Plagued by strong headwinds and poor water conditions, I decided on a serious push to make North Battleford by ext mid-day. Besides, we had an appointment to keep.
When Trevor first learned of my trip across the country way back in April, he promised to turn out in North Battleford. With just a mile or so to go before making the bridge just upstream of NB proper, there was no mistaking that there were people in the river bank.
There are usually people on the river by most bridges so I was uncertain if Trevor was somewhere in that crowd.
Under the bridge and paddling hard midstream against the wind
I heard someone call out ‘Welcome to Battleford!’
I figured it had to be Trevor.
I spun the canoe in the current and made for the eddy on the shore. True to his word, Trevor what waited patiently for us to paddle by. Between him, his friends, and two beautiful little girls, we could not have had a warmer prairie welcome.
Those that keep their word are the salt of the earth. Count Trevor among them. Canada is full of these kinds of folks and we are a better country for it.