilling passed away while I was out of town. He was the rector at our church during my early teens and twenties. Also, the current rector at the church announced that he and his wife are separating.

Need a nap.

Turtle out.

...we interrupt this broadcast to bring you...

OK, almost a week afterward, (It's Friday now) I've got some time and inspiration to write about the Mother's Day 5K race (if you'd call it that) I ran on Sunday last. To Mollie and Janice, thanks for your pre-text comments on the post and I hope this answers your questions!

I started running in December or January (It's all a big blur, really...) and along the way had a little help picking and paying for the correct shoes. Pretty much everyone in this circle of bloggers knows Sarah, and after having watched her go from blown-out knees to marathon-runner, I was concerned about what running could potentially do to me. After all, it's no wussy sport! Running is hard on things like ankles, knees, hips, spines and heads (physically if you land on it, and emotionally if you let setbacks get the best of you) To be honest, I've never really even liked running. I've never done it well, felt really clunky at it and as a result, never really put my heart into it - let alone my soul... or come to think of it, my sole, too!!

I consulted my chiropractor who, by the way, was instrumental in getting Sarah back on her feet, so I felt confident in honest words from a man who also is a runner and all-round athletic type. He said to me,

"That's great - do it, absolutely! But... start slowly. If you work into it starting now, you'll run the full 5K. If you over do it off the top, you'll be walking it, or may not do it at all."

That was enough for me. So in my true Turtle style, I dogged it. I mean, I started SLOWLY! I checked out the web for this thing they call a "walk-run" programme. The fist one I came to suggested a ratio of 90 seconds walking to 30 seconds running. Very well. I did it. There's a bike and walking path by my house, a portion of which was ideal for my training. It took me down some hill, up some hill and had some flat spots too. I discovered very quickly, though, that the cold winter air - not to mention the icy patches on the path - set me back. I couldn't seem to run when it was chilly out, let alone windy. Overall, I had a very on-again-off-again training thing going on for months. Those of you who live in the Calgary area or know people who do, know that our weather patterns here can be and are rather erratic. This year particularly has been all over the map weather-wise. Needless to say, I hadn't done a lot of running just prior to Race Day, so it was going to be an interesting challenge!

As if I didn't have enough challenges already, I had work in Banff on the Saturday night prior to the race. I crawled in the door at something like 2:30 AM, the race was to commence at 9:00 AM.

I met my sister, brother-in-law, nieces and nephew on the C-train platform at the University and we rode down together. (along with SO MANY other enthusiastic runners!)


My sister, Laura May, sporting her green walkers bib.


Here we see Doug and Julia. Julia walked the course with Laura May, Doug warmed up with the Mother's Day 5K then headed for his long-run, an additional 20-some-K in training for the full-marathon in July.



Here's Daniel - he and Doug paced together, starting out at the 8-minute-per-kilometre mark.



Nicole ran with me, requesting that we back ourselves up a bit to the 9-minute-per-kilometre start position. I wasn't going to let on, but I'm kinda glad we did, considering my state of sleep deprivation!



Eyes-front to the main stage and start line



My attempt at an artistic shot of our start position, showing the Calgary Tower. 9th. Avenue is a one-way east, however for the race we faced west."




Looking forward to the 8-minute-per-kilometre position. Can you spot Doug and Daniel?



Along the way, heading north on 4th Street, I spotted this, a gourmet hot dog joint. I've never been to Le Chien Chaud being a proud supporter of Tubby Dog on 17th Avenue, but I will one day venture back to check it out.




The race completed at Olympic Plaza, but not before passing in front of City Hall on MacLeod Trail. Here we are (Doug played photographer with my phone) after the race.

All tolled, it was a great day. I wouldn't say it qualified in my mind as a "race" more than simply a "fun-run". The course was flat, which was a pleasant surprise since the majority of my running had been on one piece of pathway with lots of hills. Wouldn't you know it though, as we rounded the corner of 10th Avenue and headed up MacLeod Trail in front of City Hall toward the finish line, there was this grade. Not much, but just enough to frustrate a newbie-runner. Here you can TASTE the finish line, and all of a sudden there's this wee challenge of a grade! It makes me laugh to think about it!

Oh, and only one little frustration during the run: I discovered a little over half-way that my timing chip had broken free of my shoe. I was clocked in at the start line, but never clocked out at the finish. I checked the stats on the website, and my name doesn't even appear as "not completed" - I simply don't exist. It kinda choked me since I'd worked toward this, my first-ever-race, for months. Ah well, I have photos and witnesses, and best of all I have the memory of a race well run.

QUEBEC - Chapter One: Planes, Trains and Automobiles

So back on April 2nd I flew to Quebec. I felt the 'everyday' simply closing in and 'routine' was getting the best of me. I was looking for something new to do, and figured I'd found it. I got up early and went about my day which included going to my Histoiographic Metafiction class. I slipped out early in order to have the extra time before my 1:00 AM flight. Terri and Emarie gave me a lift to the airport at 10:00, and I was off.

The adventure began when we were all seated on the plane, ready to go. The captain introduced himself and informed us that we would be delayed because of a change to our flight plan that required us to take on 600 litres more fuel. Also, with the weather conditions the way they were, if we departed on time we would be early into Montreal. Montreal, apparently, has a noise bylaw that does not permit landing at Pierre Elliot Trudeau airport prior to 7:00 AM. So, my adventure began by, in essence, not beginning at all. We were delayed 20 minutes.

I was amazed at how efficient and easy to navigate the Montreal terminal was. I stepped off the plane, went directly to the luggage carousel and claimed my bag - no waiting! I as much as turn around to head for the nearest exit, and what do I see?



You got it! The highlight of my breakfast was the hottest cup of coffee I've EVER had at any coffee shop! I could barely hang on to the cup! Oh, that and I was greeted at the counter bilingually with "Bonjour, hello..."

While sitting at breakfast I eyed an Internet kiosk so I decided to send a quick email to Terri to let her know I'd arrived safely. Those kiosks are coin- or credit card-operated at 10 cents per minute. The crazy keyboards are anything but standard, with hammer-touch buttons spread so far apart you cannot possibly 10-finger type. Talk about slow. There's gotta be a money-making angle there!

My next stop was the Via Rail station. I grabbed a cab. The fellow who drove me preferred to speak in English which suited me just fine. He was puzzled why I'd requested a ride to the train station when there was one directly across the road from the cab stand. All I knew was that the agent who booked my flight and train had indicated that the train was "just downtown". There was no indication on my reservation which station I was to leave from, but when I told the fellow I was going to Quebec City, he figured it was the best bet. He didn't know if there were lockers big enough for my suitcase, but I had to ditch the thing if I was to spend the day in Montreal before my 5:55 PM train to Quebec. I entered the station, not quite sure what to expect. The budding was amazing, and my photos don't do it justice, but this is what I saw:



It looked to me to be something of "Grand Central Station" - even though I haven't been to New York. Funny... it's actually called the "Grande". I must have had something of a tourist look about me, sporting my bright red backpack, toting behind me my monster suitcase - clearly I'd over packed! A porter approached me and asked in English if I needed a hand. Perfect guy to ask where I could ditch the bag, I thought! He told me that I could pre-check my bag because the schedule I was on had a baggage car. Perfect. I approached the ticket counter to exchange my voucher. There was no baggage car on my schedule. Instead, I was told that I could leave my bag with a porter, give him a bit of a tip, and he would ensure that my bag would make it on to the luggage rack at the end of my car. Oh, and there would be a surcharge for overweight. I tracked down my porter friend who seemed surprised that there was no luggage car. He agreed to care for my bag, we weighed it and sure enough it was ten pounds over. He said, " Don't worry about it - I'll take care of it." Great! I asked him where I might change a large bill since I had only a $100.00 on me after breakfast and a rather expensive cab ride. "No problem, I'll change it for you." He took my bill and returned within, literally, seconds sporting an array of bills. I peeled the top few bills and handed him a healthy tip - more than the $5.00 the ticket vender suggested was customary, but less than the $30.00 overweight fee. I figured my porter friend made much of his living looking out for tourists with cash! He did me a great service, was efficient, and scored himself some coin. Win/win, I'd say.

My plan was to tour Montreal. The cab ride in from the airport had run me close to $50.00 after a modest tip, so I figured I needed an alternate way around. I started with a tour of this Grande station. It was full of bakeries, restaurants, pubs, coffee shops and gift boutiques. Literally, you could get lost it it all! The airport aside, I was to learn, Tim Hortons no longer ruled the roost. Here in Montreal, it's Second Cup. And the train station has a huge one - also sporting this...



I loaded my Tim's mug with some Second Cup coffee and headed off to buy a map, then outside to check out the streets...


The corner of University Drive and Rene Levesque Blvd.

After a bit of a tour on foot, I returned to the station to sit and relax. Pouring over my map, I discovered what would lead to the bulk of my adventure for the day. On the reverse side was a map of the Montreal Metro. A day pass is only $9.00, and what better way for a train buff to see Montreal than... by train?


My day pass and a Second Cup coffee cleverly disguised as a Tims!

What I didn't bank on was the number of stairs a fellow has to descend to reach the Metro level! 88 to be exact...



Here's a map of the system...



I figured it would be impossible to go topside at every station and still make my 5:55 PM train, so I decided the objective would be to visit the ends of each of the four lines, go upstairs, snap a photo and proceed.

I did just that, but I will spare you most of the photos as they all look pretty similar. Here, however, is one that I found unique, and I'll tell you why:



This is the one stop I made along the blue line. It is the Universite de Montreal. What's unique in my mind is the fact the the door on the right is the entrance to the station. The door on the left is the entrance to the University.



Here in Calgary, our Univerisity station is clear across campus from any building - a cost-saving measure the City invoked, apparently at the last minute since the original line was to run straight to our MacEwan Hall Student Centre.

Four neat things about the Metro trains:

They're fast - couldn't find the stats, but I felt like I was flying
They're frequent - no more than 2 minutes between trains
There are electronic signs in the trains that display the upcoming stop
(Of which I have a photo, but it wouldn't upload)
The trains run on rubber tires! (Our metal-disc C-train is still a smoother ride though)



I'd mentioned the stairs, but I haven't mentioned the people. I must have seen thousands of faces while visiting 68 stops on 41 kilometres of track. Two incidents remain quite vivid in my mind. At one turnstile, there was a tall Afro-American fellow ahead of me. He bought his ticket and proceeded through the gate. I showed my pass to the attendant and continued through. Half way down the steps I realize this fellow was behind me. Strange, I thought. As we approach the platform, he seems anxious. The train was just pulling away as we set foot on the platform. He squeezed past me, gave me a dirty look that I needed no translation for and uttered some mono-syllabic grunt as if to say, "Idiot... we missed the train!" Wow, I thought... does 90 seconds wreck your day, man? I suppose it didn't bother me since I wasn't on a schedule, really. That, and in Calgary I've been known to wait upwards of 30 minutes for a train in off-peak times. To wait 90 seconds at any given point in the day is downright silver-service to me! Oh, and the fellow made a point of stepping on to the car ahead of the one I did. He obviously wanted nothing to do with me!

The other occurrence of note was at the one stop where I cheated and took the escalator instead of the stairs. Ahead of me was a girl who smelled absolutely delicious. "Welcome to Montreal", I'm thinking to myself. I was in the habit of looking around and happened to glance backwards down the escalator. There was a couple not four or five steps behind me, making out as they rode up the escalator. Eyes front, better to take in the aroma than the sights, as I said to myself, "No pictures, Turtle, no pictures..."

By the time I returned to Bonaventure station on the orange line, it was 4:30 PM. I had experience the sardine-nesss of full-on rush hour on the Metro. It was time to return to the Via station and head for my train to Quebec.

I have this to say about Via Rail: the train was filthy. The outside coated in mud, the windows so dirty it made picture-taking useless. The inside was relatively clean, but old and worn. The service? Absolutely amazing. The fellow serving our section was friendly and prompt, and made everyone he served feel attended to.


From my seat on the train



On the platform at Quebec City

The train was on time at 8:50 PM, so to recount the previous 24 hours, I'd been to the University of Calgary, driven to the airport, flown to Montreal, driven to the train station, rode all over Montreal, visiting the University by train, then to Quebec City by train and picked up by car. A most impressive adventure inside 24 hours, I dare say!


Chapter 2 to follow... Quebec City in pictures!