Hieberts, We Have Lift-Off

February 8th – Winkler, Manitoba to Council Bluffs, IA
Well, the departure day finally arrived; a glorious day despite being hounded by weather forecasts ranging from gloomy to dire for the northern prairies.

That said, the weather was fine as Brother Bob pulled up in front of Ruth's and my house in Winnipeg at 6:30 a.m. He'd driven in to aid the endeavour, and to allow Ruth the opportunity to get to church for choir. I handed Bob a hot homemade latté as he and Ruth caught up, then we loaded his car and set off for Winkler. Jethro Tull's "This Was" the big ol' Lincoln, making for a flashback to the fall of 1969, when I first learned about this manifestation of the English music invasion. Catching up bro-to-bro was a treat, with our conversation ranging much more into philosophical and sociological terrain than would typically be the case. Hardly a word about motorcycles. As we were nearing our destination, my cell phone signaled the arrival of a text message: Brother Ken, in Zhuhai, China, was sending his thoughts and wishes for a good trip.

We arrived at the folks' place about 8:15 to find Mom & Dad looking quite keen to be on the way. The car was loaded and, by 8:45, farewell photos had been taken, hugs had been exchanged, GPS coordinates entered. A final wave to Bob and we were on our way.

On arrival at the U.S. Entry Portal at Pembina, ND, I presented our passports to a lovely, open-faced female Customs officer. What a difference traveling with your parents. Her huge blue eyes, framed by a blonde head of hair, were welcoming and friendly. The questions were few and non-confrontational, as if she had already determined that the three of us posed no threat whatever to anyone.

As we headed out onto I29, Dad, who had until now been a little anxious, broke into the opening lines of "Oh Susanna," asking whether I had brought my banjo. I suggested I might buy one on arrival at Abe & Janet's so "I could come from Alabama" with same. The temperatures continued to rise, the sun shone from a cloudless blue sky, and the folks began to realize that all the anxiety of anticipation and packing was now being swept away by the launch of this little adventure.

Following the folks' satisfying introduction to the culinary delights of Arby's of North Fargo, we headed out again and Dad began to reminisce about his travels through this area in 1947. Despite WWII having been over for two years, the U.S. farm labour pool was still overwhelmed and – quite lterally – undermanned. Canadian custom combine operations had been invited to assist with harvest throughout the grain-belt. Dad left his young bride and, with Dave Friesen and Jake Derksen, set off for western Kansas with a combine loaded on the back of a two-ton truck. Dad remembers the truck's synthetic tires repeatedly bursting due to the heat and weight, and having to perch on the pickup of the combine and rotate the harvester reel as they crawled through a low and narrow bridge.

Dave Friesen has offered Dad half ownership of the combine, but Dad didn't have the capital. They worked a deal whereby Dad would earn 1/3 of the earning by doing all the combining to pay for his half. Remember, this was before operator cabs or air-conditioning on farm equipment. He would sit out in the open, in the sun, the dust and the heat for as much as 16 hours a day.

Dad recalls that they were just about finished their jobs in Kansas after about a month, and were about to head further north when they got a letter from Dave's wife saying that swathing had begun back in Manitoba and that farmers were asking about the team's return to do the harvesting. The sad irony was that, upon returning to Manitoba, the ideal harvesting weather was drowned out by a month of rain, a month when they could have been making big money down on U.S. fields.

We stopped in Watertown (preceded, of course, by a number of other pit stops) for our first refueling (yes, Lawrence Klippenstein of Woodhaven Toyota, we're keeping very careful track of the fuel economy) and a cup of coffee.

The temperatures fluctuated throughout the day, beginning at -13º C, climbing to +4, sliding back down to the freezing point and settling, as we ended the day in Council Bluffs, at about +8 around 6:20 p.m.

We opted for the first hotel we stopped at, got our bags into the room, and headed out in search of our evening meal. The recommended Golden Corral family restaurant clearly reflected its reputation by way of a waiting line as we pulled up, so we opted for the Crocker Barrel a block away. Mom especially seemed to find this a good choice as she made short work of the homestyle chicken special. The spicy catfish wasn't bad either, but the jury is still out on Dad's pork chip.

On returning to the room, the folks got their first look at this blog page and, having read most of it, said nothing about terminating the project. Hence, this post. The challenge, however, was that the Day's Inn router was jamming, and no one was capable of or prepared to fix it. So this post could not be uploaded until Feb. 9th.

For the statistically driven, we managed to put away 617 miles on Day One. More importantly, it appears that M&D are getting into the groove and looking forward to another great day, although The Weather Channel is less enthusiastic about the quality of the weather we may experience as continue south. More to follow, and love to all at home or hitching with us.