So I decided to take a short cut on Sunday.
Mmhmm.
Good plan.
Apparently you can go through Dalmeny and miraculously end up in Hepburn.
You probably could do it.
I couldn't seem to.
By the time my fuel light came on, I guess, well, you could say I was lost. I didn't actually realize I was lost until the fuel light came on. At that point I was forced to admit that I am not a Sunday driver and that in fact I was having no fun whatsoever on this "educational" meander through the countryside. And what was more I was hot...it was bloody warm on Sunday. And the hysteria that is borne out of gravel roads, the possibility of dying when your tank runs dry and you're eaten by wild animals who find you walking endlessly, not to mention hot, sweaty jeans is pretty extreme.
It was all I could do not to drive straight into the ditch, rip off my pants, and jump into the swamps of blue duck water lining the road.
I made it though, eventually.
I did of course run out of gas, but that wasn't until I was nearly back to Saskatoon. I was safely out of the path of any wild animals (assuming of course that creepy truckers do not fall under that category).
My story has a point. Sorry for taking so long to get here, my mom would be disappointed in this drawn out tale.
Don't take short cuts.
Just don't.
Go the long way. And make sure you don't drive to Hepburn with your fuel light on. You can make it, but sometimes the thought that you might not makes you rip your pants off in frustration...and how on earth will they explain that at your funeral?