Hornepayne, ON is the only regular stop for the 20 hours of train tracks between Sudbury and Sioux Lookout. i didn’t comprehend how vast the northwestern reaches of Ontario are until i rolled through them on a frequently stopping, occasionally breaking VIA rail train a few times in midwinter.

Todd got on in Hornepayne. his dad’s the engineer running the train, so Todd had a real bed in Silver & Blue (aka first class) on his way to Edmonton to work for his brother. we’re on the way to Saskatoon so we’re travelling along the same 1000 km of track, swapping stories over the table in the dining car. he was quite taken by the pb’s coffee-fueled (read: lots of evocative hand gestures) descriptions of the Moorish acequias in the Alpujarras, so he told us the moose story.

a pack of wolves had been living off a moose carcass for days. the immediate area reeked of wet dog. the carcass was picked clean, only 3 ribs and the hide were left. T and his buddy went for a look – “he had a gun, and i had my axe.” the most impressive detail? “…and there was blood everywhere – up the tree next to it, like, this high, and soaked into the snow – we shoveled down and it was red for like four feet down.”

“a lotta blood in a moose,” i nodded. Veronica, the fourth at our table, went quietly green and excused herself at this point. but i could have leaned over the table and kissed him. thanks, Todd, for the hundredth reminder of how much it’s fun being back in canada.