to Grasswood, SK

Reine and Dan have left for work before I get up so I fold up the quilt that Dan loaned me last night, and have to put it on a plastic lawn chair beside their little trailer which is locked, and turn the chair so that it is against the trailer facing in to keep the wind from picking it up and giving it to the next county.
This is the nicest campground I have been in so far.
The washrooms are lovely, and there is a laundry. For a loonie you can do a wash, and for 25 cents you can dry the whole load.
By noon, I 'Am on the Road Again, Willie Nelson, and loving it, as the wind is at my back.
It's only 30 miles to Saskatoon from Langham, and Dan has suggested what streets to use that should get me down to the bike shop. I need a new helmet as the padding in this one is loose. I want a bigger sleeping bag, too. The one I have now is Josie's, who is size 6-8, while I'm size 16 but losing.

22 km north of Saskatoon I pass a small red-haired doll on the highway. At first, I tell myself to ignore it, but a ways down the road, I just HAVE to turn around and go back. I am just going to get a photo it, you see. She has a scrunched and broken right leg. When I pick her up, the booted leg falls off. I put her up against the grasses and take the pic. Shall I take her, I ask myself? I just can't leave her there, although I feel uncomfortable at first. It feels like I might be bringing bad luck to myself. What nonsense, but then I've been alone too long. Also, we have a doll doctor here in Prince Edward County and so I tuck her in among the clothes panier, and name her 'Missy'. Later in the day, I change her name to 'Sassy' because I've found her so close to Saskatoon.
Saskatoon Sassy

By mid-afternoon, I'm in Saskatoon at a northend Tim Horton's. Since I only have $2.00 cash, it means buying a muffin to go with my Gatorade. I mainly need the rest and the air conditioning.
This is rather a big city to be cycling through. So far I have stayed on their expressway - sure couldn't do that in Toronto.
I have to find E.B. Sports around 48th, I think and I figure it's prob. 2 miles south, near the river.
I'm wrong. I get downtown partly on the expressway because there doesn't seem to be any other way, as I stopped and asked 2 people. At one corner I am just about to ask a taxi driver who is stopped at an apt. building when my chain falls off. I'm so distracted that he gets away. I am devastated and bewildered. What to do? The bike is so heavy and awkward, but I think to put it up on the kickstand, pedal slowly and guide the chain back on. It works! Increases my sense of self-worth immensely.
I'm thinking that the store is likely across the river - my nemisis, The North Saskatchewan - and so I coast down the main street, a stop-light at every block. Lots of suppertime traffic. A youngish native fellow puts his head out of the car window and asks where I started and how far I've gone. I answer Edmonton, about 900 km. (or whatever it was then). He yells 'Yay' with a thumbs up. So much fun. I'm grinning and enjoying it thoroughly.
At the bridge, there is no way a bike can join the traffic safely to get across.
I cycle around and ask someone how to get across. He points down to the end of the street beside the bridge, and says cyclists have been coming and going from there all day.
It's fenced, but I ask the men who are working there, and they point towards the bridge, but underneath it, and let me through the work area.
I cycle on a path that takes me under the bridge and it's all construction so I follow the path a ways in the semi-darkness along a 4 ft. high ridge of earth. The path ends 200 ft. in, although I know the river must be close. There is only one way out of here other than back, and I hate going back, and that is down the ridge. After dismounting, I have to remove the four paniers, the sleeping bag, sleeping mat, and blanket, and drop them over the side of the ridge to the dirt below. A grader is working down there leveling the dirt and smoothing it for paving, I guess, but he stays back. Then I have to lift the bike and drop it, hoping I break nothing, and then somehow get down myself. It surely isn't easy as it's 4 ft. at least, but I manage, and then pray I can get the paniers back on, as full as they are. It's a real struggle for me. I'm so hot and dirty, and scared.
However, I push the bike up and out of the underpass-to-be and am now on the bridge with all the pavers working away. Two slow down their machines and let me by, but one does not and is only inches from me with the traffic from the two lanes to the left swishing by.
There are no stores on the south side after all, except for a variety store.
I ride for 2 miles and end up on a secondary highway going south. Past a golf course, I decide to go back to find the main highway.
Four miles or so out of town on the south side of Saskatoon, I find Grasswood. It's a native community for the most part. The gas station has a good restaurant, and then across the 4-lane, there is camping, right beside the highway going south to Regina, but it is nice lawn for the tent. Quite a few truckers have stopped there, too. I am beside a motel but next morning I discover that the real camping area is on the other side of the motel. I always bring the bearspray and the bike light into the tent at night, though.
Its 248 km to Regina from here.