Tonight, Thursday, August 11, finds us in Lloydminster, where Alberta becomes Saskatchewan on the main drag, right in the middle of town. It is cold, windy—a beautiful evening with gray clouds and a brilliant sun highlighting the white backs of motorhomes and trailers, green-leafed trees; making shadows on the tiny green lawns between our vehicles. A perfect night for pictures. But we have a rapidly dwindling 4 hours of wi-fi purchased here this evening and I have unfinished pieces to blog.

As we head home, time passes rapidly. I can't do my chores and write enough. Things are a jumble. Something about mountains that won't tie itself up nicely. What I need to say about our solitary night next to Kluane Lake in the Yukon Territory. None of it is in order; nothing quite finished. And to make things worse, Elvis will surely need to be lifted out soon to pee. For now though, he is miraculously quiet; this sweet mysterious oldman dog who is a master of constant querulous nerve-wracking emotion-provoking whining high-pitched exclamations—when he isn't sleeping, drinking water or out peeing.

So I'm posting bits and pieces, pulled from their proper places in time. Which is how they will remain in my mind once the days of this journey are far behind me, moments shifting, rearranging, falling into place as they will.