Somebody call a tow truck! Because this is a breakdown!

But not like one of those fun bass and drums breakdowns, I'm afraid. More like one that left us on the side of the road for three hours enjoying what Erica repeatedly called "a real prairie experience" (AKA peeing in a wheat field. I'm sure the farmer would have approved).

After our Lethbridge show, at around 2am, we were driving to Dave's parent's house in Calgary (our only bit of night driving this entire trip) to spend the night trading funny stories with Brent Randall and his Pinecones and enjoy a nice sleep on some beds fit for kings. But then the fan belt decided to shit the bed, so we pulled over and called CAA. The tow truck got there at 5 in the morning. I could whine about how tough it was trying to sleep in the van, but I won't, because it is a very comfortable van. If we have a problem with space, it might be because we brought too much stupid shit with us. Case in point: I still haven't used my BeDazzler.

This first setback of our tour ended really well, though. The tow truck driver was really nice and wasn't going to make two of us to take a cab to Calgary (especially awesome because Calgary was an hour and a half away). He bent the rules and let us all squeeze in. More bums than seatbelts. Tiina had to sit on Erica's lap, and seeing as I'm writing this post, I will let you know that I had the most uncomfortable seat. I was sitting on the belt buckles.



At 7:30am we dropped the van off at Canadian Tire, checked into a hotel (Thanks Edgar!!) and slept until 4pm. At which point we left for Canmore, pockets considerably lighter thanks to the repair. Like the coffee mug says: "Life's a bitch." Or maybe it says: "Instant Human. Just add coffee."



But Canmore ruled.