7/10/15, “Of Stadiums and Plaques”
Calgary, Alberta
I have now been inside each of the 11 Olympic Stadiums (summer and
winter) in North America, and this is a momentous occasion. Each one has been its own adventure. Montreal (Summer 1976), I had just gotten my
passport and drove up to Canada for the weekend, the first time I had left the
country in a decade. St. Louis (Summer
1904), served as the track for the Washington University, but it was under
construction, so we had to sneak in.
Atlanta (Summer 1996), had to go to an Atlanta Braves game, and
apparently they are about to tear it down now.
Los Angeles (Summer 1932, 1984) had to call ahead before I left on the
trip to the stadium director to arrange access.
Squaw Valley (Winter 1960), stadium has been torn down, had to use my
GPS coordinates and old pictures to figure out where it used to stand. Lake Placid (Winter 1980), now a horse
grounds, and it was covered in snow, had to trek to the snow to get the spot. Lake Placid (Winter 1932), now a skating
rink, had to rent speed skates to be allowed inside. Vancouver (Winter 2010), special trip for the
purpose, had to buy a ticket to a soccer game, too, just to walk around inside
and take pictures. Salt Lake City
(Winter 2002), same story. Mexico City (Summer
1968), same story, but it was on the second trip, since the first time around I
failed at sneaking in. Now, here in
Calgary (Winter 1988), it was much simpler.
In all my travel adventures, getting into Stadiums and finding Plaques
always seem to give me the most trouble.
Today is focused around doing both.
I woke up a little later than I had wanted to and packed and went down
for breakfast, the same as yesterday. I
then headed into the town of Banff, which was a letdown, and there would not be
any more places to stop along the road.
I would go straight from the VC to the airport, where I would exchange
my car. The VC had the Official Parks
Canada souvenirs, I found the plaque with minimal difficulty, and then went to
a touristy gift shop before heading out.
I was at the airport around 11 PM, but all they had to exchange was a
compact car. I gave it a try. It was perfectly comfortable, so I did the
swap before heading to the Olympic Stadium.
When I got there, I saw lots of cars in the parking lot, surely
something was going on there. Hmm, what
could it be? I walked around, looking
for an entrance, and I found the amateur sports area, which had lots of
students. I casually asked one how I
could get on the field. He pointed to a
door that said “Authorized Personnel Only” and told me how to get there. Wait, did this gambit really work? I soon heard lots of noise and saw the
field. I was there. This was it.
All 11 Olympic Stadiums in North America. I took some ceremonial pictures and then
found a nice seat in the stands, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I
will now close so that I can take some more ceremonial pictures and make my way
to Regina.
I have been using a lot of superlatives this trip, and I will toss in a couple
more in this entry for good measure, one about Saskatchewan, another about the
last WHS I visited in Alberta this afternoon.
Saskatchewan is, quite probably, the most boring place I have ever
visited. I am in the heart of the
capital city, and there is nothing here, just a decent-sized casino and a small
shopping mall. My hotel, at 25 storeys,
is the highest in the whole city. There
are no World Heritage Sites here, no Stadiums, no Plaques, just the Legislative
Building. As soon as I take my
ceremonial picture and light up my Cuban, it’ll be Saskatchewan complete. There are no scenic mountain or lake vistas,
just endless prairie. It is boring
af. (Reader, if you are over 30, cf.
Urban Dictionary for that term.) It is
now just over 12 hours since I closed at the Stadium, and it feels like a
lifetime ago. I thought I was just going
to get another Plaque and make my way to Regina, which is pronounced
Ruh-GY-nuh, not Ruh-GEE-nuh as I had thought.
Tomorrow will be a day for relaxation, and this boring place should be
perfect for that.
Okay, so after I
closed, I took a few more ceremonial pictures and then went back to my car,
punching in a cigar store for my destination, since I had used up an extra
Cuban at Waterton, and I was now one short.
After I grabbed a quick lunch near the destination, I walked to the
cigar store. I took one look at the
prices and almost walked out. Even with
the strong dollar, they were more than twice as expensive as they would have
been in Western Europe or Mexico. The
tobacco tax was brutal. I could not
justify buying more than one cigar, and I opted for a Ramon Allones Canada
Exclusivo. I would smoke that at
Dinosaur, but I smoked a Jericho Hill on the drive. Dinosaur Provincial Park was pretty much in
Bumblefuck, Alberta, the middle of nowhere.
Until I read the UNESCO description this morning, I had no idea what to
expect. The words UN offered did nothing
to prepare me for what I found. “In
addition to its particularly beautiful scenery, Dinosaur Provincial Park –
located at the heart of the province of Alberta's badlands – contains some of
the most important fossil discoveries ever made from the 'Age of Reptiles', in
particular about 35 species of dinosaur, dating back some 75 million years.” I thought dinosaur was just a fun name for
the park, didn’t realize they actually had fossils.
I got to the entrance, and it was all there,
the flags, the Plaque, the scenic vista.
I had the whole area to myself, and I parked my car. Well, the vista, unbelievable. There was only one thing to do. I opened up my streaming music app and chose
the only piece of music that could make it more magical, as I walked around to
take my ceremonial pictures. Without a
doubt, it was the single most scenic vista I had ever seen in all my
travels. Overwhelmed by the sheer beauty
of it, I wiped the tears from my eyes, as the theme from Jurassic Park blared
from my phone. In the hundred-degree
sweltering heat, I lit up my Ramon Allones Canada Exclusivo and announced,
“Alberta Complete.” No other words were
necessary, and the tears resumed.
It
took me two trips. There are five World
Heritage Sites in Alberta and a Winter Stadium.
If Regina is Canada’s most boring province, Alberta might be its most
interesting. Even this picture cannot do
justice, and the magic was only enhanced by love of Jurassic Park. With John Williams’s theme blasting, it did
not take much imagination to see a herd of Brontosauri wading in the river and
Dr. Alan Grant saying, “They do move in herds!”
After the novelty wore off, a family came, and I enlisted the help of
the father to take pictures of me with the Plaque.
I then headed down to the VC, where I got my
souvenirs and found out how to kill an hour.
There was a trail behind the VC, so I walked that for a bit, and every
time I heard those iconic bars, I could see the dinosaurs. When I reflect on the trip, I do not doubt
that I will consider this the absolute highlight of the entire trip, possibly
maybe even consider the moment I described at the overlook to be in my top five
travel moments of all time. I finished
the cigar and got back in the car, playing the theme now through the car’s speaker
system. There was a scenic road by the
campgrounds, so I went there. The road
was rough, and, with the music playing, I felt like I was in one of those
iconic jeeps from Jurassic Park. The
magic continued, as I made my way through the drive, stopping at the trails and
to see some fossils.
After I was done, I
went back towards the VC, where I got my, well, whatever I call a meal at 5 PM,
which was a bison burger, not well done.
I mean, it was cooked well-done.
They just did a bad job making the burger. I had my hotel in Regina in my GPS, and I
would only need to stop for gas, food, and pictures. With a working fuel gauge, I now only needed
to gas up every 300 miles or so. The
tank only holds 11.1 gallons, but it gets good mileage. Wait, I got the order wrong, I think. The burger was first, then the drive. It doesn’t matter. Either way, afterwards, I stopped back at the
overlook for some ceremonial pictures with my water bottle and the brochure I
had gotten at the VC. I took some at one
overlook and then went to the Plaque.
Wait, where was my brochure? I
panicked. I drove back to the first area
and found it had fallen out of my pocket.
I retrieved it and then went back to the plaque to take some more
ceremonial pictures. It was almost six
hours to Regina from there. Fortunately,
or perhaps unfortunately, almost all of it would be on the Trans-Canadian
Highway. I had expected it to be like an
Interstate, but it was more like US-1 than I-95. Going through the prairie, there were no
scenic views. I had lit up a Tatuaje for
the drive and stopped for dinner as soon as the cigar was done.
I went to an A&W on the opposite side,
which added 15 minutes getting back on the highway, and I chose the wrong place
for gas, too. It was an all-around
disaster. If I had waited five minutes,
I could have gone for both gas and food on my side, right off the side of the
road. Alas. I lit up an Undercrown after dinner and
realized I would need gas before I finished the cigar, which also fucked things
up. Anyway, I was soon back on the
highway, and I would not need to stop until I reached the border with
Saskatchewan. They had a nice sign, but
it was in a rest area kind of thing, not on the side of the road, and I
overshot it by quite a few meters, which I meant I had to reverse along the shoulder,
not the easiest thing to do. I got my
ceremonial pictures and continued straight to my hotel without stopping. I had hoped to do the whole TCH stretch on
cruise control without pressing the break, but that was not to be, due to slow
downs for cities and such.
It was not long before I was at
the hotel, smoking an Avo as I listened to Les Miz in the home stretch. The guy there told me everything I needed to
know for tomorrow, where to the legislature was, where to get souvenirs (at the
legislature, most likely, and where else if not), etc. I will get to sleep in tomorrow, and I am
very happy about that. I could leave
here in the afternoon and still be good.
I just need to get to Winnipeg in time for dinner and before the souvenir
shops there close. I might even be able
to go to the souvenir shops in Winnipeg Sunday morning, not sure when I need to
leave Winnipeg on Sunday to make my flight, and I might lose an hour to a time
zone shift, not sure about that either.
I went up to my room, relaxed for half an hour, grabbed my pipe, and
went downstairs to the smoking area, where I lit up my Castello and proceeded
to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can get some sleep. It is now 2:23 AM.
7/10/15, “Of Stadiums and Plaques”
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