Saturday morning,

We’re on the road again. Driving through the Rockies is amazing. We’ve seen a multitude of mountains on this journey, but these are unique. They’re more than just a lot higher. These mountains reach into the sky. The road at times is literally hanging off the edge of the mountain. I keep saying to Tom, “Look…” , followed immediately with “No, don’t look, keep your eyes on the road.” Around every corner is a glacial river, a mountain stream, a tiny waterfall sprouting out of the rock face. At one point, this morning, we went over a bridge from one mountain top to another. I feel as if our little Honda Fit is truly an airplane as we, literally, weave in and out of the clouds. This is like traveling through a Salvador Dali painting with clouds and trees and roads melting off the edge of mountains. Tom says the mountains are “savage” here. For me they are much too beautiful, overwhelming and holy, to be “savage”. They don’t hover or tower or menace. Their craggy rock faces and crowns point upward to God They stand straight and tall declaring their strength to the world.

Much of this trip from Golden to Banff is under construction. Now, that is savage. Dangling off the side of a mountain building a road requires tremendous fortitude. No amount of money would induce me to do it.

We stopped for coffee at Tim Horton’s. I stood at the back of a long line, Tom’s “Canadian Food Grains Bank” coffee cup in hand. A woman came up and touched my shoulder.

“You’re going to think this is crazy,” she said, “but I like your cup. My husband and I are supporters of the Food Grains Bank. We’ve grown grain for them.”

And so started a wonderful conversation. They are both pastors with the Mennonite church. He had been to Ethiopia and seen the grain delivered. In the end we exchanged business cards, sold two books and made a wonderful connection.

My books are a fabulous way to connect with strangers on a spiritual level.
It’s ten a.m. and we’ve reached the foothills. Calgary here we come.