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The Ruttle Report - Life is a Highway, But I Prefer the Back Roads

There’s plenty that the COVID pandemic has taken away from us when it comes to enjoying things indoors, so I decided to embrace what I’m still able to enjoy last weekend.

There’s plenty that the COVID pandemic has taken away from us when it comes to enjoying things indoors, so I decided to embrace what I’m still able to enjoy last weekend.

With Saturday being one of the nicest days of the spring so far, I grabbed my camera gear and hit the open road, going on a photo trek of the Lake Diefenbaker regional area.  Hey, this damn virus can’t take away wide open vistas and fresh air, can it?  I kept my eyes on the weather forecast heading into the weekend and when it was revealed to be a solid +19, I decided that a tour was just what the doctor ordered.

I start at the BOB just outside of Outlook.  Of course, you need to be a local to understand that BOB stands for Big Orange Bridge.  It seems to be pretty popular on this day; there’s a couple of motorcyclists just leaving the east side of the bridge, while another carload is packing up over on the west side.  I proceed to snap away at what I find, which includes a lot of geese enjoying the relaxation of the sand bars down below.  The biggest thing that sticks out to me about the BOB right now is the difference in the conditions of each entrance.  The west side entrance appears to be relatively clean and even has a trash can for any garbage, but the east side has its fair share of garbage and broken glass, and also has sharp and jagged plant growth coming up through the bridge grates.  It seems to be quite a contrast, this ‘Tale of Two Bridge Sides’.

I continue on my way and find myself headed south down to the resort village of Elbow, doing my fair share of “crop checking” along the way.  I’ll tell ya, one big thing I’m looking forward to in the coming weeks is taking a similar drive around the area and hopefully seeing lush, green fields of grass and bold, full fields of yellow and gold.

Upon arrival in Elbow, I notice that the village is still very quiet amidst the pandemic.  This isn’t surprising, especially when you remember that this place doesn’t necessarily “come alive” until the May long weekend, largely seen as the official kickoff to the summer season.  But it will be interesting to see if that kickoff even happens.  With places like Elbow so dependent on the summer tourism months to help get them through the slower parts of the year, what will be the impact of COVID-19 to the local economy?  Will the golf course and connecting clubhouse be okay?  Will the marina be full of boats or will people take their watercraft elsewhere?  How about other seasonal places like the popular ice cream parlor?  Questions that don’t quite have answers just yet.

I drive down to the marina office area and look out over Lake Diefenbaker.  It might be late April and approaching +20 degrees, but the ice is still stubbornly sticking around in some parts, even if it is basically a thin blanket of slush at this point.  Still, the lake is gonna need some time.  Maybe by May long, it’ll actually look like, well, a lake.

I exit Elbow and hang a left, making my way west en route to Gardiner Dam.  More fields, more wide open spaces, and it feels very freeing.  Just me, my gear, something cold to drink, and hours worth of tunes on the radio.

Less ice at the dam than at Elbow.  It’s so thin here that you can actually see the water lapping just under the thin sheet of slush.  I take some video, reminding myself to post it on Facebook later.  I take some photos contrasting the turbines with the sun and clouds before I’m on my way again.

This time, I’m leaving the main access behind and taking the back way through Macrorie and Dinsmore countryside.  Plenty of wildlife here; hawks, deer, some pronghorn.  I stop to capture a few things here and there.  Life just seems so much more peaceful away from the noise of highways and larger town areas.

I find myself back on a highway, this time Highway 42 just north of Dinsmore and I’m checking out the makeshift “lake” that exists on each side of the road.  It’s gone down significantly in recent years.  I remember when the water was up so high that it lapped onto the road and they had to put sandbags down against the rocks.

I soon turn back onto Highway 15, and I decided to end my day/evening with a Rosetown run for a bite to eat.  I’m content, satisfied, and glad to have had a day to myself.

The stats – 300+ km driven, dozens of photos snapped, endless tunes cranked to the hilt, and several deer watching me take a whiz on the side of the road.

Life is a highway, but give me the adventure of a back road anytime.

For this week, that’s been the Ruttle Report.