Well, dear readers, we are finally crossing into Canada from Montana. There was a moment of doubt, however, when the border police told the driver (unnamed to protect the guilty), "The next time you come through here you need to stop back at the stop sign." (And here he pointed out the sign behind us.) "The one you just blew by." Seeing the trepidation on our faces, he smiled and returned our passports, then waved us on through. I wonder if he heard our sighs.
We spent the night in Lethbridge, Alberta. The following morning we were up and ready to hit the road.
But first we wanted to see the famous bridge this town was named for. It is supposed to be very high though you can't tell here because of the grassy hills in front of its supports.
The grooves in these hills were made by glaciers back during the ice age. I recognized them because Kathleen has taught me well. The information impressed Hillary and, since we no longer had cell service to call and confirm it with our resident geologist, she had to believe me! This pic is for you, Kathleen.
The elevation increased as we drove through Alberta and the Canadian Rockies were spectacular. Many charming and neat little farms were positioned in the green fields along the highway. This isn't the prettiest, but it is the one we photographed. Lots of them had red roofs. Very rural and provincial landscapes.
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