Thirty years ago -- in the second year of our marriage -- my husband Gene and I (with our toddler Brooke in tow) took -- what turned out to be -- a glorious two month motor trip across Canada and Alaska -- starting in Quebec and winding up in British Columbia. I still smile as I think of Gene shaving in our motor home’s rear view mirror on a cool morning by a pristine lake in Yukon Territory. I still cherish the extraordinary kindness of a farmer in Saskatchewan who rescued us from a ditch when our vehicle slid down an embankment. I still fill up with awe as I recall the staggering beauty of the Canadian Rockies. I still feel the excitement of the chuck wagon races at the Calgary Stampede, still ooh at the kick of the kitsch in Dawson’s Creek, still savor the aroma of Montreal’s culinary delights, still cherish my familial connections to Nova Scotia, still marvel at the enduring culture and artistry of the Tlingit, still delight in the metropolitan flair of Ottawa, Canada’s capitol cit
