The business dates to 1929 and was first operated by Italian born Giovanni Battista (GB) “John” Catonio, who came to the Pass the decade before. Later some of his immediate family came on board and the business changed its name to Catonio Brothers. Still, to everyone it was plain old Catonio’s or sometimes mentioned as GB Catonio’s Grocery in various ads of the era. They offered Italian specialties and groceries in general.

In the 1960s directories list both a Catonio’s Groceteria and Catonio Brothers Grocers with different (but close) phone numbers. The addresses are not listed (old phone directories didn’t always do that), but data suggests they were one and the same in regards to location. Perhaps each arm of the business functioned in some differing capacity? Italian goods verses the rest of it? Wholesale and retail? Your guess is as good as ours.

In the late 1960s and beyond, it’s only shown as Catonio’s Groceteria, but they use both of the earlier phone numbers. Two lines suggest things could get busy.

The Crowsnest Historical Driving Tour pamphlet mentions Catonio’s operated out of this building on the south side of Blairmore (19th Ave) into 1965. Older phone directories do no list addresses, recall, so they’re not any help here. The firm did continue in business, that much we know, but it’s not clear if here or at a later confirmed location.

By 1975, addresses appear in local directories and shows the business at a spot right across the tracks in downtown Blairmore. That’s on 20th Ave just west of the Cosmopolitan Hotel at 120th Street (earlier 20th Street). There’s an insurance firm operating out of this location today.

The last phone book entry we can find for Catonio’s appears in the early 1980s and then they seem to vanish.

Meanwhile, GB Catonio seemed to have moved to Calgary about 1960-ish before passing on in 1967. His address in town here puts him at the very centre of what today is the business district of trendy Inglewood.

Catonio’s store is attached to a house and that was common at the time. The business owner lived where they worked and had the shortest commute on the planet. It’s the building on the left side in the photos, although the home to the right is close to touching the store’s west wall and from certain angles also looks connected.

A couple plumbing and heating firms worked out of the old store in the 1970s-1980s period and for a time (early 2000s? – records are missing) the building was part of a Bed and Breakfast (operating out of the old house?). There’s gaps in the data but left over signage for the Bee Hive B&B on a window suggest they were perhaps the last tenant.

Otherwise, the old Catonio’s Store has been vacant for long stretches and looking inside as best we could, suggests it been a while since anyone went inside. The house appears occupied or is used in some capacity, however.

Pop companies would often pay for the store’s signage in exchange for advertising and on the west wall look for a faded Pepsi logo from the 1950s-1960s period. It almost appears they painted over another sign and some (perhaps) older hard-to-decipher lettering shows at the top. To the right you’ll see “Catonio Bro’s” spelled out.

The building is a typical corner store, with big picture windows to display the wares, and a recessed door. You can look at it, even from a distance, and know instantly it was a corner store. They all shared certain design characteristic and if you’re like us, seeing that recognizable form inspires a flood of memories. Kids knew what treasures they held and were particularly good at spotting them from long distances away.

The folks would send us down to the store for the paper, or smokes, and always included an extra coin or two for penny candy. Deciding on what to choose could easily eat up ten or fifteen minutes and for a child were some of he most difficult decisions in life up to that point. Much to the annoyance of the storekeeper, no doubt.

Mojos or spearmint leaves? It’s a question for the ages and the only logical solution for a six year old was to get both.

These old family-run stores were a treasure, personable, friendly and a place to catch up on local gossip. Present day convenience stores seem so impersonal in comparison, but such is progress.

Team BIGDoer are regulars in the Crowsnest Pass (it’s our second home) and we have explored towns in the area extensively, but we really didn’t know about Catonio’s until fairly recently. That’s how it goes sometimes – you think you know a place well and then comes a special surprise like this. No doubt we passed it by before, but it didn’t click.

We’re looking at a cool little building and while we don’t have an intimate connection to it specifically, we do with places very similar. It’s the same store from our childhood, only in a different town and with a different name.

It’s easy to picture Catonio’s open, long ago, and busy with customers. How fun it is to imagine.

Thanks for reading this post and there’s lots more content coming your way, so please visit often.

Know more about the town (new tab): Blairmore Alberta.

They’re saying…

“Love history and local history best. You bring to life that which has been forgotten…” Richard O’Connor.

Random awesomeness…
Loaf N’ Jug Stores Calgary.
A Downtown West End Alley (Calgary).
Manyberries AB Train Station (Blt 1917).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: August 2021 and December 2025.
Location: Blairmore, Municipality of Crowsnest Pass, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Municipality of Crowsnest Pass, Alberta Culture & Multiculturalism, FindaGrave.com, plus Alberta Government Telephone records @ Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society and Calgary Public Library.

A faded Pepsi sign and one for Catonio Brothers (also B&B – window).

Even if mid-block, we still call it a corner store.

Catonio’s opened in the late 1920s.

The attached house (left).

On a cold December morning – Turtle Mountain in back.

The post Catonio’s Groceteria Blairmore Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Bikes are offloaded and made ready, there’s a couple practice runs and the race is on. The dust flies, there’s mud everywhere, an incredible din so loud as to be almost deafening and always present danger. It’s an adrenaline fuelled rush and a thrill to be part of. That applies to participants and spectators.

Present day…it’s a all quiet now and it’s been this way for decades. There’s a few remains left behind to remind one of what was once here, like the now grassed over track, falling down bleachers, an official’s booth and what’s left of a concession trailer. You need a a little imagination to piece it all together. No one comes by anymore except for occasional visitor such as us, and otherwise cows call it home most days.

This post is from eight years ago and today everything you see is now pretty much gone. Time marches on, but at least we had a chance to document it in the past and it’ll live on in this little write up. Our visit was on a dreadfully dreary April day with flat, lifeless light, but due to field rotations, this was the only window available to us.

Welcome to Carbon Valley Motorcycle Park.

Now back to the moment…stand there in silence on the edge edge of the track and imagine yourself a spectator. It’s easy to do. There’s the scream of engines. It just so noisy and the sound something akin to a swarm of angry bees. Banked corners, death defying jumps, high speed straightaways – a competition plays out in your mind. Cheers from those taking it in. A hot dog in hand and some thrill a minute action. Yes sir, this is some fun.

Snap back to reality and look around. It’s all over and you’re standing in a dilapidated place, forgotten and disused.

Now it’s time for photos. Aaaaaah, just stepped in a fresh one and it’s a reminder that this is cattle country.

The track dates to back the mid-1980s. A Calgary Motocross group, the Wildrose MX Association was behind it and this allowed members needing a place to hold sanctioned races, somewhere to play. They had a track in the big city of Calgary, but for all kinds of reasons couldn’t do it there. It was more for casual use and not the serious events.

They needed something suitable out on the lone prairie and far away from any neighbours. Something remote and with no one close by to disturb.

Viola and this shallow river valley would do, with the land offered up by a local farmer for a nominal lease fee. That his sons participated in the sport no doubt helped here. It was about as good a location as they could hope for.

Access was easy via a nearby highway and there were no houses or farms close by. All that noise, congestion and dust would not be a problem.

They built a dirt track following the lay of the land, and soon after, several times per year, the track hosted major events. Attendance was good and sometimes the participants numbered in the hundreds. In between there were occasional practise events, but mostly when not in use by the club the land was cattle pasture. There were always lots of cow patties left behind for race day!

An old poster shown to us promotes an event at Carbon Valley, circa 1987, and proclaims it as “Western Canada’s Finest Motocross Facility”.

By the mid-1990s the owner sold the land and this forced the group to vacate the track. They searched for for a replacement for a while, but with no luck. The problem was soon solved when their “everyday” track in an industrial section of Calgary was allowed to handle official events. The city said no before, but with a little prodding changed their minds.

This track, visible from busy Blackfoot Trail, is still there today.

The Carbon Valley track sits down in a bowl and there was a good view of the action from the lip, up where the bleachers stood. The banks, curves, jumps and the layout of the runs all look intact, albeit grassed over. An official’s booth, not long for this world will soon fall down. The chow wagon, an old Atco type trailer, sits back of the stands. A flat area to the north was for parking and below that was the pit area.

The guard shack at the entrance to the Carbon Valley property, interestingly, is from a grain elevator. It’s an old biffy and fuel storage shed repurposed. The teal-esque colours tell is it once belonged to the Alberta Wheat Pool. They probably picked up for a song or maybe for free, when one of the nearby grain elevators closed. There was a fair number in the immediate area and it might even be from Carbon. Who knows?

A dirt track leads in from the highway and into the grounds. We heard it got hellishly soft and slippery when wet. The people that came here loved dirt and mud, so it probably added to the fun and was no big bother.

Bleachers overlooked the action in the bowl below.

Carbon Valley was still in a somewhat intact state as we saw it many years ago, and even though long closed it still saw the occasional motorized visitor. Sometimes locals would sneak in on their bikes for a couple laps. The current land owner told us it happened on several occasions and they sort of shrugged it off. “Scares the cows…”

The grounds are quiet now and with the last vestiges of the facility presently gone, save for the ghost track, all that’s left are memories. Plus a few photos from those who knew it, and from us too.

When we first published this piece many years ago, we were flooded with messages from riders who knew the track. All spoke fondly of it and the great times they had riding there. Outside those circles, it’s not well known, but to members of local MX fraternity it’s fondly remembered. Enjoy the tour…

Know more about the cycle group (new tab): Wild Rose Motocross Association

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Random awesomeness…
Venini House Scarboro Calgary 1928 & 2024.
Stampede Speedway Calgary (1982-1987).
Alexandra Bridge Fraser Canyon BC.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: April, 2017.
Location: Kneehill County, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: David Pinkman of the Wild Rose Motocross Association and the landowner for access.

The tracks are grassed over, but otherwise intact.

We’re in a shallow river valley well away from any neighbours.

The guard shack came from an old Alberta Wheat Pool elevator.

The concession trailer.

The official’s stand was close to collapse.

The track was in use from the mid-’80s to mid-’90s.

The spectator’s view.

All the structures you see in this post are now gone.

Hi!

The post Carbon Valley Motorcycle Park (Gone) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Before we jump in to the backstory we should mention much data for this piece comes via old telephone books. For a travel-oriented business such as this, that relied on being found, it was a pretty good medium for getting your name out at the time. It provides us with a reliable record too and as such we use them all time for research.

The Blairmore Motel first makes mention in 1961 and vanishes from listings in 1987. It kept pretty much the same name throughout, although early on it appeared as the Blairmore Auto-Court. It appears it had at least several owners with the last calling it quits after perhaps a season or two.

Located close to the main route though town at the time, the construction of a new highway bypass in the early 1980s was likely a catalyst for it closing later that decade.

In 1962, an advert reads: “One block off main highway centre of town. Modern units – Reasonable rates.” Another from 1980 is the about same but adds: “Phone, color cable TV and kitchenettes.”

Here’s the features touted in 1986…

“Clean – quiet – comfortable.
17 approved family units.
Fully equipped kitchens
Color Cable TV – DD phones
Parking – Winter plug ins
Courtesy coffee.”

Colour TV? Comped coffee? Is this the Ritz-Carlton?!!! These might seem like trivial selling points now, but were a big thing not all that long ago. In the old days, a room was literally that, a bed, a bathroom and little else. How our expectations have changed and what was once a special feature is now the norm or even blasé. Or laughable.

It’s not clear what stood on the property before but it’s along a mostly residential street, so a house or houses are a strong possibility. The old office may indeed be a former home from before. The phone number of the Blairmore Motel was earlier that of the owner, before it was built, so it must have been their place all along.

Neither is there info on what happened right after closing. Did it just stand empty? Nothing definitive comes up in a search.

At the beginning of this century, a used car dealer operated out of the old motel office and did so up until a few years ago. That fenced in property right across the alley that bisects the two hunks of land, we believe was their property.

There’s a few old cars inside that compound, stored I guess, including some vintage beauties (1960 Ford Thunderbird and 1957 Cadillac – tail fins!). If we were to travel back in time, it’d be easy picture them parked out front of the motel. Along with a fake-wood panelled wagon.

Of the seventeen units mentioned in the quoted ad, only four remain today. It’s assumed the others were located about where that fenced lot is that we just spoke of, but their disposition is unknown.

The Blairmore Motel is in the motor-court style common to the mid-century era. That is single level and car friendly – you park right in front of your unit.

The remaining four units comprise one rectangular building. Presumably the other units were similarly grouped like this, with several per building. Perhaps they were arranged in a U-type pattern, as was common, but again, we’re only guessing. A couple alleys surround the property.

The office was a home for those running the motel and this arrangement was also typical. Found near the street and well weather beaten is what’s left of the old motel sign. The early ’90s Oldsmobile parked on the property fits in well with the gritty surroundings and completes the scene.

It almost looks like a movie set and feels untouched, even if dated and unkempt. The whole scene is rather surreal and it’s like it might still be in business. You know, a little-visited Bates’ Motel kind of place, but it’s a slow night.

How changed the motel is from where it shut down thirty five years prior, or even as built, is unknown. But we suspect time stood still here and it’s all pretty original.

Once it was little mom and pop run places like it that travellers relied on. They were small, simple, cheap and friendly. Family run and they tried a little harder.

Few such places remain and most, like the Blairmore Motel, are but a memory. Now the chains dominate the scene and they seems to lack in character.

That this one survives and remains recognizable so long after closing, for us, is a real treat. It’s just like the places we stayed at as a kid on family road trips and with that the memories come rushing back. As we often do, we stand there in the silence with the cameras put away, and imagine it back in the old days. It was busy and welcoming, and life seemed a little simpler.

Till the next town and the next retro motel we might encounter, happy trails.

Know more about the town (new tab): Blairmore Alberta Municipality of Crowsnest Pass and of this mid-century style of motel: Mid-Century Style Motor Court Motels.

They’re saying…

“I enjoy your pictures and write ups so much. They bring back a touch of nostalgia for things we used to know, or didn’t even know about. It’s all about keeping our history alive and vibrant. It’s about where we came from, and about the people that made today’s world possible. Today’s world is so fast paced and so focused on the future, which is all well and good, but it’s nice to remember too, how it was not so very long ago. Thank you Chris and Connie.” Jan Cooper.

Random awesomeness…
Calgary Transit Route #2 17th Ave SW.
The Tug SS Hosmer (1909).
Railway Barge Slip Rosebery BC (1989).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: August 2020.
Location: Blairmore, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society (phone books), Alberta Transportation and the book Crowsnest and its People.

No vacancy at the Blairmore Motel, closed in the 1980s.

The fenced compound on the property holds a few old cars.

A few units and the old office in back remains.

It almost looks like a functioning (albeit rundown) motel.

The post Blairmore Motel: No Vacancy first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Our location today is Calgary’s Mount Pleasant Neighbourhood, off 10th Street NW, and there’s been a grocery here since the early 1910s. It finally closed in the 1970s, and right from the start, and into today, the building also functioned as a residence (or residences). As was common practice in the old days, there was an apartment upstairs for the store owner. Now the whole place is a home.

The grocery business located here operated under several names over the years, but it’s last incarnation as Sunbeam Grocery was the longest uninterrupted stretch. Since it’s the most current, it’s the name people today are likely to remember the most.

The signage exposed is a faded billboard for Ginger Ale from Calgary Brewery. This storied beer making firm in the city’s Inglewood community also produced sodas at various times.

Calgary Brewing and Malting, as they were officially known, ceased to be in the early 1960s. They became part of the Canadian Breweries at this point, whose most famous brands were Carling and O’Keefe. Later still it became a Molson’s property and produced beer into the 1990s. The plant still exists but it’s mostly empty.

Calgary Brewery first started making soda during prohibition (1916-1923) and it was a way to keep the plant going. With no beer to produce, they has to do something. These non-alcoholic drinks ended up being popular enough that even after beer production returned, they continued to produce it for many decades to come. All the way until they closed up shop.

They offered many flavours – we noted lime, orange, fruit punch and grape – but it seems ginger ale was their biggest seller. We base that on the frequency of ads found during research and nothing scientific. They had slogans for that flavour: “Time for a COOL Cal”, “Season’s Treatings for friendly meetings” (Christmas themed, with two snowmen enjoying a drink), “A host of Cheer!” (with Santa and also Christmas themed) “Refreshment at its best”, “Truly Canadian – Calgary Dry Ginger Ale – Since the west began” and “Call for a Calgary Ginger Ale”.

Calgary Brewery’s iconic buffalo logo was well known in the city and region. It appeared in company ads and on bottles of beer or soda. The design changed slightly over the years, but there’s no definite timeline, so it’s hard to guess what year the one depicted on the side of this building dates from. The Calgary Brewery did some heavy marketing of soda products in the post World War Two boom period, so that era seems possible.

The first store to show up here is James Barratt Grocer about 1911-12. At this point in time, the Mount Pleasant neighbourhood had just been established and the store was on its west periphery. We’re talking the very edge of the city and beyond was farm country. The city of Calgary says the building dates from 1910, incidentally.

It became George Jones Grocery by 1913 and Pleasant Heights Grocery by 1915. George Jones (Geo Jones in ads) soon returned and a couple years later it became Mrs Mary Barratt’s Grocery (James Barratt’s wife?). Then it was Pleasant Heights Grocery again for a time. By the mid-1920s it was vacant and a few short years later appears as Pleasant Heights Grocery once more. Then the directory shows it as empty again for a stretch.

During this period the Mount Pleasant neighbourhood was still not well developed, so perhaps there was not enough population to reliably support the business. Aerial photos from the 1920s show there were more empty lots in the area than ones with homes. Not until later in the 1940s, did it it fill in completely. This may account for the store changing hands often during the early days.

All the while, it appears the upstairs was occupied, either by the person(s) running the store, or rented out. Incidentally, the storefront was on 18th Avenue, but the broad side of the building faces 10th Street, which has always been much busier with traffic.

It appears both levels functioned as residences in the early 1930s. By about 1933, it shows as McKenzie Grocery (alt: MacKenzie, Mckenzie or later Mac’s) and later that decade, Pleasant Heights Grocery again. It had many owners during this time. Later in the 1940s, Pleasant Heights Grocery became Mackenzie’s Red & White. Lots of back and forth during this time.

Red & White functioned as a collective of sorts for smaller grocery stores and offered both name recognition and better purchasing power.

J Mackenzie lived upstairs during his tenure and even did so late it the Pleasant Heights era.

At various times in the first half of the 1950s it functioned as Mac’s Red & White or J Mackenzie Grocery – same owner. Why so many business names though? By the mid-1950s it became Sunbeam Grocery (owners included Joe Wong and later Gordon Louie) and this business closed by the mid-1970s. It became the last grocery store here and with that, an era ended.

It appears the old Sunbeam Grocery mostly functioned a residence, or residences, ever since. Outside appearances suggests are are upper and lower suites today, but perhaps at times they were one. How amazing would it be to live in the old store? The odd (home?) business occupied this address from time to time in recent memory, but usually not for long. Data is a bit patchy and that’s something we see all too frequently.

Then one day while doing some work on the building, they were peeling back the layers and exposed something special. There’s the old buffalo logo for all to see, albeit faded and it’s likely been a long, long time since anyone laid eyes on it. On a more recent visit, they had removed more siding from the old Sunbeam Grocery and more parts of the old sign were gone. It’s possible that work progressed even further, resulting in even less than before.

What happens from here is unknown. We knocked on the door, but no one was about. A note was then left with no response received as yet.

Perhaps on our next visit, it’ll a be gone, or who knows.

Know more about company behind the old sign (new tab): Calgary Brewing and Malting Company.

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Random awesomeness…
Bankview Calgary: They Moved a House.
St Matthew Lutheran Calgary 70 Years Apart.
Radio Shack Westbrook Mall (Calgary).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: September, 2025.
Location: Mount Pleasant neighbourhood, Calgary Alberta.
Article references and thanks: City of Calgary, assorted Henderson Directories from the 1910s to 1960s, and Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society.

Formerly Sunbeam Grocery (& others), Calgary Mt Pleasant.

There was a corner store here from the 1910s to the 1970s.

A recently exposed Calgary Brewery Ginger Ale Billboard.

The post Sunbeam Grocery Mt Pleasant Calgary first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Pass it by and you’ll surely ask, what year is this?

This humble neighbourhood service station is a throwback to when things were done different and has all the old school elements. Full service at the pumps and repair bays are both something you don’t see much any more. They do have a convenience store of sorts (old gas station often didn’t), but it’s limited in selection and perhaps the only modern feature. The place looks like it’s right out of the 1960s…because it is.

This piece is from a few years ago and we brought it back for your enjoyment. Ours too and we really had fun making it. The context is from 2018 – keep that in mind – but we’ve added an update at the bottom of the post. Now on with the show…

Lakeview Husky is pretty much as built and dates all the way back to 1963. The architecture of that era is so different from any other period and is instantly recognizable.

Old aerial photos show it was slightly smaller when built, but they expanded it to the current size soon after (demonstrated in another aerial photo). It looks like they added a third service bay to the right (north-facing) wall and at the same time, expanded the parking lot in that direction. This was all an empty field before.

We don’t think there’s a single service station in Calgary that’s still operating in 2018, that goes back this far. In fact, we were hard pressed to even find ones from the ’70s and ’80s, save for a couple exceptions.

Today’s subject is in contrast to the huge convenience store/gas bar combos of of today. Outside being a place to top up your tank, the current incarnations differ in nearly every way compared to this outlet. Their emphasis is on selling you something – junk food or some vice – while you stop in for a fill. In the old days, selling you some gas, new tires perhaps, or doing a brake job paid the way. And they knew you by name.

This community goes back to the early 1960s and is located on the north side of the Glenmore Reservoir (hence the Lakeview name). Busy Glenmore Trail on its south periphery sort of cuts off the area from the rest of the city. It’s a neighbourhood alone and by itself and if not for popular Glenmore Park, there would be few reasons for those not living here to pass through or visit. The area around Lakeview Husky almost has a small town vibe.

We’ve seen an old photo from the early days showing the gas station and it appears pretty much as it does today. Originally Lakeview Texaco it became Lakeview Esso after 1989. Esso Canada bought out Texaco Canada that year. It then became Lakeview Husky only a few short years later, in the mid-1990s.

In the past, there was another service station nearby and it went by the name of Lakeview Shell. It was a couple blocks north and in a shopping mall complex. Built about the same time as Lakeview Texaco/Esso/Husky/Esso, it lasted into about 2010-ish.

There is, incidentally, a Shell Station in another Calgary neighbourhood (Varsity) that’s housed in a very similar building to this one, only it’s newer by a couple years. Old phone books confirm it was always a Shell. While appearing similar, it doesn’t retain all the retro charm to this degree. It’s self serve, has pumps under a canopy, but it still has service bays in use, so it’s not far off in that regard at least.

That two completing firms, Shell and Texaco used such similar architecture is curious. Usually they wanted an image unique from anyone else. A visual search showed both used their respective (similar) designs extensively in the ’60s.

It’s believed Lakeview Husky is the oldest station in town and the next oldest found is that Shell we spoke of a couple paragraphs up (late ’60s). There was that place downtown by city hall, and it was older still (1950s), but it closed recently. It looked tired (and ratty) and didn’t have the time-standing-still charm of this one.

Lakeview Husky is full service and outside some Co-op stations today, in this part of the world, there a few others that offer this. When was the last time someone filled it for you? We bet it’s been a while.

Lakeview Husky has open islands, with no roof or cover to protect one from the elements and only a couple pumps. Very different. Many gas bars today can accommodate dozens of vehicles at a time, with six, eight or even more pumps and all are usually under a protective canopy. You sure appreciate that when it’s pouring out. The pumps out front are a fairly modern, however.

They have a humble convenience store and that’s practically unheard of today. They sell a bit of pop and chips or stuff like that. The mega-marts at most gas bars in 2018 are usually bigger, with aisle after aisle (after aisle…after aisle) of stuff that’ll clog your arteries and make a heart specialist cringe. But not here – to that degree anyway.

Lakeview Husky has service bays. Back when, this was the norm, and a good income stream (now it’s Slim-Jims and smokes) but ones like it are now few and far between. Of the hundreds and hundreds of gas stations in the city, we found only a small handful that do car repair. Interestingly many of those are Husky branded, but at stations newer than this.

Lakeview is not 24hrs. Yup, a regular nine to five, or what ever it is. We visited at 7-8pm-ish and no one was around. Anyway, this neighbourhood rolls up the sidewalks after dark, so there’s not much business to be had later on. They have bathrooms reached from the outside too and you probably have to ask for a key to open them.

In the 1960s and even into the 1970s, this is how a gas station worked. It’s from another era. From what we can see, business is pretty good here, so there might no reason for change. Seems they’re making it work, even if they’re one of the last doing it this way.

We didn’t see a ding-ding-ding air bell that announced when a customer drives in. But if they don’t have one today, I bet they used to. All service stations did. As kid it was fun to set them by jumping on the hose, much to the attendant’s annoyance, and then furiously running away as though you committed the crime of the century. We were hardcore troublemakers at ten!

Husky Energy dated back to the 1930s. They originally operated out of the US, but today are mostly a Canadian company. Of the all the big players in the industry, in this country, it seems they have the smallest presence in terms of number of stations. Some Husky outlets were formerly branded Mohawk.

Gas prices on our visit were about $1.38 per litre.

Seen out front of Lakeview Husky, the first time we dropped by, and we did so twice, is a beautiful 1940s Oldsmobile. Now that’s a ride! That colour…it gorgeous! That shine! That giant chromed grill! We’re not sure if it’s 60x, 70x or 90x series (the first two models are more common), all of which seem to share the same body and to us non-experts look pretty much the same.

We understand they differ mostly inside and under the hood. As usual, we didn’t look on the car itself, having been caught up in the moment while shooting and forgetting to do so. Silly us! We really should up our game when it comes to car IDing.

This body style was produced from 1941-1948 (varying slightly depending on the model) and by the numbers this one’s probably from the years ’46 to ’48 when production was the highest. Oldsmobile cars in Canada, from that era and based on our own observations, are not the most common. We’ve only seen a couple like it.

It seems this one’s from Northern Alberta based on the club plate seen. It reads McLeod Valley Classics Auto Club, Peers Alberta.

Updates 2025. It’s now called Lakeview Service/Lakeview Esso but still looks pretty much the same otherwise. They replaced the sign out by the road with something that lights up and it seems they stay open a bit later too (7am-9pm according to the Esso Home Office). Husky Energy ceased to be a few years back and sold all their assets.

When we snapped our current photo, the price of gas was $1.37, so not much different than in 2018 here. Lakeview Esso is still full service and they still repair cars (seemed busy too). It’s all pretty much as it was…now what year is this again?

Know more about the neighbourhood (new tab): Calgary Lakeview and the firm (new tab): Husky Energy.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie are the real deal – their adventures are truly interesting and fun!” Justine Cooke.

More awesome posts…
Loaf N’ Jug Stores Calgary.
The Last Grain Elevator in Torrington.
Camera Crazy @ Pioneer Acres Museum.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: October and November, 2018 + November 2025.
Location: Lakeview neighbourhood, Calgary Alberta.
Article references and thanks: City of Calgary Archives and the Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society (Phone Books).

2018…

Lakeview Husky – nice Olds – outside access bathrooms in back.

This old Shasta.

Gas @ $138.9.

Calgary’s most retro gas station?

A rare today, full service gas station with repair bays.

2025…

It’s now Lakeview Service/Lakeview Esso.

The post Retro Service Stations: Lakeview Husky first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Customers are unforgiving and the margins…well…they’re thin. You measure them in microns. You’d have to be crazy to get into it.

Here’s a former computer outlet and the signage remains as though it’s still in business, but it’s been closed for a long time. Welcome to “Canada88.com – Alberta Computer Warehouse”, sometimes presented with 9th Ave SE Outlet in the title (since they had two locations). It operated out of an old, former Texaco Service Station and that’s an interesting place to house a business dealing in tech.

Now let’s go back to the beginning. Blackfoot Texaco dates to 1966 and when built was located on the corner of Blackfoot Trail (a stretch road that dates to the 1950s) and 9th Avenue Southeast. A firm called the Inglewood Lumber Yard occupied this lot before.

This was a busy intersection back then and there were service stations on three of the four corners. The Blackfoot Truck Stop and its legendary eatery was a stone’s throw away and is still there today. Mmmmm, breakfast with extra bacon and bottomless coffee!

Historic Colonel Walker School occupied the forth corner and it’s still there too.

Later this stretch of Blackfoot Trail was rerouted (1970s) and Blackfoot Texaco was bypassed on the one side when this happened. This likely resulted in a big decrease in passing traffic and data suggests this was the downfall of the business. The newer section of Blackfoot now runs about a block to the north and is as busy as ever.

As was common at the time, Blackfoot Texaco included service bays. Having an attached convenience store is a common feature today, but not back then. Fixing cars was actually a good money maker then and as a result most gas stations offered this service.

Blackfoot Texaco operated into the late 1970s (confirmed by phone book entries) and recall, this was about the time Blackfoot was rerouted. This change in traffic patterns must have killed them off as the two events happened almost concurrently. Later, several independent auto related businesses operated out the building – a repair shop and a used car dealer make mention. Also a demolition company was listed later on.

The pumps were pulled out once the service station closed and you can still see where the pump-islands were in some of our photos.

Canada88.com – Alberta Computer Warehouse first shows up here about 2002 and operated into about 2006-ish. That’s not long, but that’s the nature of the business. An entry for an Alberta Computer Distribution Centre also shows up for this location about this time and they were a sister company. Also a firm called Alberta Computer Security is similarly shown (in old directories).

Ever since the computer company shut down this old building has been dark. Never once have we seen any activity there – well sometimes a big truck parks in the lot, but that’s about it. We drive by often and have done so regularly for decades, so changes would easily be noted.

The website for this business, Canada88.com, is still up but now hosts a Chinese Newspaper. In the past one could dig deeper and find remnants from the computer business on pages they forgot to delete. Samsung Hard Drives! 40 gigs? I’m in! AOC monitors – we used to have one. Hercules Video Cards rule! “Canon S230 Power Shot 3.2Mega Pixel Digital Camera Retail Box with 16MB compact flash memory card….In Stock NOW!!!!”

You know, we could get into photography. Those abandoned pages appears to have been wiped away now and are no longer found.

Reading all lost pages brought on a chuckle and some fond memories. Those prices! The capacity of things and did we really get by with 128 megabytes of memory? Upgrade your 286 or 386! We reminisce, remembering brands vanished and parts long obsolete. The website was a time capsule and snapshot of computing from long ago.

This was Alberta Computer Warehouse’s second outlet and the other during the time this one operated was on 9th Avenue SW in downtown. It’s a near-straight line from that one to this one on 9th. We recall buying a one gig “Quantum” hard drive from this other shop many years back.

This other outlet seems to have vanished about 2006ish too. Too bad, because they have a good deal on Computer “Spekers” – that’s from a page on their still live (as of October 2025) website. Alberta Computer Warehouse earlier had a second location in the northeast before moving into the old Texaco. The other location was on Macleod Trail once too, but we’re getting off track.

Back on 9th Ave SE, the signage prominently displays Canada88.com in bold red and the Alberta Computer Warehouse part gets lesser billing in blue (that lower lettering is almost completely faded now). This was at a time when having an online presence was a big deal and it was worthwhile to promote it heavily. The Canada88.com website used to make mention of both stores and their second website, AlbertaComputer.com, tied to outlet one, still does the same.

The Canada88.com – Alberta Computer Warehouse building still looks every bit the service station. And more precisely every bit the Texaco Service Station. Those parallel lines of green and the distinctive round signs (long gone, but their frame is still obvious), are sure fire spotting features.

This design of Texaco station can be traced back to the 1930s in the US, but was not introduced in Canada until the late 1950s when the firm entered the market here. In the early 1960s the company came up with something new and more contemporary for the times, however, there was a transition period where both were made. This may be one of the last made in that earlier form and that it’s still so intact is amazing.

Typically the façades of Texaco Gas Stations were also decorated with stars. The stars were everywhere, including attendant uniforms – “You can trust your car to the man that wears the star” – a line from the company jingle (circa 1960s).

Texaco branded gas stations in Canada operated into the late 1980s, when the operation was absorbed by competitor Imperial Oil. Texaco still has a presence in the US.

We’re not sure what the future holds in store for this building but nothing shows up in recent searches for things like redevelopment permits. A disused building rarely lasts long in this city and given this one’s been unused for almost two decades suggests its time may be up soon.

It wouldn’t surprise us to see something happen in the future. There’s not much sentiment in Calgary for old buildings and the mindset is to bulldoze it all and put up something big and shiny. And probably soulless. It’ll happen and you know it.

Time will tell and since we drive by the site often, we’ll keep an eye on things.

We always give the old Blackfoot Texaco a second glance when passing by and imagine ourselves stopping in so an attendant can top off the tank. Check the oil too and maybe wipe the windows. Gas station attendants? There’s a memory. Now we fill it up ourselves, don’t converse with anyone the whole time, the car keeps an eye on the oil situation so we never check it, and we do the squeegeeing.

Know more about Texaco in this country (new tab): Texaco in Canada.

They’re saying…

“Their photography is wonderful and I love to read the background stories to the images” Peg Strankman.

Random awesomeness…
Rosedale Alberta 1948 & 2016.
Ghosts of the Crowsnest Subdivision.
Pilot Bay Smelter Remains.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: January 2018 and October 2025.
Location: Inglewood Neighbourhood, Calgary Alberta,
Article references and thanks: City of Calgary, Canadian Encyclopedia, Alberta Computer Warehouse/Canada88.com, Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society and old Henderson Directories.

This former Texaco was last a computer shop.

Canada88.com – Alberta Computer Warehouse closed a long time ago.

This alley & green space was Blackfoot Trail – gas station leftish of camper.

From 2018 and it looked the same.

(2018) It closed as a Texaco in the ’70s but still looks like a gas station.

The post Blackfoot Texaco – Canada88.com first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Over there in the grass, there’s a depression marking the location of something (a home?) and over this way a concrete pad that belonged to a grain elevator. A small berm, the long abandoned railway line, splits the town, but blink and you’ll miss it. Ahead are odd bits of wood and outlines of what we think is a street. Hard to tell, and that’s it my friends. It’s gone…the town is totally gone.

While Carolside is no more, there’s still something interesting here. It was a community once, holding much promise, that today defines “forgotten”. For most ghost towns something remains, a building, a street sign, a sidewalk, but here, you’re left to your imagination and an eagle eye to uncover its secrets. There’s no Instagram moments to be had standing on the property, just silence and a feeling remote and lonely.

Walk about, look down and a wee story pieces itself together, incomplete and with big gaping holes. Some parts are only guessed at. Still, it’s something. This way was the elevator and that must have been the location of a store. Maybe, if Carolside even had a store. And here it’s likely where a home or two stood.

Main and Railway is “downtown” and a block over on 1st Avenue is out in the burbs. Surprisingly mapping program show these long grown over streets as though they were still there.

This town, as the case with many prairie communities, owes it existence to the railway. The line through dates to about 1920-ish and was a branch heading south from a point near Hanna to the Red Deer River at a community called Stevesville.

This stretch (commonly called the Peavine Line) belonged to Canadian Northern Railways. Plans were to have it reach Medicine Hat, but they never made it beyond the river, even if they graded it the whole way. Soon after completion, it became a Canadian National Railways property, after a merger involving the Canadian Northern and some competitors.

Major commodities moved on this line included grain, coal and petroleum products. The last train along this section was in the late 1970s, but it didn’t matter for little dot-on-the-map Carolside. By then it was gone.

The town thrived, modestly, in the early days. It appears there was a couple homes and a store or two perhaps. The local history book is rather mute on the subject, but old newspaper accounts speak of ambitious plans. This included many potential businesses, but it may have been a little pie-in-the-sky. To what extent the town actually developed is a bit unclear. By our guess, we can see at least a half dozen depressions potentially marking the location of something.

There was a post office confirmed, however and also two grain elevators. Trains came now and then to connect Carolside to the outside world.

In very short order, the town seems to have shrivelled and died. By the 1950s, it appears only one grain elevator remained and soon after even it was gone. Even in demise, the trains still passed for a time, but now there was no reason to stop. Present day, we bet no one the highway over there even knows it was here.

Carolside came and went in the blink of a eye. While many of the other towns along this same railway line fared better, most are flirting with ghost town status today. It’s a tough area to farm, with many dry years and much hardship. Still, there’s remains of these other burgs left standing, unlike Carolside where there’s nada.

We stand there as we often do, in an empty field, and think about those who called Carolside home, or maybe lived nearby or delivered to the elevators. It’s a period movie in our heads. We kick aside a plank and find some broken pottery. We stand on a grain elevator foundation recalling a time when it was the very lifeblood for local farmers. It’s here after all, after much toil and sweat, where one’s paycheque came.

With the closing of the elevators, farmers drove to the next town closest, Sunnynook in the north or Pollockville in the south. Later those elevators closed too, so producers had go even further afield.

By the train tracks there’s a few old spikes, long buried, splinters of wood and what appears to be a tie-bar for connecting two rails. There’s few things remaining of the Peavine Line. Some raised earth by the tracks suggests the location of the train station. It would have been pretty small and an unmanned flag stop, we presume. Again, the area history book hasn’t anything to say about it.

Trains came a couple times a week and for a time it appears there was also a dedicated passenger service. Late accommodations for travellers were a coach tacked on the end of a slow moving local freights. For the last couples decades only freights roamed the line, and they were sporadic at that.

Some old line poles have been sitting out in the sun a loooong time and are cracked and bleached. They’d probably turn to dust if disturbed. There’s the odd brick, some glass shards and bits of metal underfoot.

The more we walk about, the more we can make out the streets and visibly they’re a little more packed down than the ground in between. Confirming in person what Google Maps shows, the town was two whole blocks square (well, actually rectangle). Main, Railway, 1st St S, 1st St N and 1st Ave. Carolside: a few streets and two blocks. A stone’s throw will get you from one end to the other.

Randomly point yourself in a direction of the compass and look across endless pasture. Save for one angle, where off in the distance down the “road in” (more a cart track), the highway is seen, that’s all there is. Well that, plus some tall power lines over that way. You’re looking at all the signs of human activity.

Carolside is remote and always has been. So many lost memories and we only scratched the surface. The town is on private property and not publicly accessible.

Hosting us this day is a legend that needs little introduction (just don’t give him a hammer), Johnnie Bachusky. He’s the reigning Godfather of ghost-towning and deserving of the title. As we recall, Carolside was new to him. But then again, it flies under everyone’s radar, so it’s new to most.

We’re those strange types who can appreciate a literal nothingness, but we don’t think many others get the vibe. Well, Mr Bachusky does…yes, so I guess we’re a trio of weird misfits.

Johnnie agrees, Carolside is a sombre spot, but later this day we all visited what he’s often described as “the saddest place on earth”. We’re talking of Alderson, an hour to the south, that came and went in a generation or two and which similarly almost nothing remains. It grew to be bigger than Carolside, but it too vanished completely. Perhaps we’ll repost that adventure sometime down the road.

We say our goodbyes to former town and we’re off on the next adventure. We mostly saw grass and pasture, but still it got our minds to thinking about those who came before. Let’s give a cheer for their spirit and resolve, but we know not their names.

Carolside gets it name from an early settler, after their ancestral home in Scotland. We’ve yet to see a photo of the town in any archives we’re allowed into (and that’s a lot), but we have found brief mentions in various old newspapers. Nothing much really – so and so visited family in Hanna – that sort of breaking-news fluff. But there’s little that speaks of the town itself – what was there and for how long? That information is lacking and we doubt we’ll ever know more.

This visit was on what was perhaps the hottest day of the year. Or so it felt. The sun beat down relentlessly from a near cloudless sky and without shade, it was brutal.

This article is from the archives (it holds over a 1000 posts) and it got a rewrite in the process. Stay tuned for more like this, long forgotten posts from five years or more ago, that we’ll be republishing in the days to come. Hope you enjoy them.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie explore places most of us never have heard of, let alone seen! Outstanding pictures and stories and a generous spirit in sharing. I admire their determination to tell the whole story. I love the site!” Hans Schoendorfer.

Simply fabulous…
Centre Street Nordegg Alberta 87 Years Apart.
St Peter and Paul Church 1918.
Camera Crazy @ Pioneer Acres Museum.

If you wish more information on what you’ve seen here, by all means contact us!

Date of Adventure: July, 2019.
Location: Special Areas #2, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Johnnie Bachusky, the land owner for allowing permission, plus the books: Roads to Rose Lynn, Place names of Alberta Volume II Southern Alberta & the late Jim Pearson’s Vanishing Sentinels Volume 1 (we miss the guy). Also Hanna Herald archives at the University of Lethbridge (various years).

Welcome to Carolside – the lonely road in.

Depressions like this mark the site of buildings.

The foundation of a grain elevator.

We joined up with journalist Johnnie Bachusky.

Bricks and concrete underfoot.

Looking down and see little hints of what was.

Along the rail line, a hunk of metal (bottom, middle).

Old line poles next to the abandoned railway (left).

Weathered planks suggests a building stood here.

In Carolside you have to look hard – another depression.

More odd bits, but little order to it all.

Our own Chris – photo by Johnnie Bachusky.

The post This is Carolside Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

They must have been crazy to build it and the section we explored never achieved the on-line traffic levels anticipated. Still, it lasted some sixty years.

The folks behind it (the railway, promoters and the government) had high hopes for the area, but it wouldn’t happen without irrigation. Construction on canals started concurrently, but the whole scheme soon collapsed and they remained unfinished. By the time this happened, the railway was already committed.

Remains of the canals are still there, and a silent reminder of dashed dreams. They’re not the subject of this post, but we suspect they will be some day. Today, we’re railway archeologists and looking for anything connected with this forgotten line.

We found it in a little place marked Cecil on maps (visited with permission of the landowner). All that’s left is a railway roadbed, the foundation of a grain elevator and an old loading dock. This paucity of remains means a good imagination is needed to picture what was here, but set your mind free and it all comes together. The obscure places like this fascinate and thrill us the most.

That berm marks the main track and it continues on in both directions to the horizon. You can see depressions marking the location of ties. Underfoot, there’s the odd spike or tie-plate left behind after they salvaged the track.

Another berm was for a siding and on one end there’s remains a dock for handling bulky shipments moving by railway. Like lumber or farm equipment.

On the opposite end of that same track is the remains of a single grain elevator. There’s cement pads indicating its location, that of an annex and a third for the drive house/office. Metal banding is scattered about this area.

This my friends is Cecil and you just got the full tour. We searched around the area for signs of a train station – a depression or pad – but found nothing. It was likely a flag stop and the station not much more than a shed in form, but still we thought something might remain. But, no.

The search broadened to look for signs of a house or houses nearby, but outside accommodations for the elevator operator (possibly) we don’t think there was ever anything else here. There’s no records in that regard, but still we looked and came up empty. Nothing as far as you can see and it’s just natural, undisturbed prairie.

Think of Cecil, not as a town, but as a siding along the Suffield Subdivision. It was marked on maps and still is, but then as today, there’s not much reason to note it. Still, the railway served an important function as a lifeline for people from the area, what few there were. It’s a little backwater, but an outside connection to the world was no less important than if it were a big city.

The CPR’s Suffield Subdivision branch left the mainline outside Suffield Alberta and continued on to Cecil and beyond. It then proceeded to Vauxhaull and on to Lomond, where it connected with the Lomond Subdivision. That track continued west on to a point south of Calgary where it joined with a major north/south line.

Along the easterly half of the Suffield line, it passed through arid country with no irrigation and farming was minimal. Further west there were canals or natural rainfall was sufficient to support crops. But here, that’s a hard no and as such the western section was always busier.

Otherwise it was a typical prairie grain branch, albeit longer than most and comprising two subdivisions. Track arrived in the Cecil area during 1913, but not completed to the most westerly point of the combined subdivisions until 1930.

The only shipper of note along this stretch was the Cecil grain elevator and that’s hardly enough to support its continued use (also a local coal mine, but it didn’t last long). There was also some through traffic in earlier days, but still, it was not an ideal situation. When the Cecil elevator burned down in 1973 the trains stopped running along altogether. However, the railway listed it as in-use up for a few more years, even if there was nothing moving.

“No traffic has been generated on the Hays to Suffield portion for some years.” – A Canadian Government report on grain dependant prairie branchlines from the mid-1970s. It goes on to say that authorization to remove unproductive sections of the line (and you needed a nod from the feds at the time) would occur in 1977.

Regulatory approval didn’t come easy back then and in the meantime, a railway was forced to bear the cost of the disused line. The commission was hard to convince and acted at glacial pace. Soon after they got the okay, the railway removed the rails and ties.

On the other end at the Lomond Subdivision and on westerly sections of the Suffield Subdivision, traffic was sufficient enough to keep it in use into about 2000.

Ogilvie Flour Mills built the Cecil elevator in 1940 and it was pretty typical of the era in size (35K bushels). This firm had a modest network of grain elevators across the province. The company made flour, cereals and other ground-grain products.

In 1960 Ogilvie sold their elevator network to the Alberta Wheat Pool. At some point early on in the Pool era – we think – an annex was added the west side of the building to increase its capacity. Records are scarce (and we’ve never seen a photo), but in a report from the 1960s it seems the listed capacity of the building had increased.

The Cecil elevator burned down in July 1973. By this point, it was the only grain elevator (and presumably the only shipper of any kind) along the most easterly 55km section of the line.

The next nearest grain elevators along the Suffield line were in Grantham, some 30km away by rail and after 1954, in Hays, some 15km away by rail. Hays marks the most easterly section of irrigation and from there to Suffield, it was dry as a bone.

Looking at Cecil one can’t help feel a little sadness at what was. There was never much here to begin with, but it was the centre of the world for some folks and now it’s all gone. That it was a gloomy, wet and cold day, in this remote and lonely corner of the province, did not help lift spirits. At the same time, however, it allowed a deeper connection to the things and people that came before.

Both of us stand there silent and look around, as we often do. We try to imagine it in the past but who known how right we are. Even though drenched and shivering, we take the time to reflect on this little unknown place. The cold makes it seem like hours, but it’s over in a minute or two.

We’ve known many out-of-the-way places, but none as lonely as this. Not a one, and we’re no strangers to remote backroads.

Know more about the two firms that owned the elevator (new tab): Ogilvie Flour Mills Grain Elevators and Alberta Wheat Pool.

They’re saying…

“Love the stories, love the history and appreciate the effort to document both in words and pictures before it’s all gone…” Kathleen Raines.

Random awesomeness…
Ogden Hotel Calgary 100+ Years Apart.
Ghosts of the Crowsnest Subdivision.
An Evening in Brooks.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: October, 2023.
Article references and thanks: The late Jim Pearson’s Vanishing Sentinels Book Volume 1, the University of Calgary archives, Canadian Government Grain Commission reports (1970s) and the book “From Sod to Silver”.

Ghosts of the Suffield Subdivision in Cecil Alberta (not public land).

Pads for the elevator and annex in back, office/drive house in front.

Main track right and a siding with remains of a loading dock left.

Metal banding scattered about.

A grain elevator stood here from 1940 to 1973.

Left behind when they removed the railway.

A tie plate – the siding was just to the right of the crumbling foundation.

Picking a pumpkin for Halloween.

The post Ghosts of the Suffield Subdivision first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

This famous work is purely fictional, although it is loosely based on people, places and events Robert Service the poet (and then bank employee) encountered during his time in the north. One of the people he knew was Sam McGee, the the man who lent his name to the legend. He truly did exist, although that’s where his tie-in with the story ends.

Nothing relating to Sam’s life was otherwise immortalized in the poem. Not a one. Most noteworthy, Sam McGee was not from Tennessee, but rather hailed from eastern Canada. I guess “Sam McGee from Lindsay, Kawartha Lakes Municipality, a little northwest of Peterborough, Ontario” didn’t have the proper ring to it and was not so easy to rhyme. Still, Sam was an adventuresome soul, but not in the way described by Service.

Born in the 1860s, McGee did find his way north during the great Klondike Gold Rush at the turn of the twentieth century. Landing in Whitehorse Yukon, a chance meeting between himself and the banker/poet Service is where the connection was made. McGee, while up north, only dabbled in prospecting. Road building became his trade.

His full name was William Samuel McGee, but everyone seemed to know his as Sam. For the last year or so of his life, resided in the Beiseker area of Alberta, where he passed on in August 1940.

Of all of the poems that Service wrote, this one is probably his best known work. It made Service famous and McGee too, although the latter was often a victim of ribbing thanks to the connection. Still, it seems like he begrudgingly accepted his lot and in doing so, became a legend.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
  By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
  That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
  But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
  I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ’round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! Through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ’tain’t being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”;…then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm —
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
  By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
  That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
  But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
  I cremated Sam McGee.

The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service is in the public domain.

From the Calgary Herald, September 11th, 1940…

“End of Sourdough Saga – Last Rites Held For Sam McGee, Yukoner Flies To Pal’s Funeral.”

“This afternoon they buried one of the north country’s most colourful figures, 72-year-old Sam McGee, who was “cremated” thirty-odd years ago by Robert W Service.

The story of how Sam McGee came to be the “hero” of Service’s famous poem was told today by McGee’s partner, a man who had flown down from Whitehorse, Yukon, to attend the funeral. He was Dick Corless, famous “flying prospector” of the north, who has been successfully operating an extensive prospecting and mining business in the Yukon since 1912.

Several times, since he left the Yukon 30 years ago, Sam McGee went back to his former haunts and accompanied Mr Corless on prospecting trips. He was going to go back this summer. Their equipment is still waiting for them in a little cabin at Burwash Creek, 200 miles west of Whitehorse.”

From the local history book “Beiseker’s Golden Heritage”, a passage by Margaret Toews…

“Sam McGee wasn’t from Tennessee, nor did the Yukon prospector of that name freeze to death and get cremated on the marge of Lake Lebarge in 1898. He died in his bed at the age of 74, eight miles east and three miles south of Beiseker on his daughter’s farm, worn out from a life of work and adventure. A bigger hero and a much better story than that of the frozen stiff in Robert Services’ poem.”

“And no one has ever gotten the story right”, says Mrs Emil Gramms daughter of the real Sam McGee.

Sam passed on fifteen years before his wife Ruth and on her death, she was buried next to him. A new headstone was added at this time so they could add her name, but the older, smaller one was retained as well.

Know more (new tab): The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service.

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Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: August, 2025.
Location: Level Land Cemetery, Beiseker Alberta.
Article references and thanks: UofCalgary photo archives, Calgary Herald archives @ Google Books and the book Beiseker’s Golden Heritage

The grave of the real Sam McGee (William Samuel McGee) and his wife.

The original headstone was retained even after they put in a new one.

The post Sam McGee – not from Tennessee first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Far removed from any towns, we found it along a quiet backroad in Northern Alberta. Built close to a century ago, the house was only occupied sporadically and often stood empty for long periods. For a great many decades leading to today, it’s been simply abandoned*. A lot of work went into its construction, and it seems all for naught.

This article is from about a decade ago and we reposted it for your enjoyment. To the best of our knowledge not much has changed there since our visit from 2016.

To protect the property I’m afraid we’re going to have to be a bit vague in regards to names and locations. The building is on private property, with the owner worried about vandalism and theft, or the risk of someone sustaining an injury. Such is how it goes out in the rural parts.

The house dates from the mid-1920s and records suggest it was the first structure here. It appears the the land was unbroken before that. The fellow who built it occupied it for only short time and we don’t know much about him. His last name suggests he was of Eastern European descent and lots of settlers in the area were. So it makes sense.

His age, what happened to him later or even his first name are all unknowns. It’s all a bit of a mystery. We do know he left early on and that he was a bachelor.

The structure seems built of regular timber frame construction, with a jacket of stone. This accounts for that odd jog on the second story. It’s hard to tell if the stone was in any way structural, or if it was simply a protective wrap of sorts.

One thing is certain, the rock would have kept the place nice and cool come summer. While I guess it would make a good windbreak during a blustery Alberta winter, stone is hardly a great insulator and keeping the house warm overall in the cold months may have been a real challenge.

The stone work appears well done. Even with the small footprint of the building, stacking them would have been quite the task.

It’s said this first resident started collecting stones – there’s no shortage of them in the area – to also build a barn of similar construction on the same property. For some reason it was never completed and while the walls were started, they were later knocked down. Maybe it was just too ambitious a project? A non-descript pile of stones across the road mark the site.

The next owners acquired the property in the 1930s and it’s said the house was was already empty and unlived in at that point. Afterwards it was rented out occasionally over the next few decades, to single men. The last person, described to us as a mysterious “Mad Trapper” type hermit, lived in it for a year or so in the late 1960s then left. He kept to himself, lived completely off the land, gave off a strange vibe and shunned visitors.

Ever since it’s been empty and forgotten.

This tiny stone house was never wired for electricity, nor plumbing. In what was pretty typical for old farm houses of the era, it had an outdoor privy for doing one’s business. What fun during the frigid winter, the scorching summer or a pounding rain storm.

There’s a small wood porch out back and what appears to be a root cellar of sorts under the floor boards. Splotches of green paint can be seen on some trim pieces of wood not bleached by the sun.

Heat would have come from a coal or wood stove and a fireplace. It was pretty primitive living overall, but some people thrive in such environments. It’s not for everyone, but to a select few it’s just what they need.

The modest size of the house suggests the builder never planned to have a family. There’s no way they’d ever fit and it’s comprised of a couple small rooms on the main floor and one upstairs. It especially cramped up there and with little headroom.

Being open to the outside (abandoned farm houses almost always have no window glass), the birds have got in and pooped all over everything. Moisture has caused wall plaster to fall and partiers have left their mark too.

The second owners built the corrals nearby. Aerial photos from the 1950s seems to show other buildings on the property and in close proximity to the little stone house. The image is not clear enough to make out what they are, however. Sheds and such are presumed.

In the past, this land was used as pasture for cattle grazing, but now it’s cultivated. The current owners seem okay in keeping the building, even if it gets in the way of machinery.

Hosting us this day was Edmonton based adventurer Rob Pohl, a good friend and fantastic photographer (vintage film gear mostly). We love hanging with people who have healthy passion for this strange endeavour, but that still take the time to enjoy it all for what it is. Let loose, have fun, learn something, think of those who came before and revel in the history. Just don’t take yourself too seriously.

*Abandoned does not always indicate a lack of ownership, but rather a place empty, forgotten, uninhabited, or neglected. Like the little stone house seen here, it’s someone’s place.

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Alberta Prairie Railway Excursions #41.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: March, 2016.
Article references and thanks: Gene S, Judy P, miscellaneous records at the University of Calgary, our friend Rob Pohl and various government land titles.

A visit to the cute little abandoned stone house, Northern Alberta.

A look up to those magical blue skies.

It’s not very spacious.

Built in the 1920s and last occupied in the 1960s.

Much work collecting all the stones – note faded green trim on window frame.

This post is from 2016 and brought back for your enjoyment.

The stone is more like a wrap and only goes part way up the building.

A look out from one of the three rooms.

The post The Tiny Stone House (Abandoned) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

They functioned as line-side accommodations for the “section man”, and his family. This person’s job was to inspect and maintain one “section” or length of track. He’d patrol the line on a human powered conveyance or mechanical speeder, tightening loose track bolts, resetting spikes, cleaning accumulated dirt or ice from switches and so on. They had an endless variety of tasks.

This was the day to grind, no matter the weather or conditions. For jobs too big for himself, he’d call in the maintenance of way department and let them handle it.

This is an old post from 2014, long since archived, but brought back for your enjoyment. The section house is still there (on private property), but we never photographed it as well as we did on this first visit. We updated the posts, but reused the old photos for this reason. Enjoy, and now on with the show…

A section house was always near the tracks and usually within sight of the train station. It wasn’t uncommon for the section man’s wife (it seems marriage was a requirement) to set up a garden behind the house, and perhaps adorn the building with potted flowers or other personalized decorations. Many photos of old, showing these buildings in use seem to include these elements, plus always a clothes line.

Living lineside must have been interesting, what with all those trains passing close by, shaking everything and making all that noise. Keeping the kids away from the tracks, soot from the locomotives and being woke up at odd hours…it must have tested a lot of marriages.

Section houses were typically built to a common pattern for each railway, meaning every one looked like every other. For the Canadian Pacific, this meant a modest and simple L-shaped, two story house. The railway always painted them up in the firm’s trademark shade of red/brown. Most CPR-owned buildings had this same colour applied.

This particular section house dates to around 1915, when the railway built a branchline into area from the east. The track ran from Stirling Alberta, south of Lethbridge and eventually went all the way into Saskatchewan. The line through here lasted in the late 1990s.

This section house was one of hundreds of such buildings belonging to the railway and scattered across the province.

With changes in operating procedures over the years, the railway phased out section men over time. It seemed they started in the 1950s and a couple decades later, these positions were all pretty much gone. The tracks are still inspected and maintained, but now it’s done by roving crews.

Section houses were usually torn down when no longer needed, although a few managed to survive for various reasons. Individuals bough some and moved them away for use as homes or sheds elsewhere. That’s how this one got to where it is in Orion Alberta, away from and on the opposite side of town from where the tracks used to be.

Interestingly, it did not come from this community (although there was once a section house here) and instead a person hauled it in from the next town west down the line. That’s Pakowki and it’s a total ghost town now.

The plan was to move the section house to a nearby farm, but with the unexpected passing of the owner, it only got part way. This happened in the late 1970s or early 1980s – no we spoke with in town was really all that sure. So there it sits, boarded up, abandoned and forgotten. It seemed structurally sound at the time we captured these photos, and on recent visits, looks about the same.

We’re basing that on a cursory look – the building is sealed up, so that helps keep it from degrading as quickly.

Beside this section house, we know of a few others in the region that still survive. There’s one in Manyberries, in the next town just down the same abandoned railway line and it sits where built. The owners (who also owned the old train station) seasonally rented it out to hunters and the like, but on more recent visits it looked unused.

There’s another at Champion Park, a vintage railway equipment collection near Calgary. Team BIGDoer helped paint that building a couple years back (we love to volunteer at museums), but we’ve not seen it since.

There was an interesting collection of old vehicles close to the section house. Based on what we’ve seen in more recent visits, most (all?) of the metal stuff mentioned in this last passage is gone.

The menagerie includes a curious homemade-looking tractor – bless the frugal farmer! It looks to be made of salvaged car and machinery parts, odd bits of angle iron, and other metal bits they probably had lying around.

Nearby there’s a 1970s Coleman Skiroule snowmobile (two of them, in fact). In that era there were dozens of firms who made sleds, but very remain. This is the first time we’ve come across this make, so they must be somewhat uncommon. Sledding on the prairies was and is a right of passage.

A rare Graham-Paige car (late 1920s), all twisted and mangled, is an interesting find. This make was more upscale oriented and never that terribly common. It’s about the last brand of car one would expect to find on the remote and very rural Alberta plains. We spent a disproportionate amount of time trying to identify it, but with no luck. In the end we had to turn to experts online for help (in particular, thanks Bruce). It the first and only one we’ve ever seen from this automaker.

Nearby is remains of an International Harvester truck (a plate reads “SA Cab”) and it’s an oldie. 1920s? It’s a workhorse from another time and has a simple, utilitarian wood-framed cab, with zero creature comforts. You had to be tough to drive this one, but of course, people were back then. Both the truck and that rare Graham-Paige must have been sitting here for some time.

A vintage boxcar was made into a shed. Given it’s all wood, including the underframe, it’s from no later than the early-1900s or thereabouts. Generally a wood car would last a couple decades in service, so maybe it’s been here since the early days. Either way, it’s ancient.

It was not unusual to repurpose old railcars like this and we know of a few dozen examples in Southern Alberta. We could not find any lettering and it must all have faded away, we guess. We didn’t notice if this boxcar was still in place on the more recent visits since access is different now.

There’s only a handful of people in Orion today and the section house is a reminder of what used to be. You can’t help feel a bit of sadness when looking at it, but know it was once someone’s home. A place of family and happiness. It’s all quiet now.

Know more (new tab): Canadian Pacific Railway Section House.

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Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: August, 2014.
Location: Orion, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: The late Boyd Stevens of Stevens Hardware in Orion (a long-time resident), Orion Co-op, miscellaneous CPR records, University of Calgary archives, and archives @ Exporail.
The section house is on private property and we visited with permission.

A former Canadian Pacific Railway Section House.

Remains of an old International Harvester truck nearby.

A view out the back window to another old house.

All manner of metal scattered about.

Some real old stuff here.

An International Harvester truck from the 1920s.

Remains of a rare Graham-Paige car (late 1920s).

An old wood railway boxcar nearby.

It was repurposed as a shed.

A homebrew tractor – bless the frugal farmer.

A Coleman Skiroule Snowmobile from the ’70s.

It was moved here from a nearby town many decades ago.

Once the “section man’s” home, and now it’s abandoned.

The post Canadian Pacific Railway Section House first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Accompanied by friend and fellow adventurer Robert Pohl, we take time to explore this most fascinating site on his suggestion. It’s a place of incredible sacrifice and one can’t help admire the steadfast dedication of the folks who called it home. Wandering about, we’re taken aback by the primitive conditions and overwhelming isolation of the site.

This is an old article from about a decade ago and we’ve brought it back for your enjoyment, but with a little reworking. The original photos received new edits and while we thought of reshooting the piece, the site has deteriorated badly since our first visit. They just wouldn’t work as well, so the 2016 images stayed. We also rewrote the copy for improved flow and clarity. Now let’s go…

(2016) Welcome to Saint Elias, an abandoned Monastery in N Alberta.

The monastery was founded in the early 1950s as the Hermitage (or Skete) of Saint (or Prophet) Elias. The handful of Monks residing here (5-8 is suggested) were of Ukrainian background and tied to the Russo-Greek Orthodox Church. It’s an arm of Christianity common to Eastern Europe and much of the former Soviet Union.

Many settlers in this section of Alberta, NE of Edmonton, immigrated from Ukraine and Eastern Orthodox Churches, with their distinctive “onion” domes are common to the area.

The Monks survived by farming a section of land, rather low lying and almost swamp-like in nature, at the north end of the property. It was hard going, but a Monk’s lifestyle by design is never easy. They toiled in fields that others would have deemed unsuitable for cultivation and worthless.

As time passed the population of the Monastery dwindled, with the last member leaving in the early 1960s. Perhaps conditions were too tough for even the most resilient of the group. Abandoned for well over sixty years and now forgotten, it’s slowly disappearing. All these buildings made by man are returning to nature and soon they’ll only live on in photos. Like what we’re presenting here.

In the more recent times, a new incarnation of the same order formed and today, members of Saint Elias lead lifestyles much less detached from the outside world than before. Now they live in established communities, drive cars and even use social media. None the less, strict disciplines are still the rule and they focus all their energies on their beliefs.

They don’t eschew mainstream society, but keep near its fringes. The stereotype of the hooded monk, stoic and lost in quiet contemplation, they are not.

The Monastery site includes perhaps a half dozen structures, all small and simple in construction. Some were living quarters and another functioned as a communal kitchen. One building appears to be chicken coop. Another would have served as a chapel of sorts, devoted to prayer and mediation.

Reflecting the vow-of-poverty nature of the Monastic lifestyle, they built these structurers using what ever they found or scrounged up. Walls are of salvaged lumber or logs and branches. Interiors are mud and straw, with a thick coating of white-washed plaster. That’s a common way to do in the old country, by the way. It’s crude, but functional and effective.

Doors and windows appear salvaged too, the former being cut or trimmed to fit the often odd-shaped opening to which it was placed.

The buildings at Saint Elias are very Dr Suess like, with walls at odd angles to each other. Nothing is square or even remotely level. That’s not necessarily because of settling or collapse, but that they built them this way. We’re not sure that mattered much to those who lived here. A simple life means simple things…plain and, well, simple.

An old wood thread-spool, metal bottle cap and nail make an ersatz door knob. Other building materials include cardboard, newspapers, shingles, the odd brick, fence posts, chicken wire, old wood boxes, moss (for insulation?), various metal strips and angle iron taken from (presumably) old machinery. In other words, they used what ever they could find. When you lack resources, you adapt and make due.

Buildings were heated by wood or perhaps coal, and lit by lantern. No electricity, no connections at all to the outside world, no modern anything and a just a few men vs the wilderness.

Outside some stoves, a couple crude tables and miscellaneous bits and pieces, the buildings are for the most part empty.

Given the how they were constructed and their use of mostly organic material, the structures have not fared well over time. Some have partially collapsed, while others are close to doing the same. Saplings have grown up all around the site and in couple years we doubt there will be much anything left but the trees.

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The piano is not original to the site, but perhaps a strange offering of sorts, from someone. A prank leading to some weird legend? We’ve heard many stories and from a number of folks taking credit for the deed (for one, a photo club), but still no one is quite sure. It’s from maker Morris Piano Company of Ontario and is clearly quite old.

The serial number suggests, based on the limited data we could find, that it dates back to the first decade of the twentieth century. It’s not a fancy piano and appears to be a budget model of the era.

Exposed to the elements as it is, it’s in pretty rough shape. It was likely not much better when placed here and probably destined for the junk pile anyway. It may have arrived a year or two before our first visit to Saint Elias. Oddly, it seems to move around and that’s based on our own experience and on photos shared with us from others showing it.

The Eastern Orthodox Church dates to medieval times, but with roots going back even further. It was established several centuries ago in North America and originally founded by Russian Missionaries in Alaska. Today it encompasses many hundreds to many thousands of Parishes, Missions and Monasteries on this continent. That’s depending on the source and criteria, but something close.

It’s one of the largest religions in the Christian World, although not so much in Canada as a whole. It is, however, rather dominate in this part of Alberta and select areas of Saskatchewan too.

Orthodox clergy wear a distinctive style of dress and the churches themselves are quite unique in appearance. Monasticism, the becoming of a Monk, is common in the Eastern Orthodox Church, but not unique to the religion.

Saint Elias (sometimes Elijah, alternately with Prophet in his title or sometimes with the addition of Glorious) was said to be a performer of miracles, an advocate of the poor and provider of needy with food. Dating back to the ninth century, he’s a significant figure in Orthodoxy and many churches and religious sites carry his name. In iconography Saint Elias is often shown riding a chariot towards heaven.

Our guide this trip was Robert Pohl, a classic film photographer based out of Edmonton. We hang out together a lot, even if our styles differ, and explore. Just for fun. His site (new tab): Robert S Pohl…Photographs, Travels and Stuff.

The community dates to the 1950s and 1960s.

You’ll see we used two terms, Hermitage and Skete, in reference to a Monastery. Both words appear in the research materials used in compiling this article, so we did similar. For all intents and purposes they mean pretty much the same thing. They speak of a Monastic type community whose members lead a simple existence, forgoing material possessions and who practise their religion apart from general society.

The word Hermit, meaning a person who lives in seclusion, typically by choice, comes from Hermitage. Skete is of Greek origins and speaks of essentially the same type of reclusive, religious-oriented order or site.

Know more about the church (new tabs): Eastern Orthodox Church and the Monastery’s namesake Saint Elias (Elijah)

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“Love your photos! I share the love for abandoned and forgotten places and things…thank you!” Alannah Maria.

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Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: March, 2016.
Article references and thanks: Father Power, the Orthodox Church in America website and Rob Pohl.

Nature is taking over…

Where the piano came from is a bit of a mystery.

Interior walls are of plaster over mud and straw.

It’s a remote location in a wooded grove along a lonely backroad.

One photo club claimed they placed the piano here.

Buildings are simple and crude.

The cooking area?

Everything is in varying states of advanced decay.

Note the varied building materials.

A thread spool, bottle cap and nail make a simple door knob.

They survived by farming, but the land here proved unproductive.

Built of logs and branches.

From the Morris Piano Company, circa 1900-1910.

This building is almost gone.

The post Hermitage of Saint Elias first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Their location depended on the local population density and other factors, but as long as there were minimally a few kids in the area, the powers that be would establish a school district there. Often in buildings no larger than a two-car garage, they would usually have an enrolment counted on a hand or two. And maybe a toe.

A single teacher was usually the staff for a one room school and this person lead a lonely, thankless existence. Locations were remote and the pay was dreadful. Research tells a story of teachers overworked and underappreciated. Turnovers were high and a new school year usually meant a new face at the front desk.

Liberty School –historic plaque (left) & class of 1922 on the front step (inset).

Times change and most one room schools are long gone. The rural population is a fraction of what it was and with good roads, unlike the old days, it’s just simpler to bus kids to some central location now. For one reason or another, a few of these old structures have managed to survive into today. Many are in an abandoned state, sadly and this includes the subject in this post.

The school, as district #1940, dates from 1909 and this was about the time the area opened up for general settlement. It shared a name with the local post office (down the road a bit), even retaining it after the former changed to something else a few years later. It joined several other schools established in the area around that same time and some were were built to the same pattern.

The building is 24ft by 40ft (7.3m x 12.2m), so on the larger size when compared to most other one room schools. It’s much taller than typical too. Not all one room schools had a basement, but Liberty did. It may have been simply for storage or living quarters for the teacher. Many times they’d take up residence at a nearby farm, or live in teacherage (small cabin usually) on the property, but an in-school apartment was not unheard of. The history book is quiet on the subject.

The tall steeply pitched roof makes the building seem much larger than its modest footprint would suggest. It was said to cost $2000 to construct.

Coal was used to heat Liberty School and the chute for this is still in place downstairs. Electricity was a later addition and before they relied on natural light (the reason for all those big windows) or oil lamps for illumination. Outdoor biffies were the “facilities” and students could look forward to a cold bum come February.

The structure is on small plot of land surrounded by fields and with a road out front. Off in every directions there is nothing else. This sense of being alone must have been a bit overwhelming in the old days, especially for the teacher. Even today, that’s how it felt. We suspect there used to a swing set or some other play equipment on the grounds and a place for the kids to frolic come recess or lunch.

They taught grades one through eight here originally, although in later years higher grades were added. However, it was rare for students to go the full distance since many had to drop out early to work on the farm. It would not be unusual for kids to travel a fair distance to get to class (ten miles, uphill – both ways – and battling wild beasts the whole time – if we believe the legend). They came on foot or by horseback.

Enrolment at Liberty School seemed to average ten to twelve students most years and that’s based on old class photos we found during research. Many of the kids were often related in some way.

The teacher lists shows the majority were women and this was typical of the era. Most lasted a single season, then moved on. New school year, new teacher! They had to be proficient in all courses needed by all grades and have a patient demeanour.

Expectations from both the parents and province were high. All the teachers got in return was meager pay and perhaps a few fond memories. If that counts for anything and we suspect to some degree it does.

Since any one grade might have only a student or two, learning was very hands on. While the teacher taught one grade, kids in the others did book work.

At times this building functioned as a makeshift church.

Liberty School closed at the end of the 1938-1939 season. Roads in the area had improved enough that a number of rural schools consolidated in a nearby town. Students then travelled by bus.

For a time after the building sat empty, but it’s not exactly clear for how long.

Liberty School found a new use as community hall in the 1950s. For a couple decades, it hosted bingos (and “whists”), dances, get-togethers and weddings. And wedding anniversaries…”At least one 25th wedding anniversary dance was celebrated in the same school that had hosted the original wedding dance.” That is so cool!

Things found inside, an old piano, TV, records player (both from RCA-Victor Canada) and long tables with benches, reflect that later era. During elections the school functioned as a polling station.

By appearances it’s still very much a school inside.

Old papers found scattered on the floor suggests it saw use as a community hall into at least the 1970s. Liberty School appeared in a National Film Board of Canada production “Prairie Women” in the 1980s. We’ll have to look for that one.

A little tidbit from the local history book about a Lion’s Club event held there yearly…

“The Club sponsors a Turkey Shoot at Liberty School every fall around Thanksgiving time, and draw(s) hot-shots for miles around…” -Snake Valley: a history of Lake McGregor and area.

The cupola that once held the bell used to ring in each new school day, is now beside the building in the grass. There’s an historical plaque out front too.

Overall, the structure seems pretty solid and sound. Birds have gotten in and you know what mess they make. The roof looks in fine shape and at some point in recent memory, had new shingles applied.

Talk from a while back suggested there were plans to move Liberty School to the museum in Milo but we’re not sure if that’s still in the cards. Securing funds for historical preservation is a near impossible task here in Canada, and that’s a pity.

So for now the building sits alone on the prairie down some seldom driven road, and visited by few. Stand on the front landing where long ago the class posed for their yearly group photo and imagine yourself there. It’s 1928, it’s a youthful, cocky you, a couple of your siblings, kids from neighbouring farms, one green behind the ears teacher and some guy with a camera to record it all.

The memories: a small school building all by itself on the endless plains that is this part of Alberta, the wind, the blustery winter, the broad sky, community, good times, homework, an “A” on one subject and a “D-” on another, getting the strap for being a mouth piece, cursive writing, book reports, fields of wheat and the overpowering sense of isolation. We can picture it.

The first one room school in Alberta goes back to the 1880s, but most were from the period 1900-1930. This was a time of accelerated settlement in the province. We’ve heard there was anywhere from two to three, to as many as five thousand. We wonder if anyone knows for sure. Most closed by the 1960s but a few, due to special circumstances, held on into the modern era.

Of those left standing, and there’s a number of them, most are in a derelict state. Frugal farmers* often purchased some for use as granaries, or moved them to their property to function as a shed. It’s doubtful many are still used in either capacity.

Meet Phyllis…

There we were photographing Liberty School one day, when a car showed up and out steps two people. Soon a conversation starts. We’re introduced to Phyllis, coming in from her retirement home in High River, and her daughter. It seems Phyllis attended class here, long ago and wanted to stop by to do a little reminiscing. We all like to return to places of our youth.

We chatted more and heard her story. In her late 90s, Phyliss looked nothing of her age and seemed more youthful in mind than those advanced years would suggest. Sharp as a tack, they’d say. Upbeat and personable too.

When asked about the 10 miles to school legend, she pointed to spot off in a field not far in the distance and in a matter of fact way, said that’s where she lived. We were so looking forward to hearing a tale of hyperbole – you know of mountains and blizzards, of lions and crossing three time zones to attend class.

It’s a chance encounter and after a quick photo, she and her daughter are gone.

With a little later research, we found she was the last student alive that attended this school. That’s both something to celebrate and a bit sad knowing it all ends with you. At least that’s how it’d feel for most folks, we’d suspect, but not Phyllis and she sort of shrugged it off when we later chatted. Sort of a whatever moment. She, herself was a teacher for a time.

This late summer day in 2020, we understand, would be the final time Phyllis would visit Liberty School. She passed away a year and a few months later, soon after topping 100.

“Phyllis grew up east of Milo on her parents’ farm, attended the one-room Liberty School, worked for room and board to attend high school in Milo, and then earned a teaching certificate from Normal School in Calgary. When teaching for 2 years at East Majorville School, Phyllis met Jack. Early in their 43 year marriage, they settled to farm at Ensign…Phyllis substitute taught to supplement the farm income and enjoyed community involvement.” – from the obituary for Phyllis Hunter (summarized).

Through these doors…

This post is from two earlier articles published in 2016 and 2021, combined and with updates. The status of Liberty School really hasn’t changed much since, but certainly time is ticking.

*Frugal farmers? Is there any other kind?

Know more (new tab): One Room Schools of Alberta

They’re saying…

“This site has some the highest density of awesome per square inch, that I’ve ever had the good fortune to enjoy. Keep it up!” The Electric Hooligan.

Random awesomeness…
Ogden Hotel Calgary 100+ Years Apart.
Commander Mine 1935-1956.
Medicine Hat Vintage Trailer Rally 2023.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: October 2016 and September 2020.
Location: Vulcan County, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: University of Calgary photo archives, the book Snake Valley – a history of Lake McGregor and area, FindAGrave.com, various records of passing in the Alberta Government archives and Phyllis Hunter (nee Prentice).

The bell cupola was on the ground.

The record player & piano are from the later community hall era.

It was used for get togethers, parties, and bingos.

The last classes were in 1939 but it still looks like a school.

The basement is dark, damp and full of spiders.

From Medalta Pottery Medicine Hat Alberta.

Many windows help light the interior.

So much texture on this old chair.

It’s the little things…

Built as School District #1940.

Nothing but fields in every direction.

Phyllis aged 15 at Liberty school in 1936 (inset) and 84 years later.

The post Liberty School (SD#1940) 1909 to 1939 first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

We’re in the scenic Red Deer River Valley just west of Drumheller and the elevator is easily seen right next to the highway. You can’t miss it. Looming over folks driving by, it’s doubtful many give it much thought, other than seeing it as a passing curiosity. What’s it doing here and what is it for? Now off to the tour the badlands…

We’ve visited the Kirkpatrick grain elevator many times over the last couple decades and it seems little changed in that time. The photos presented below are from 2013 and also 2025, while documenting the Gran Fondo bicycle tour of the valley. You could do 50, 75, 100, or 160km.

The Kirkpatrick grain elevator has been here since 1924. Originally built for the Alberta Pacific Grain Company network, it changed hands a few times (as grain elevators often do) as a result of mergers and acquisitions. It has a capacity of 35k bushels and is pretty typically of the era. Nearly every small town on the prairies had an elevator or elevators just like it, but most are history now.

The Federal Grain Company owned Alberta Pacific starting in the 1940s and folded this firm into the parent company in 1967. The elevator remained a Federal Grain property until the Alberta Wheat Pool purchased their assets in 1972. Federal had elevators in the other prairie provinces too. The Saskatchewan and Manitoba Pools respectively, acquired those ones at the time. All the Pool grain companies are gone now and relegated to the history books.

The Kirkpatrick elevator closed in the early 1980s and was bought by Andrew Farms soon after, who we assume used it for farm grain storage. We’re unsure if that’s still the case.

It was not odd for other firms to build elevators in direct competition with each other at specific grain loading points. Kirkpatrick was a small market, however, so this was the only grain elevator ever built here. At one time the elevator had a annex on its east side and we base this on old undated pictures we sourced showing it. When added or removed is not clear.

An annex is an addition to help increase the capacity of an elevator and they were common. They came in many shapes and forms.

Metal sheathing covers the elevator and some firms did this as a fire mitigation measure. Grain dust can be explosive and once ignited, it’ll likely consumer everything. It was common practice to display the town (or siding’s) name on the side of an elevator.

The rail line here was the CPR’s Langdon Subdivision which ran from its namesake town near Calgary to the Drumheller coal fields. It continued on to East Coulee, where there were further connections east. This section came through in 1921 and Kirkpatrick remained the end of steel for a couple years. Construction eastward did not commence again until 1924 and this pause is a bit of a mystery.

For many decades the railway was a busy place and trains laden with grain or coal from one of the many mines that dotted the valley, passed by. The market for the latter dried up in the 1950s, although a few mines hung on for another decade or two. With the loss of that traffic there was not enough grain moving to warrant continued use of the line. Loading points were few and shipments sporadic.

The railway abandoned this section and pulled it up in the early 1980s. By this point, traffic was a trickle and unable to support continued use.

The tracks paralleled the road here, but little evidence of the roadbed remains. You have to look close. The rails passed by on the far side and a siding off this track served the elevator. Where those bins are is where grain was loaded onto rail cars.

Flat land here is at a premium in places – the Red Deer River on one side and steep slopes on the other – and in some places the highway sits atop the old roadbed. Heading westbound, the old railway line takes a sharp bend soon after Kirkpatrick, and disappears up a side valley.

This elevator is along the same line: Parrish and Heimbecker Sharples Alberta.

Kirkpatrick was never a town in the traditional sense and just a siding, with this grain elevator. There may have been a post office in the area and perhaps a couple nearby houses, and farms of course, but that’s it. Given the valley is not that wide, nor with much agricultural land, most farming took place on the flat prairie above.

We noted a memorial at the base of the elevator on our 2013 visit and we guess this means someone died nearby. An auto accident? There appears to be no record, so at best we can only guess. A hard hat next to the cross suggests the person who perished(?) was in construction or oil work perhaps. What ever the case, it’s sad. The memorial is no longer there.

Know more about the vanished railway line (new tab): Canadian Pacific Railway’s Langdon Subdivision.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie delve into the nooks & crannies of the Canadian Prairies (ed: we visit the mountains too!). They detail interesting histories accompanied with revealing photos. A lot of information and work and the results are fantastic.” Naomi Kikoak.

Random awesomeness…
The Last Grain Elevator in Torrington and SAIT Heritage Hall (Built Early 1920s) and Bridge Hunting: Brilliant BC.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: May 2013, and July 2025.
Location: Kirkpatrick, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: The late Jim Pearson’s Vanishing Sentinels books, Canadian Trackside Guides and miscellaneous Alberta Government records.

2013…

Welcome to the grain elevator in Kirkpatrick Alberta.

A memorial that appeared at the time.

2025…

Used as a backdrop for the Gran Fondo bicycle tour.

Owned by Andrew Farms.

The post Andrew Farms Kirkpatrick Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

There’s not a great deal of information available on the firm (alternately Loaf and Jug, or Loaf & Jug, sometimes followed by “foods” in the title), but by piecing together bits and pieces from various sources, we hope to present a good timeline. It was a long and drawn out search, but we sort of thrive on those.

It’s interesting to note that all the former stores still exist today, in one form or another. Most look much as they did. There were nine in total and we’ve listed them in a numerical order used by the company. Loaf N’ Jug also had a central office and warehouse in an industrial park. Not included is a store that operated briefly near downtown as a test, in 1971, and it was never intended as permanent. The building where it resided is gone.

The firm purpose built all their stores and some were stand-alone, where as others were part of a larger combined retail complex. For a time many also operated at Mister Soft Drink outlets. Mister Soft Drink was a lower cost alternative to the major soda brands and sold their products outside traditional retail channels. This was in competition with PoP Shoppe, which was PoPular at the time.

Later on, at least some of the stores changed associations with the similar Pic-A-Pop brand.

Loaf N’ Jug applied some distinctive design elements on the exterior of their buildings and this helps them stand out. Even if painted different or changed somehow, they’re still recognizable for what they were. If you know where to look.

Some stores were made of smoother blocks, with broad curved elements on the corners and at the entryway. Others used rough-textured channeled blocks, and with squared, almost brutalist-looking elements. Of the two, the curved style was the most common.

One former store is unique, following neither pattern and is rectangular-ish with no real distinctive design features.

Other businesses occupy these locations today (liquor places, health offices, eateries, one is still a convenience store) and a few still retain the unique street-signage layout used by Loaf N’ Jug. The firm used a tall, square post with a disc-shaped top. They spelled out the Loaf N’ Jug name in large sideways lettering, with Foods in a smaller font at the top, and shown horizontally.

A round portion of the sign displayed the company logo, a little girl in a checkered dress, carrying a loaf of bread and jug of milk. The whole thing lit up at night. While some of the sign posts still exist (and are in use by current occupants), not all retain the top, circular part.

The company Alpha Milk (Alpha Dairies) was the force behind the Loaf N’ Jug stores.

The company started our promising but soon lost momentum. Presumably the chain faltered due to competition from more focused and aggressive convenience stores. Mac’s (Canadian) and 7-Eleven (US) were the big players of the era and were ruthless in their expansion. Independent Mom & Pop corner stores should be considered too, and were still pretty common back then.

Today, Mac’s is gone (most are now Circle-Ks), 7-Eleven almost appears to be in death spiral (many inner-city stores are like demilitarized zones) and neighbourhood corner stores are pretty much history.

Even though the firm was around for close to a couple decades and had a number of outlets, it seems few people remember the chain. We’ve brought up the subject with many older Calgarians and the response is usually “what?” Or they may vaguely recall seeing them, but never remember stopping in.

It’s almost like the firm never existed and so they remain some obscure footnote in the city’s history. Maybe you’ve maybe heard of them, in passing, but that’s probably it. That applies to us here too, and they’re recalled, but the memory is foggy and distant.

Now let’s hit the road and find them all…

Store #1, 1428-20th Ave NW (Capitol Hill Neighbourhood). Along with #2 and #3, it was the first of the Loaf N’ Jug Stores. It opened as a stand-alone in 1972 and closed about by 1986. There was a house on the property before. Today, a dental office operates out the building and the old vertical sign remains in place. This building is in the curved style.

Loaf N’ Jug #1.

Store #2, 3701-17th Ave SW (Killarney). It’s not far from BIGDoer World HQ. It opened in 1972 and closed only a few years later (by 1976). There was a house on the property before. This store is part of a larger complex, all built in the same pattern (the curved style) and the L&J operated out of the left-most section. A barber shop and Subway sandwich eatery shares this space now.

Loaf N’ Jug #2, highlighting the curved features.

Store #3, 601-67th Ave SW (Kingsland). This one is sort of hidden away on a sideroad, close to busy Chinook Centre Mall and the major thoroughfares of Macleod and Glenmore Trails. It opened as a stand-alone store in 1972, replacing a house on the property, and closed by 1988. By the numbers it was the longest one to operate and that’s sixteen years if you’re math-challenged. I guess that’s not horrible, but still, you know they wanted more. To be a success for all time, have stores everywhere, make a million bucks and be something.

Today, some health related businesses operate out of the building. They’re still using the old Loaf N’ Jug sign post, and this one features the round-disc top. This former store is in the curved style. An independent grocery store (creatively named “The Store”) operated out of this location for more than a decade after L&J vacated.

Loaf N’ Jug #3, during a downpour.

Store #4, 334-14th St NW (Hillhurst). It first shows up in 1973, as part of a larger complex (all in the curved style) and closed by 1988. The city has some aerial photos and one from late 1972 shows the structure under construction. Roughly concurrent with the opening of this one, a new office and warehouse also opened in the NE to serve the growing chain.

This section of property was once the parking lot for a service station. That building, at an angle to the road, is still there and houses a liquor store today. The Loaf N’ Jug section of the complex was a cafe recently, but they moved and the space is up for lease. The brick base for the Loaf N’ Jug sign remains.

About the time this particular store opened, an entry for a similarly named group of stores called Loaf & Cookie Jar appears in directories. Interesting. We can find no connection to the L&J stores, but there’s no real info out there either. It’s an intriguing rabbit hole we might just have to go down at some point, but not today. The Loaf & Cookie Jar company grew to have four stores and all were gone within a few short years.

Loaf N’ Jug #4.

Store #5, 2402-69th Ave SE (Ogden). Opened late 1973/early 1974, and built in the square style with textured blocks. It was part of a multi-unit retail complex. The Loaf N’ Jug operated out of the left section and closed by 1986-ish. There’s a store here today, Ogden Corner Mart Convenience Store and Vape Shop. Prior to this building, there was an empty lot here before.

This store was a block away from and out of view from busy Odgen Road. It seems to us the firm sort of hid their stores in less visible locations for some reason and did it often. The original square sign post is in place and is in use, but sans the rounded top. This address is also listed as 2388 Crestwood Rd SE today.

Loaf N’ Jug #5.

Store #6, 2601-14th St SW (Bankview). This one first shows up in 1973 and closed by 1988. It’s in the curved style and a liquor store operates out of the building today. This one may have been part of a two-unit complex when built or it may have been a stand-alone store, but larger than the others. It’s not clear. An older retail block stood on this property before.

There’s a Starbucks across the street and it’s home to the infamous 14th Street VW Beetle Monster. It was formerly prominently displayed in front of a nearby, and now gone auto repair shop.

Loaf N’ Jug #6

The Starbucks next door.

Store #7, 108-16th Avenue NE (Tuxedo Park). This one shows up in 1973 and the appearance is unlike any of the others. It’s a fairly non-descript rectangular-ish shaped block and is easily seen from bustling 16th Avenue (part of the Trans-Canada Highway at the time). However, it’s almost invisible from (also busy) Centre Street. It’s sort of secreted away behind other business blocks, and unseen from that angle.

There was another building of almost the same size here before and old directories show before Loaf N’ Jug a physician operated out of it. This store closed after only a couple years and was gone by about 1976.

After Loaf N’ Jug, it was a County Style Donuts for a time and in outward appearances retains some of the architectural features of that business. Country Style was a chain in competition with Tim Hortons, but it never thrived as well out this way. They had a few outlets in Calgary for most of their run out here, but briefly expanded to more. This location lasted into the 1990s, but in Calgary some others held on a bit longer. They’re mostly in Ontario now.

Today the building is home to an Asian Eatery called Tea Funny.

Loaf N’ Jug #7.

Store #8, 3235 17th Ave SE (Southview, near Forest Lawn). This one appears in late 1973/early 1974 and is part of a very large L-shaped complex. It’s in the square style with the textured/channeled exterior and the entire complex displays this treatment. There was a motel and trailer park on this land before.

This one closed as a Loaf N’ Jug about 1980 and is now a Chicken-on-the-Way. This fast food joint goes back to the beginning of time (or something close) and has a couple outlets, but purists claim their flagship location on 14th St NW (near Loaf N’ Jug #4) is the best. Eat too much of it and you’ll die an early death. Heart problems you know, but it’ll be a happy ending. I think the stores have defibrillators and a helicopter pad for STARS on the roof.

Chicken-on-the-Way is a Calgary institution, even if the L&J store chain that this building was once part of, never quite obtained that status. The old sign post is still in place and in use, including the round top. Their company colours are yellow (we approve) but some segments are sun-faded white.

Loaf N’ Jug #8.

Store #9, 3106 4th St NW (Mount Pleasant). This one dates to about 1974, in the curved style, and is part of a multi-unit complex. This was the last Loaf N’ Jug built and it closed by 1986. Prior to this building, it appears there was a garage or service station on the lot.

Today, the building is home to a liquor store. This the second L&J repurposed this way and you’d think by this account we’re all boozers in this city.

Loaf N’ Jug #9.

It’s interesting that some L&J Stores quickly closed, and that the rest struggled on for a time and then in one fell swoop, completely vanished. By overall appearances, it looks like the chain never really did a consistently booming business and almost seemed to fly under the radar. In a horse race, they were an also-ran. It’s hard field to break into at the best of times and that they came and went so quickly, proves this unequivocally.

Loaf N’ Jug Stores were franchises and the owners or the company, with perhaps both contributing, must have dropped a good bit of money on those new buildings.

That they only built their stores in older or more established neighbourhoods is curious. We’re not sure if this had any bearing on the long term viability of the business, but it could be a factor. Meanwhile Mac’s and 7-Elevens were popping up in the burbs with regularity. Since Calgary was going through a boom when the Loaf N’ Jug chain was first established, maybe they missed the boat with these new neighbourhoods.

Even so, their was a particular enthusiasm early on and this in reflected in newspaper advertorials of the time. From a piece in the Calgary Herald, dated the 19th of October 1973…

“A new Loaf N’ Jug store will be officially opened in Calgary. It will be the eighth store in the network for this city. The new store will be located at 3235 17th Ave SW (sic – they actually mean SE, the Chicken-on-the-Way place).”

A typical store appears in an artist’s rendering attached to that piece and if we were to guess based on visual elements within that image, they used the 17th Ave SW location for inspiration. The artwork shows a multi-unit complex using a side street entry, with the store on the left side, and only #2 had these features. The rounded elements are not so obvious, but the general layout matches up well.

“Convenience for everyone at the new Loaf N’ Jug Stores in Calgary!” The piece goes on to lists the store operating at the time (only #9 had yet to come) and their managers (and manageresses). The caption further reads “Get to know you friendly Loaf N’ Jug owner…they’re interested in making your shopping easier for you.”

Moreover, it mentions all stores operated from 8am to 12pm, seven days a week. The article also touts the ample parking. “Convenience – fresh merchandise – quality guaranteed – shop in a clean, bright atmosphere. The whole family will find shopping at Loaf N’ Jug convenient stores (sic – convenience?) a pleasant experience…owned and operated by Albertans.”

Below is more from this piece and it shows the company had plans for growth, but in the end, they only opened one more franchise…

“Loaf N’ Jug Stores offer Calgary business men the unusual opportunity to operate an independent business and still share in the growth of the ever growing convenience store industry. The stores are completely owned and operated by Albertans (ed: they stress this a lot). Officials of Loaf N’ Jug Stores in Calgary predict convenience store business will also become big in Canada the next few years.”

They were speaking of US growth and while their prediction for here was spot on, L&J would ultimately loose out.

More…

“Part of the reason convenience stores are becoming so popular is that they employ unique patterns of operation to serve the public.” The piece talks about ease of shopping, the cleanliness of the stores, and the unique and open design of their interiors. “These independent business men share in the profits or suffer any losses in each store’s operation, depending on the success of their own individual (ed: that’s oddly said).”

While Loaf N’ Jug is gone and barely remembered, it’s an interesting slice of obscure Calgary history. That all their buildings remain is something pretty remarkable and they help preserve the legacy of this ultimately unsuccessful business. Even if most folks looking at or working in the buildings don’t know it. The company didn’t last long and didn’t make much of a mark, but if you know where to look (and now you do), it lives on in these places.

There’s a regional chain of Loaf N’ Jug stores in the US, but we don’t think there’s any connection, even if we take into account some interesting coincidences. They were founded about the same time as the Calgary chain and use exactly the same spelling. So Loaf N’ Jug, and not with an & or and.

Many sources were used to make this piece and old phone books in particular were a real boon. We love browsing old directories and the like, but we’re weird that way, so it wasn’t hard work.

It’s our hope that you enjoyed this little Calgary flashback and be happy knowing we’re always out there looking for other lesser-known, mostly forgotten or underappreciated subjects to cover. Thank you for stopping by and for all your support over the last dozen or so years.

The city was a much different place back when these stores were founded (new tab): Calgary Alberta in the 1970s.

They’re saying…

“Relevant, authentic, real!” Dennis Paschke (straight and to the point).

Random awesomeness…
Along the Kootenay Central w’ Greg McDonnell.
Radio Shack Westbrook Mall (Calgary).
Calgary Transit Elbow Drive 40 Years Apart.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: Various 2025.
Location: Calgary, Alberta (all quadrants).
Article references and thanks: University of Calgary Archives, City of Calgary, Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society and Calgary Herald Newspaper Archives.

A closer look at the round part of the sign.

An artist’s rendering from an ad & we think they used #2 for inspiration.

The post Loaf N’ Jug Stores Calgary first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Come, see how to work the land and then move here. Know what it takes to be a successful homesteader and we’ll show you how to do it. Right here and right now! There’s help get you started, my friends and a new life calls.

Prospective farmers were shown where to acquire a property and of course similar buildings, what crops to grow, what equipment to purchase, what techniques to use and so on. There’s an emphasis on how to do it efficiently and for maximum profit. It was simple and almost turnkey. Plop down some buildings on the land you just bought, apply what you’ve learned here and you’re in business.

Before we proceed further, a little note and it won’t take long. This is an old post from close to a decade ago and it’s been brought back for your enjoyment, with a little reworking or the copy, but the original photos. Now you know and it’s on with the show…

Welcome to the CPR Demonstration Farm – visited with permission.

The CPR had a vested interest in the demonstration farm and the success of this endeavour. They’d profit on the sale of these kit farms and then again, many-fold, on the resultant business brought to the railway by folks moving to the area. They’d ship inbound materials needed by all those new settlers and outbound agricultural products they would produce.

Then there’s the transporting of other people in and out, all the stuff needed for new towns that would spring up, and any industries established. Most everything moved by railway and it was win-win for the CPR.

This demonstration farm was one of many set up across the prairies by the railway and in the early part of the twentieth century. This one’s from 1912 and each, it appears, was unique in form. They were built in areas just opened up for general settlement and often concurrent with the coming of a new railway line.

These would used for a number of years, or even decades. When the population potential of the area was reached, or their usefulness fully exploited, they’d be disposed of piecemeal or sold off in some way. Over time the buildings connected to these places have mostly disappeared, but not here though. At one time there were thirteen – six in Alberta, three in Manitoba and four in Saskatchewan.

This example is located just outside the community of Vulcan Alberta and it’s believed the only one left that’s intact and complete where built. That it differs little from day one makes this site special and historically significant. Absolutely, we’re looking at something rare. All these buildings are on private property, so please respect that, but you can still easily view them from a nearby road.

It’s not entirely clear how long the Canadian Pacific Railway operated the farm. Some records suggest up until the late 1910s and others well into the late 1920s. What we found seems rather contradictory, but this is not an odd situation when compiling history. Sometimes it’s all over the map and confusing.

This farm, incidentally, was actually planned for another town and a place called Keoma Alberta. That town’s a bit northeast of Calgary and for reasons unknown, they later changed it to Vulcan (SE of Calgary).

We do know a bit about the farm’s first manager and this person lasted from opening until about 1915, but there’s nothing of those that followed. After disposal or sale by the CPR, whatever the year, the farm clearly remained occupied at least into the 1960s. Perhaps a wee bit later too, but into the 1970s the house stood empty. The barn and outbuildings seem to have seen use, in some capacity, for a time after.

There’s some gaps here as you can see and it’s a frustrating aspect of writing pieces like this. It’s compounded when done on a shoestring budget and with minimal resources. We hate to admit that we begrudging accept that some questions may lack answers for as time (or forever) and leave it at that.

The house and barn, and perhaps the other outbuildings, were made to standardized plans offered by the railway. These were off-the-shelf kits for easy assembly on one’s own property or sometimes they came pre-built and bundled with a parcel of land.

Several different models, sizes and layouts of houses and barns were offered, depending on the needs and budget.

The house is fairly simple four square design, with two stories but few ornate elements. Even though plain and utilitarian, it’s charming in its own way. There’s room inside for a good sized family and back then having many kids was the norm. It looks like a coal stove originally provided heat and post World War Two the then owners brought electricity to the property.

Other than one piece of furniture, odd bits of junk and bird poop underfoot, the house is empty. Peeling layers of paint and wallpaper in places exposes a plethora of colours from earlier times. A peek into the the basement showed much mud down there and we didn’t venture inside. It didn’t look like there was much to see anyway.

Plumbing? Well, the biffy’s outside. Picture having to do one’s business some cold January morning and shudder at the thought.

The barn is unremarkable, but functional. Ones like it lacking the traditional gambrel type barn roof, never seem as iconic as though with. The wind driven water pump looks complete and the wheel still spins up on the breeze.

There’s odd bits of machinery scattered about the property and shrubs of red elderberry seem to thrive on the property. Two of Vulcan’s concrete grain terminals are a backdrop to this shoot and mark the Canadian Pacific Kansas City’s (as they are called today) railway line.

While boarded up, birds and the elements have gotten inside and made a mess of the house. It looks and feels structurally sound, however. The barn still seems somewhat solid and true, but less so than the dwelling. Two additional outbuildings, possibly added post CPR ownership, are not doing as well. They’ll fall down one day and probably sooner than the rest.

In more recent times, a group has explored the possibility of taking over stewardship of the demonstration farm and have it officially recognized as an historic resource. There appears to no movement on this since we posted this piece almost ten years ago. It has an important connection to the province’s rural roots and its settlement history.

One can’t help wonder how many people came to the Vulcan area and went on to be farmers because of this place? It surely had an impact on the region’s success and that’s pretty interesting. In spite of a lengthy and exhaustive search, we’ve found no photos of the farm in its heyday. It’s a prairie farm archetype and surely someone must have taken a few shots of it at some point.

An outbuilding in the softening light of evening.

If and when the demonstration farm is acquired by whomever, they’ll have their work cut out for them. The roof needs attention for one and there’s a million other things too. Bird poop, rotten timbers, and other issues will need addressing. Still, it appears it’s not beyond saving and likely with a bit of elbow grease could return to its former glory. This piece dates to 2016, but we pass by often and from a distance the house and barn look about the same today. One shed seems to be collapsing though.

They’ll need money and lots of it. As someone working to help save old buildings, we’ve seen firsthand and it’s not cheap to do. Given what it all represents, it mostly definitely deserves to be saved and we doubt anyone would argue that.

Know more about these in general (new tab): Canadian Pacific Railway Demonstration Farms.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie have a unique way of documenting the places they visit, not copying the style or technique of others, but making it their own.” Alex Craig, Filmmaker.

Random awesomeness…
Baby Boom in Didsbury Alberta and Bella the Boler Goes Home (Cheers!) and The Lonely Laing House (1910s).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date: August, 2016.
Location: Vulcan, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Bev, Todd, Book – Wheat Country, a History of Vulcan and District, Vulcan County Heritage Survey, Vulcan Advocate and miscellaneous Canadian Pacific Railway records.
The CPR Demonstration Farm is private property and BIGDoer.com visited with permission.

A peek inside.

There’s odd bits of machinery scattered about.

The barn.

A place to do your business, day or night and in all weather.

The interior is mostly empty.

Two grain terminals form a backdrop.

The house is a simple four-square design.

It still spins on the breeze and the last shot of the night.

Red Elderberry grows all over the yard.

Looking out from the barn.

The basement was partly mud filled.

Remnants of paint.

It’s a prairie farm archetype.

It’s little changed since built in the early 1910s.

The post CPR Demonstration Farm Vulcan Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

This building has stood abandoned for greater than forty years and while rough-looking and weather worn, it has a certain majesty. It’s one of the more photogenic elevators we’ve explored and we’ve known a few.

Come along and see it from a decade ago and from a more recent visit. We’ve heard reports of its impending demise and that by later this year, it’ll be gone. Just in case, we thought we should stop in again…perhaps for one last time.

Sharples dates to around 1921-1922 and came to be with the coming of the railway. There was never that much here, however, and no town to speak of. Maybe a couple dwellings, perhaps a post office (suggested) and not one, but two grain elevators. No metropolis and just a siding on the railway. Outside of the elevator, there’s are a few dilapidated sheds and a house foundation left today. And maybe ghosts.

The road in to Sharples is gravel and always has been. Of all the dots descriptive of a town’s population on maps, it afforded only the smallest one. A little period. On the Canadian Pacific Railway branch through the area, it was a flag stop, meaning there was no depot and any trains offering passenger accommodations would only stop if requested. Otherwise they’d pass right on by.

One dwelling in Sharples remained lived in into the 1980s or thereabouts and there’s still remains of it opposite the elevator.

The track was the CPR’s Langdon Alberta to East Coulee line, built mainly to tap the coal reserves in the Red Deer River valley to the east. It was the company’s Langdon Subdivision and grain moved on the line as well. When coal markets finally dried up in the late 1970s (in steep decline since the 1950s) the eastern section through Sharples closed down soon afterwards. The western half, from Langdon to Carbon, held on until the mid-1990s.

Remnants of the former railway remain and are marked by obvious cuts and fills. At one creek crossing near the elevator, the concrete piers and abutments of a bridge remain as a reminders of what was.

The Sharples elevator dates to 1923 and was built for the firm Parish and Heimbecker. The company goes back to around 1909 and remains in business to this day with a modest network of rural grain terminals. The old “P&H” shield logo is still up there on the side of the building for all to see.

The elevator has a capacity of 28k or 30k bushels (depending on the source) and that’s a pretty typical size for the era. In the 1940s they added two annexes to help increase capacity and this more than doubled the storage capacity. One remains. They removed the other at some point, but at a date unknown. There’s bits of the concrete foundation to mark the location and a high above, the loading pipe that once fed it hangs there in mid-air.

The elevator closed in the 1980s (reports differ, most say 1982, but 1984 also makes mention) and this is sort of concurrent with the closing of the railway line in 1982-ish. Not torn down as one would expect, it’s suggested a local farmer put it to use storing grain for a time. Frugal farmers sometimes repurposed old grain elevators this way.

However, it’s been abandoned for many, many years now. Our first run it with it was in the mid-1990s and it was in that state then.

The structure looks rough and tattered, mostly due to the metal cladding peeling off (a fire deterrent) but structurally it’s probably still pretty solid. That’s thanks the usual laid-flat 2×6″ wood framing used and heavy concrete or stone foundation, which together makes theses buildings something close to indestructible. The elevator when viewed from certain angles appears to have a bit of a lean, however.

This elevator is one of the about a hundred and fifty original style wood grain elevators left in the province. In times past, there was over seventeen hundred and most towns on the Alberta prairies with rail service (a lot) had one or more of these structures.

The Sharples elevator is pretty much as built, but has received some modifications over time. They replaced the original gas-engine power plant with an electric motor in the 1950s and at some point enlarged the driveway for bigger trucks coming into use. The former office, a separate building starting to fall down now, remains in place and is empty.

The elevator is historically recognized, but that doesn’t carry much weight. The government sponsored department that oversees these things has some powers, but can’t stop a building owner from allowing it to deteriorate. Or even prevent them from removing it.

If you visit Sharples please be respectful of its historic significance and be mindful of dangers.

Earlier this year, we heard talk that that building was due to demolished by the trail society that owns the old railbed. Presumably, they’re hoping to develop the former railway into a recreational path at some point (it’s a scenic valley, so it makes sense) and as a safety hazard, they don’t need the liability. One wrong step inside and you’ll find yourself hurt (and we stress caution if you visit).

There’s been much talk on social media, but the source of this story remains unclear. The Alberta Trailnet Society, who owns the elevator, seems silent on the matter. They didn’t respond to any of our inquiries, but I’m sure they’re busy and understaffed. Time will tell.

There’s a barn on the property and it too is starting to collapse. An old article from the Trailnet folks mentions its use in the early days as a place for resting horses used in pulling grain wagons into the elevator. The use of horses was common in rural areas, even into the 1940s and 1950s. The local history book makes no mention of the subject, but perhaps that’s just an oversight.

There was a second elevator in Sharples once, built in 1927 for the firm Alberta Pacific Grain. This company had a fair number of grain elevators across the province. Almost immediately, and for reasons not explained, the structure came under control of the Alberta Wheat Pool, a farmer owned co-op and for much of its existence the largest grain handling network in the province.

The Pool kept it open at least until around the time the railway closed and tore it down soon after. There’s nothing really to indicate it was ever here, but we did notice some half-buried timbers close to where it was. A retaining wall? That’s to the left of, or east of, the P&H elevator and photo evidence in the local history book confirms that was the location of it.

Over the years, we’ve visited the grain elevator in Sharples countless times. As far back as when I (Chris) used to drive oil-field truck in the 1990s and made regular visits to the gas plant just up the road (no camera then). Passed the elevator all the time. One can’t help wonder if this most recent visit will turn out to be our last. Surely, its days are numbered, no matter what happens.

The photos presented below are from a recent visit and from another ten years ago. There’s even a shot captured on film and we do that from time to time. We’ve photographed the Sharples elevator on other occasions, but the images from these two visit are our favourites. A decade has passed and it still looks the same, but for how much longer?

Know more (new tab): Sharples Alberta Grain Elevator.

They’re saying…

“Wonderful articles on small forgotten towns. Several that I knew very well. Thanks for doing this.” Jan Tooth.

Random awesomeness…
Nier Alberta’s Psychedelic Grain Elevator.
Highway History (BC): the Garbage Gobbler.
Jessie’s – Royal Cafe – Golden Crown.
Greyhound Has Left The Building.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: May 2015 and June 2025.
Location: Sharples, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Canadian Trackside Guides, Alberta Trailnet, the book – Carbon Our History, Our Heritage (Carbon is the next town west), Alberta Register of Historic Places (Hermis) and the Canadian Grain Commission.

2015…

The former P&H grain elevator in Sharples Alberta.

The biffies fell or were knocked over.

The view to the barn, from the elevator office.

It belong to the firm Parrish and Heimbecker.

2015 Film…

From our old Minolta X700 35mm.

2025…

It’s not changed much in ten years.

The barn on the property.

Dating to the 1920s and abandoned for over 40 years.

Looking down the long abandoned railway line.

The location of the second elevator in Sharples – a retaining wall?

Looking into the inner-workings.

A maze of chutes.

The truck unloading area (driveway).

Note bridge remains from the railway in the foreground.

The post Parrish & Heimbecker Sharples Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Let’s create a project, walk around the core and document the findings. A theme project we like! When this was first conceived a decade ago, there were ten houses in the core, but that number has dwindled to four. Of those still standing, one is lived in, one is empty and for the two remaining, jewellery firms occupy each. We’ll show you these and chat about what we know, and show you the other six lost since we started.

These are not the only dwellings in downtown Calgary. A good number people call the core home, more than ever in fact, but almost everybody lives in high density condo towers or apartment buildings. In years past, good-sized sections of what is downtown today were comprised of single family dwellings, especially on the east and west sides.

Most of the houses seen here are rather simple and if not for this unique setting, they would have flown under the radar. This reminds us that these neighbourhoods were once very blue collar and most rich folks lived further afield.

Calgary’s downtown core borders on the CPKC tracks to the south, the Bow River to the north, 14th Street to the west and the Elbow River to the east. That’s all we touched upon. The city, Google and map makers, all agree on that as a definition. It works for us. There are still many fine old homes in neighbourhoods that border downtown, just not many inside.

Before we look at the buildings, let’s clarify how a house qualifies for inclusion here. We’ve kept it simple – a house is a dwelling, used as a residence or formerly a residence, that stills looks the part. We’re not counting houses so heavily modified that they no longer are easily identifiable as such. There are some like this in downtown, but that’s another story.

This is the fifth or sixth installment of this series since 2014 (all offline) and we’ll include images of houses not longer standing from those earlier visits.

Come join us on a little walkabout and see what we can find…

1) This former house on the 800 block of 6th Ave SW belongs to Brinkhaus Jewellers and they’re a high end purveyor of sparkly things to the wealthy. You need an Amex Black to get in. Or a letter of reference from Buffet or Musk vouching for you and proof that at minimum you own a high end German sedan. Then there’s a secret handshake. The building dates from 1910 or 1912 (depending on the source) and is a stately structure.

With all the surrounding towers, one would be hard pressed to believe that the general area here was nearly all residential well into the 1950s. It looks lost in the clutter.

2) This home on 200 block of 8th St SW is connected to historic Holy Trinity Lutheran Church and was once the residence (parsonage) for the pastor, but today they rent it out. The church sits just to its right. Built in 1912 (according to the city), or 1914 (the church) it seems well kept up and of all the places explored today, this one we suspect is the least threatened. As long as the church is there it may survive.

This home is smack dab in the middle of condo central – look left, look right, look up and take in that scene of endless towers, but it hearkens back to a time when the west end was mostly low density residential. We remember the area as kids in the ’70s and recall it as rather run down back then.

3) Next up is a brick house not far away (on the 500 block of 10th St SW) and dates from 1911. All boarded up and surround by construction fencing, our fading memories tell us someone lived in it until early 2000s. Its fate is unknown although given it’s pleasant design and solid construction perhaps someone will save it. Brick adds an air of sophistication and importance.

Next door there’s a former house that by appearances may have been almost identical. There’s a restaurant here and the building is so modified that it doesn’t meet the requirements for inclusion. It no longer LOOKS like a house from the street, even though it was one. Okay…we’ll give it honourable mention.

4) This former dwelling on 1100 block of 6th Ave SW is the location of Designs by Manuel, a jewellery company and condos have surrounded it completely. Condos, condos everywhere. We’ve seen the work of this craftsman and it’s amazing stuff. This building dates to 1913 and looks well cared for.

These four houses are close to each other and in the west fringes of downtown. Traditionally this area had the most single family dwellings in the core.

Now let’s see what we lost since this project started.

5) This was the oldest of the bunch and was the very last home in the East Side of downtown (East Village – 500 block of 8th Ave SE). It dates to 1904 and at some point covered in that delightful broken glass stucco from the mid-century period. It also had a partial false front. Looking down its length, it had sags and leans, and we’re doubtful there was a square corner in the entire building.

At the time (2018) senior’s towers and a good number of parking lots surrounded it. This will all change as new trendy condos spring up in this formerly depressed neighbourhood. It was as a rooming house for years, or flop house according to a passer-by who lived in the neighbourhood. Lots of trouble they said. Demolished a few years back, the property is now an empty lot. It was too old, beat up looking, and with claimed undesirable occupants, so it had no place in this gentrifying neighbourhood.

When built Calgary as a city was less than a decade old and had a population around ten thousand. Let that sink in! Compare that to one point six million-ish today and you’re looking at a 15900% increase according to our scientific calculator. In 120 years time.

6) Kitty-corner to the brick house (#3) was another former dwelling converted to business use. The last occupant was a jewellery firm (I see a pattern here), Jewels by Design. The structure dates to 1910 and appeared in good shape when we saw it in 2018, but they demolished it a couple years ago. Last time we drove by, the lot was still empty. This was the last occupied lot on the west end of this block, and in the coming years expect residential towers to occupy the combined group.

7) This house (600 block of 4th Ave SW) was at the time the closest such dwelling to the centre of downtown. It was well hidden by the buildings that surround and tower over it. They swallowed it up and we doubt the thousands of drivers that pass by it every day ever noticed it.

This one is perhaps the smallest, and certainly most kitschy in design (and with that popular broken glass stucco from long ago), and dare we say it’s a cutie. It looks all the more tiny and humble given how it is (or rather was) jammed in there up against some neighbouring buildings and with those tall office towers looming over it in back.

The city said it’s from 1950, but another source suggests much earlier, 1910-ish. City records are not infallible and we suspect their date represents some major work done to the building at the time. But we say so cautiously. It’s seen in 2016 and was gone a few years later.

It’s amazing to think that the area surrounding was at one time residential and now look at it. Someone lived in the house until the mid-2010s at least. We checked just before it fell and this house plus the land (or rather exclusively the land, the house being worthless in this sort of environment) is/was worth a tidy two point six million. Cha-ching!

8) This small bungalow in the 900 block of 5th Ave SW was all boarded up when we crossed paths in 2014 and demolished only weeks later. Now there’s a big tower here. The house was constructed in 1941 and like some others we’ve spoke of in this post, is covered in broken glass stucco (aka crushed bottle stucco, broken bottle stucco or beer bottle stucco). This stuff was quite popular at one time and you can still see it on many old houses these days.

You got to wonder how many of the old man’s empties made it into that stucco mix? He liked his beer.

Best we can tell, this house remained occupied until shortly before it came down. They hung on until the bitter end. Compare it in size to modern McMansions and that will blow your mind.

9) This building on the 400 block of 6th St SW and is around the corner from #7. If you look to the left in the picture, you can see the “back yard” of that other house. It dates to 1911 and last used as office space for a lawyer. After being vacant for a time, it was demolished a few years back.

10) This house on the 1100 block of 8th Ave SW is the newest one here and dates from 1946. This here one is/was (we’re stuck in tense hell) the newest confirmed of all the houses seen.

It’s rather plain and easily missed or ignored if not for its location here in the core. Occupied until 2014, these folks kept it in good shape to the end. The land it sits on is very valuable and given there are few spaces left in downtown, this would make the property quite desirable. True enough and a week or so later after our 2015 visit it was gone.

This property, along with neighbouring lots on this block, are all empty. Last time we checked, a couple months ago, it looks like construction on a tower (no!) could start soon. The city has this on file for the property: “Commercial / Multi Family Project (BP2024-12962) is Hold – Pending Plans Review. Permit created on 2024-06-27. Project scope was New 42 Storey Residential Building (Group C).” Does that mean stalled? Somehow and some way they’ll make it happen. Prime lots like this don’t stay vacant forever and there’s much $$$ at stake.

And there you have it and it’s another one in can. As long as there’s these homes we hope to do these articles like this from time to time. Fully expect in subsequent years the titles will become numerically smaller and smaller till maybe becoming “One House Downtown Calgary”. Or maybe “No Houses Downtown Calgary”. Then we can move on to other inner-city neighbourhoods and start the series anew.

Given the demand for downtown space, someone’s going to show up with a dump truck full of money to the properties left, buy them and do some redevelopment. You know it’ll happen. You have to agree, the clock is ticking for those still left.

Thanks for joining us on this tour and drop by this site often for lots of new and original content posted regularly. Most all have historical slants of course.

Know more about this area of downtown (new tab): Downtown Calgary West End History.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie have a unique way of documenting the places they visit, not copying the style or technique of others, but making it their own.” Alex Craig, Filmmaker.

Calgary history…
Stampede Speedway Calgary (1982-1987).
Highland Golf Course – Fore No More.
Ogden Block – Hong Lee Laundry Calgary.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: Numerous times from March 2014, to present day.
Location: Downtown Calgary, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: City of Calgary land and building records, Heritage Calgary, plus countless Henderson Directories (various years).

Still standing…

1) Brinkhaus Jewellers now operates out of this one.

2) Once the pastor’s house for the church next door, but now rented out.

3) This home has been empty for over a decade.

A jeweller also operates out of this former house.

Lost since 2014…

5) Seen in 2018 and gone a couple years later.

6) Seen in 2018 and demolished soon after.

7) Seen in 2016 and torn down a few years ago.

8) Seen in 2014 and gone only weeks after this photo.

9) Seen in 2014 and gone for a couple years now.

10) Seen in March 2015 and leveled one week later.

The post Four Houses Downtown Calgary first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Coleville is a community in the west-central part of the province. It was founded in 1913, when a railway came through, and close to three hundred people call it home today. Agriculture is big – of course, this is where the grain grows – and there’s oil underground. If you work in the area, it’s probably in one of these two industries.

Our subject is a fairly late example of a traditional wood-cribbed grain elevator and it’s a design dating back to the early 1900s. Built as late as the 1980s, they were all similar in appearance and construction. That’s no matter their age, their size, or the company that owned it.

Not until late 1980s and early 1990s period did the industry change. Now it’s a whole different world and the grain elevators of old made way for giant grain terminals. They’re of concrete, steel or some combination and not of wood.

Five grain elevators have stood in Coleville, but not all at the same time. This one was the last and the largest (by many fold). It operated as the Saskatchewan Wheat Pool’s “A” facility and replaced an earlier, much smaller structure. That one dated from the mid-1920s and closed in the mid-1970s.

The exact build date for this elevator did not turn up in any documents we searched. Visually, it’s similar to others of the late 1970s period and beyond. That seems to fit. It doesn’t make mention in the town’s 1982 published history book, however it does in a 1983-1984 crop year report put out by the Canadian government. So 1983ish is most likely. Former Pool records are oddly silent on the subject, but they could be missing.

A local farmer purchased the elevator after it closed in 1998 and that’s concurrent with the railway line shutting down. They use it for grain storage. The Saskatchewan Wheat Pool sign is still intact and usually the firm painted them over when sold.

This is a single composite style grain elevator with an integral annex addition on one side and a separate detached annex on the other. This one looks older and was likely salvaged off an elevator in this town or another nearby. Annexes were a simple and budget minded way to increase the capacity of a grain elevator. It seems no two were alike.

The first grain elevators in Coleville date back to the 1914-1917 period. One was an Alberta Pacific Grain Company facility and closed early on, in the 1920s. Another, originally Scottish Cooperative, became the Saskatchewan Wheat Pool’s “B” facility in the 1940s and closed in the 1980s. It was not odd for a grain firm to have more than one elevator in any one town and these often came about due to mergers or acquisitions.

Stewart Grain built the third elevator. In the 1930s Federal Grain owned it, but in the early 1970s is became Saskatchewan Pool “C” (via their purchase of Federal Grain’s Saskatchewan holdings). While it closed in the early 1980s, it remained in place into 1998. The fourth Coleville elevator was the Pool “A”, which as you may recall the current structure replaced.

All of these were located on the same siding and in close proximity to present day Pool A.

There were thousands of grain elevators in Saskatchewan once, but now the total is in the hundreds. Many, like this one in Coleville, find use as storage buildings. Some still function as commercial grain handling facilities, but not many. Many were demolished and some were simply abandoned when no longer needed, like one we found in nearby Whitepool back a decade ago. It’s gone now.

The Saskatchewan Wheat Pool dates to the mid-1920s and ceased to be in 2007, when it amalgamated with a rival. It was a farmer owned cooperative and at its peak was the largest grain handling firm, not just in the province, but all of Canada. They had quite a network of rural grain elevators and had operations in nearly every town in the province with rail service.

There were other networks of grain elevators across the prairies but none rivaled the Sask Pool.

The former railway through Coleville has a rather interesting history. Built by the Grand Trunk Pacific, it became a Canadian National Railways property in the early 1920s. The Grand Trunk went bankrupt (as did some rivals) and the feds picked up the pieces and amalgamated them all, lest their failure ruin the entire economy.

This stretch traveled west from Biggar Saskatchewan, through Coleville and into Alberta. Known as the Dodsland Subdivision, it was a typical sleepy prairie branch line and the main commodities hauled were grain. Some petroleum products too.

In the early 1980s the railway cut back it to a point just west of Coleville at a town called Smiley. In 1987 some parts of the line including the section through Coleville, were transferred to the Canadian Pacific Railway. They operated it for the next decade or so before abandoning the line and lifting the rails. Sections of the old roadbed remain visible in many places.

The railway line ran between the elevator and Coleville’s municipal water tower. The elevator siding was to the left of the through track and in the 2025 photo we’re standing on the former roadbed.

This branch was one of countless examples lost in the 1990s and it’s a time when the railways were retrenching at an incredible rate.

On our 2015 visit the rain forced a hand. We could wait it out (but were short on time), risk getting the camera wet or just do something silly. You know what we picked.

The Beer Parlour Project spoken of earlier is a cooperative effort between analogue photographer Rob Pohl and Team BIGDoer. It’s a celebration of old, small town hotel watering holes and you can see more here (new tab): Beer Parlour Project. On our most recent visit to Coleville we dropped by the Coleville Hotel to document the goings-on and it was amazing!

Know more about the town (new tab): Coleville Saskatchewan and the legendary firm that owned the elevator (also new tab): Saskatchewan Wheat Pool.

They’re saying…

“Fantastic detail and in depth coverage of history…great work…much appreciated by those who follow.” Rob Graz.

Random awesomeness…
Berte George’s William’s Grocery Lethbridge.
Highway History (BC): the Garbage Gobbler.
Calgary Transit #1046 Fantrip.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: June 2015 and May 2025.
Location: Coleville, Saskatchewan.
Article references and thanks: The government publications Grain elevators in Canada Crop (various years), Vanishing Sentinels by the late Jim Pearson, Oxen to Oil – Diamond Memories: The History of the Rural Municipality of Oakdale (Saskatchewan) and the Village of Coleville and Canadian Trackside Guides.

The last grain elevator in Coleville SK & the town’s water tower.

From 2015…

Getting silly during a rain storm.

Grain elevators are closer than they appear…

A wipe between shots – it’s a relatively modern wood elevator.

The post Coleville Saskatchewan Wheat Pool “A” first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Let’s jump back to the railway landscape of that era. Just look at any old map and see for yourself how many lines once existed. It was a spaghetti-bowl of track, running this way and that with reckless abandon, to nearly every town or village. They did it with what appears to be little forethought in respects to the long term viability of the whole scheme. Notwithstanding, they built at an insane pace and did so for decades.

Most of the aforementioned lines are gone and relegated to history now. Ditto for the those stillborn, that is partly built never finished. A few like this one only existed on paper and were never meant to be. They had plans, but soon had second thoughts. It’s a rare case of a railway siding with caution during a frenzied period of building.

The Canadian Pacific Railway built a line through Empress Alberta in the 1910s. It connected with the firm’s mainline at Bassano Alberta, paralleled it a bit to the north for some three hundred and fifty clicks, before the two met up again a bit west of Swift Current Saskatchewan. While planned as a major secondary, in the end and mostly so, it was just another sleepy “grain branch”.

Even so, a good amount of coal traffic polished the rails as well, in the late-1920s to the 1950s period. It came from mines out in the Drumheller area to the west, via a connecting line, and continued east through Empress into Saskatchewan.

Around the time the coal started moving, the CPR investigated the possibility of markets to the north. Many folks in the old days used coal for home heating and the demand on the cold, cold prairies, was steady. That was not just in rural places, but also in the big cities. As a commodity to be hauled by rail, coal paid better than grain and any chance to exploit an opportunity was given at least some consideration. A second line north off the Empress line entered the discussion.

They explored the possibility of a direct route to the major centres of Edmonton to the north or Saskatoon to the northeast, or maybe even a line to each. Reports, variously, make mention of these possibilities and many others, but the two cities seemed to be top contenders. There’s were many untapped markets up in those directions, so the railway took notice.

The lines looked feasible. Just run new steel off the tail end the Empress wye (a Y-shaped arrangement of tracks where locomotives turned around) and away you go. Easy as pie here on the flat prairies and hardly any work at all. But there was one problem, one major problem, one costly problem and it was standing in the way. This was the Red Deer River and it’s right here at the very end of the wye, so at the very start of the planned extension.

The Red Deer was wide and a bridge would have cost a fortune.

After sizing up the situation, the railway quickly deemed it not worth the effort and and with that they shelved any plans. Then they and everyone else forgot of it all.

Did the railway seriously consider the idea or was it water cooler talk? Considering what we found during research, they at best “toyed” with the notion, but never gave it serious consideration. Sill, they did some very basic preliminary work, so office planning and reports, but nothing really out in the field.

It would appear everyone involved knew from the the start that the crossing was a deal breaker and there was no dancing around it. Today, few people know of these plans, even long time residents of Empress and railway enthusiasts.

The Canadian Pacific abandoned and pulled up their line into Empress in the 1990s. The line east had been truncated some decades before and Empress was then at the end of track on a stub-ended branch. The old roadbed is mostly intact including the old wye tracks and we found lots of “clinker” scattered all over the place at this spot. That remains of burned coal from locomotive boilers and it was often used for ballast or fill.

The tail track extends right down to the Red Deer River on a high embankment, but it’s now cut in two by a farmer field access road.

From here, one can clearly see just how challenging the crossing would be. There’s a channel, a broad island and then the main part of the river (the view of it is blocked in our photo by that island). Then there’s a wide expanse of valley and a climb up. The whole thing, bridges and fill approaches would have easily been a kilometre or two in length. It’s plain to see why they balked and moved on.

Interestingly, the turning wye in Empress is mostly in Saskatchewan, save for the very end of the tail track, which bends back into Alberta. The provincial border, the 4th Meridian, runs just east of the town site. A sign by the old railbed marks the line.

This was not the first proposal of this kind and railway/land promotors championed Empress (“The Town of Opportunities”) some time before. They envisioned it as the centre-point of many lines back around the time the railway first arrived. It was already going to be a divisional point (centre of local operations), and this made it a natural choice as a junction for additional lines.

This: “The Railway Company advertised the location as a place of some importance to be; a supply centre for a wide district; a divisional point on the line; perhaps a centre for two railway systems. It’s where railways branch and rivers meet.” – Golden Jubilee Empress 1914-1964.

The following route were in consideration at the time:

1) Lethbridge to Empress to Saskatoon Saskatchewan and on to Hudson Bay in Manitoba. 2) Edmonton to Empress to St Paul in the US and on to Chicago. 3) Alberta Central Railroad (no mention where it’d go). 4) Calgary to Bassano to Empress and on to Swift Current Saskatchewan (stated as the CPR’s main line, cutting 56 miles off the present western route). 5) Moose Jaw Saskatchewan to Empress and on to Calgary. 6) Empress to Kerrobert Saskatchewan Branch.

A few things. That’s some ambitious plans, especially those down to the US or way up north to Hudson Bay. Most were not a direct product of the Canadian Pacific Railway and instead came from the minds of promoters. It’s likely the CPR did little to downplay them, if they were even aware. It’s suggested that some of these lines would come from rival railway Grand Trunk Pacific and this was virgin territory for the firm.

Number 4 ended up being true and the Bassano-Empress-Swift Current line was completed, but it always remained a secondary route in nature.

Empress is home to nicely restored train station and it can be see off in the distance in one photo. This building has appeared in a few BIGDoer.com reports over the years. We saw it not long after the last train visited, and before locals fixed it up and several times since. We did some comparison shots in and around this point in the past as well. The station can be seen here: Empress Alberta at the 4th Meridian.

This article dates back to 2016 and has been reposted for your pleasure with updates, but the original photos. Enjoy!

Know more about the town: (new tab): Empress Alberta History.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie have a unique way of documenting the places they visit, not copying the style or technique of others, but making it their own.” Alex Craig, Filmmaker.

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Slocan British Columbia 81 Years Apart.
Craigellachie Kid.

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Date of adventure: July, 2016.
Location: Empress, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Book – Golden Jubilee Empress 1914-1964, select snippets of the Empress Express Newspaper (1920s-1930s mostly), the UofC for so much, railway historian Larry Buchan, Charles Bohi and Leslie Kozma.

Tail end of the “wye” – plans where to extend the line north of here – note the cut.

A few old ties remain.

The Red Deer River, a big obstacle – most is out of sight behind that island.

At the end of the roadbed, looking back – lots of fill here.

Looking north where the legs of the wye meet – tail track embankment in back.,

Looking west – main track left – wye right.

Looking east – main track straight – wye left.

Steam locomotive clinker found in the ballast.

The Alberta/Saskatchewan border (4th Meridian) – restored Empress Station in back.

A general layout of the area.

The post Planned Railway: Empress Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

The artist laid out these remains in an exacting, circular fashion and each airframe aligns with a point of the compass. There’s twelve airplanes in total and native grasses form the outline of any missing pieces. To really appreciate this, you should see it from the air, but in a stroke of irony, we’ll have a ground view. It’s a different take, but still mighty impressive from our lowly angle.

You the viewer are free to interpret the meaning of Gravitas, so make of it what you will. Good art challenges conventions and makes you think as an individual.

Gravitas, made of World War Two era airplanes – the Rockies in back.

They’re war planes but is it about war? They’re old and falling apart, so is the theme decay or even death? Or are we reading too much into it? Why the precise layout? Is it something spiritual…something akin to a Native Medicine Wheel? The answer, we’ll leave up to you.

Ourselves: it’s the Knights of the Round Table and they’re a circle of equals in conference. They’re soldiers awaiting a call to duty and then it’s on to glory.

Gravitas dates to 2009 and is the brainchild of Keith Harder, our host and guide this day. He’s a painter, illustrator, digital imaging creator and sculptor. Produced in cooperation with the Bomber Command Museum of Nanton, the Ansons came from their collection and being surplus to their needs, they were donated to the project.

Picked clean of any needed parts, they helped in the restoration of another Anson, so in that sense they were perfect for this display. Either use them here or let them languish away in the museum’s storage lot, unseen and unneeded. This piece gave them purpose. None are anywhere close to complete airframes, but they’re still recognizable for what they are.

To construct the display, they laid out a large round gravel bed and marked the location of every plane. They craned each aircraft into place and set them down accordingly. It sounds simple, but the artist demanded a great degree of precision and to do it right this last step ate up much time. Keith made sure each aircraft aligned to within a hair’s width of specifications.

The exacting silhouette of complete planes – recall none are anywhere close to that state – were planted with tall grasses and these have grown into the remains. The centre of the circle and a band on the outside edge are also grass, but other areas are bare gravel.

Since the display is close to the road a fair number of people passing by see it (but, reminder it’s on private property). Most, we bet, scratch their heads wondering what it is. Only to view from above is to know it. People in planes can see it and drones can see it. Towering basketball players with stepladders might try, but it’s won’t work. An uber-tall selfie stick is not nearly enough. You need some serious height to take in all that it is.

Most air traffic here is small planes coming and going from a number of rural airports nearby. Traffic to and from Calgary might be too high at this point to really notice the display – is it even on the normal routes? That it’s actually seen by a limited number of eyes makes it no less important. No way and it’s all the more special as a result. An artist like Keith Harder doesn’t do it to put in front of the most eyes possible, but instead eyes that can appreciate it.

From the ground we were able to appreciate the all the components and parts that make it up. Once we got a lay of the land and wandered about, we could image it in its entirety.

The Anson design dates back to the mid-1930s and the aircraft served many roles. It functioned as a light bomber, transport and patrol aircraft, but seemed best suited as an air trainer. Produced by the firm Avro in the UK, demand during World War Two was such Canadian production was established. Many firms were involved, marking parts or complete aircraft, but De Haviland is perhaps the most well known name. Some of the Ansons here have markings from this firm.

In total over eleven thousand Ansons were built across several variants and close to three thousand came from Canada. Production spanned the 1930s-1950s in the UK and 1941 to 1945 in this country. Ones made here are mostly Series (Mark) II and V.

The Mark II Anson has a steel skeleton making up the the body and tail. Some sections were clad in metal and others fabric. Wings were fabric covered wood and a large plywood spar anchors them to the fuselage. A pair of radial engines (from the firm Jacobs on most Canadian Mark II models) provided power to wood propellers (on Canadian models).

The length of the craft is some thirteen metres, the wingspan seventeen metres and they had an operating weight of some thirty four hundred kilos. Cruising speed was two hundred and fifty kilometres per hour.

Mark V aircraft made use of more more wood and that’s due to metal shortages during the war. The planes at Gravitas appears to be made up of the Mark II variety, however.

The Anson carried a three or four person crew. Controls were primitive and people comforts unheard of – just look at that seat! Cargo space was minimal. Some Ansons not used as trainers might have a basic armament or were outfitted as a light bomber. They were also used for navigational instruction and other miscellaneous duties, but as trainers they excelled.

The aircraft takes it name from British Admiral George Anson from the 18th century and given success of the design, no doubt he’d be proud.

Most Anson trained pilots went on to fly bombers. Ansons were easy to fly, forgiving, simple to maintain, reliable (hence the Faithful Annie nickname) and this made them a good learning tool. In many ways however, even early into the war, it was an outdated design. Still, it worked well in spite of this and well regarded as a result.

In its own special way it helped the allies win the conflict, even if most of its contribution was behind the scenes in nature. No little boy ever dreamed of being an Anson pilot. Begrudging respect, minimal recognition, but a job well done.

The Anson was the backbone of the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan and pilots destined for the European Theatre were hands-on educated on these planes at any number of airbases scattered all over Southern Alberta. Some of these old airports remain. Over twenty thousand aircrew, from all over the Commonwealth, received their training on Ansons.

The Gravitas planes still display splotches of British Commonwealth Air Training Plan yellow on many exposed surfaces.

Wandering about the remains, one can’t help think of those brave souls who then went on to fly in the war and didn’t make it back. Or let’s think of those who came back broken or damaged in some way. It’s a sombre connection, but sometimes this life requires a sacrifice.

After the conflict, most Ansons were sold as scrap and many were snapped by farmers who salvaged parts of them for other uses. Ahhh, reinforcing that frugal farmer stereotype. Often any leftovers were then dumped in the back forty, along with old trucks, retired tractors and other metal bits. Junk rarely left the farm. Many old airframes, even if now in parts, survived fairly intact thanks to all this.

Later museums and collectors would acquire many Ansons.

The Bomber Command Museum of Canada in Nanton (somewhat south of Gravitas) dates back to the 1980s and is home to several vintage war planes including an Anson currently undergoing restoration. They have a fair stockpile of parts and parts aircraft in their inventory which to pull from. Some bits may have come from the very planes placed here by Keith Harder, and that’s something cool.

Gravitas: (Oxford Dictionary – Noun) Dignity, seriousness, or solemnity of manner.

Native grasses grow as the outline of missing parts.

The crazy dome home is on the same property and we got to visit it once some years back. It’s wild. The piece is not online anymore but maybe one day we’ll repost it.

This article is one of those that went corrupt due to that database crash (we talk of it a lot lately) and we reposted it here with a rewrite, but using original photos. The site lost many posts in that fateful event and any worth salvaging (not all are) will get a similar treatment before they’re made public again. They older stuff needed work anyway, and this gave us an excuse to fix them up.

Know more (new tabs): Gravitas by Keith Harder and Avro Anson.

They’re saying…

“Can we all take a moment to appreciate how great this website is?” Monica and Leslie (thanks, we’re blushing).

Random awesomeness…
Ogden Road Calgary 1950 & 2016.
Commander Mine 1935-1956.
Historic Hotels Cranbrook BC.

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Date of adventure: August 2016.
Location: south of Calgary (please view from the road).
Article references and thanks: Artist Keith Harder, Bomber Command Museum of Canada, Nanton Alberta and the Book Canadian Warplanes by Harold A. Skaarup.

Artist Keith Harder, our guide and host.

How many pilots learned their craft in this very cockpit?

It looks random, but there’s order when seen from above.

Airframes are aligned to points of the compass.

Each is an Avro Anson, some more complete than others.

A seat for the crew and it doesn’t look all that comfy.

The location is a farmer’s field south of Calgary (not publicly accessible).

Aircraft came surplus from the Bomber Command Museum in Nanton Alberta.

The crazy Dome Home on the property.

To really appreciate the piece it has to be seen from the air.

Ansons were made of metal, wood and fabric.

A wing spar is seen here.

An electrical panel.

Still painted in Commonwealth Training Plan yellow.

A Jacobs Radial Engine, one of two per plane.

About a quarter of the over 11000 Ansons made were produced in Canada.

These Ansons were used as trainers during World War 2.

Old war birds and nature coexist.

The most complete of the airframes.

Gravitas was completed in 2009.

Ansons were made by many firms in Canada, including De Havilland Aircraft.

The dome home on the way out.

Gravitas in all its glory, from the air – photo Alex Robinson.

The post Gravitas by Keith Harder first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

The structure is well over a century old and once carried the railway over the South Saskatchewan River. Today only the piers remain and there’s lots, plus the old roadbed leading to it at each end. Our viewpoint didn’t allow it to be seen in its entirety, but it’s still incredible.

This line ran from its namesake town of Empress just across the line in Alberta, and on to a point near Swift Current Saskatchewan. It then joined up with the Canadian Pacific’s mainline there. From Empress west, another subdivision continued on to Bassano Alberta and a western connection with the mainline.

That it joined the main at both ends meant it could function as a by-pass route in times of congestion or due to operational difficulties. We’re not sure if it ever happened, however, but we’ve heard it suggested many times.

Built in the 1910s, the Empress Subdivision was a conduit for grain, and later coal moving out of the Red Deer River Valley near Drumheller. Coal was of the domestic variety and with this line, they could exploit markets in Southern Saskatchewan. Domestic coal is used for heating homes and its use was quite common out in rural parts back in the day.

In the 1930s to 1950s period in particular, huge amounts moved out along the line.

The bridge was a huge undertaking and held up completion of the Empress Subdivision for many, many months. It’s the greatest engineering challenge along the line. Research suggest the railway built inwards from both ends to expedite its completion.

A borrow pit is obvious along the line to the west (thank you Google Earth) and presumably it provided gravel for the project.

Some thirty five concrete piers supported the bridge, equidistant from each other, and with abutments at each end. Spans were identical in length and this made assembly of the pre-fabricated sections easy. Drop them in and go. We’re not sure if the bridge had an official name, so we choose something simple and descriptive here.

The Empress Subdivision Bridge was a pricey endeavour and one of the longer bridges on the entire CPR system. The firm that built the steelwork is unknown but Dominion Bridge, the biggest player in the industry, seems a likely candidate.

Spans were a deck plate style, so open topped and with steel-work underneath.

The structure was straight for most of its length, but with a gentle curve on on the east end (the side we visited). There’s an obvious cant (super-elevation) at this point and this suggests they expected track speeds to be fairly brisk. They embedded old rails and metal channels into the leading edge of some piers as a reinforcement against ice flows.

An island blocks most of the structure from view and from this position one can see perhaps a quarter of its length. That’s a side channel of the river down there and the main one is on the island’s far side. The South Saskatchewan is big river here, but not terribly deep. The Red Deer River joins it just downstream of the Empress Subdivision Bridge and adds to the flow.

The section of Empress Subdivision from Empress Alberta to Leader Saskatchewan closed by 1990, but the east end still sees trains. After the coal traffic dried up in the 1960s, traffic along here was a mere trickle. The railway removed the spans at some point post closing but saved some for replacement use elsewhere. Into the late 1990s, a number languished away in the old Empress rail yards.

Estuary Saskatchewan is the nearest community to the Empress Subdivision Bridge, but it’s a ghost town now.

The last passenger trains to cross over the bridge were in the early 1960s, but by that point few people rode the rails.

Team BIGDoer has visited the site twice, in 2016 and 2024. The second was to shoot a Then and Now showing the bridge under construction, but as it turns out we were on the wrong side. Of course and if you see our brains out wandering aimlessly somewhere, send them home.

On the first visit we attempted an approach from the west side, with the land owner’s permission, but turned back several kilometres away due to a slump in the road. Actually the old railway bed is the road. Hiking in would have been an option any other day, but not this one. We did not know of them Then photo back then, and only approached from that end because it seemed like a good way in.

There is very little civilization within sight of the bridge and at best limited access via very rough roads, or on the west side, no roads at all (recall, it’s private land there anyway). One could of course canoe or kayak in. The river is big, but come mid-summer it’s a placid and easy-going waterway.

Given the scarcity of photos found, online or elsewhere and from any date, it’s clear the structure was/is rarely visited. It’s impressive and what a thrill it would have been to cross it by train.

We joined with good friends Jason and Rebecca Sailer of Lethbridge on the first visit. We’ve dreamt of visiting the Empress Subdivision Bridge for decades and ever since it appeared in a Greg McDonnell book (can’t recall which). The image in mind shows one of the last freights to cross the structure.

If you’d like to host or join up with BIGDoer.com on some trip like this, drop us a line. We love to collaborate.

The Empress Subdivision Bridge was big, it’s in lonely and remote location, and is spectacular in every way. It’s not just in a gorgeous setting, but one needs to marvel at the work that went into it. The photos presented here don’t do it justice. Now to arrange to pay it a revisit from the west and maybe find someone with a drone too. Pardon us for dreaming out loud…

Postscript: On the drive back from the bridge (2024 visit) we hit something sharp and shredded a tire. In the literal middle of nowhere too and this forced us to limp back to our small town motel on the doughnut spare (120km away). It was a long weekend but the the local repair shop opened for us (bless the kind folks out SK way). This is truck country and they only had a single tire in our small size. It’s a well-worn winter tire of questionable reliability, or nothing.

We’ll take it. The tire howled like a banshee on the highway, and in the 30c weather, it visibly wore from the time we left Saskatchewan till when we got home to Calgary. Some 400-ish km distance. It worked though, and we’re so thankful for the kindness shown us. God, we love it out that way.

Know more about the river (new tab): South Saskatchewan River.

They’re saying…

“Love history…you bring to life that which has been forgotten…always interesting.” Richard O’Connor.

Random awesomeness…
Trinity Lutheran Calgary ~100 Years Apart.
Alexandra Bridge Fraser Canyon BC (We told you so!)
A Few Minutes in Willingdon Alberta.

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Date of adventure: July 2016 and August 2024.
Article references and thanks: CPR Archives @Exporail, Canadian Pacific Historical Association, Geoffrey Lester Author and Cartographer, Book – Golden jubilee Empress, 1914-1964, the UofC Photo Archives and our dear friends the Sailers.

2016…

Remains of the CPR’s Empress Subdivision Bridge in SK.

Embedded rails and metal channels helped reinforce the piers.

It’s a big one, but only some is seen from this position.

2024…

It crosses a side channel (front), then an island, then the main channel (not visible).

Cinders from steam locomotives make up some of the ballast.

Driving the old railway line – a shredded tire would soon follow.

Postscript…

The only replacement available – a winter tire – it howled the whole way home.

The post Empress Subdivision Bridge (Abandoned) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

It’s the early 1980s and the whole industry was watching.

Ultimately, however, and for a number of reasons, the Buffalo 2000 failed to deliver. The design was replete with problems and only three, of the many proposed, were ever built. This example, one of two left, is still in use and found in Lyalta Alberta just outside Calgary. It can’t be all bad if it’s still around, but that only a handful were made is telling.

This article is from 2016 and lost to a database crash from a few months back. After a bit of reworking and tweaking we’ve reposted it here for your enjoyment. We lost a lot of posts in the 2012 to 2016 range (hundreds), but they were old and due for review anyway. Rather than restore from backups, we’re inventorying the lot and picking out select ones for a do-over (some with new pics, some with originals). Watch for them in the coming months.

At the Buffalo 2000 Grain Elevator in Lyalta Alberta.

From the early 1900s to the 1980s, the wood grain elevator ruled in Alberta and in fact all over the Canadian Prairies. They were everywhere and some are still in use today. The traditional design had proven itself and worked well enough for decades, but by the 1970s was becoming obsolete. Still, they built new ones as late as 1988. The industry had a rather guarded approach at the time and innovated slowly.

They agreed they needed something new. Something more efficient, up to date, of greater capacity and safer. Wood and grain could be a disastrous mix should they catch fire, so that aspect was of great importance. But quicker and more efficient handling proved a major consideration as well.

Enter the Buffalo series – there were two and we’ll chat about the other soon enough. They seemingly addressed all the problems and on paper looked good. The Pool planned to use them for new construction and to replace older elevators near the end of their service lives (a lot). The first incarnation, the Buffalo Slope/1000 was tried (three built early 1980s) but had limitations, so they soon adopted a second design, the Buffalo 2000.

They built the first in 1982 (Lyalta Alberta, recall) and it’s the very one seen in this report. Not long after and even before the testing phase had yet to be completed, they built another in Foremost (1983). A third in Boyle (1986) followed.

Early on problems appeared. A complex arrangement of internal pockets made them expensive to build and the cost ended up being far more than planned. Unexpected issues occurred with grain flow and clogged bins were common. After the first three, no others followed. The problems were inherent with the designs and with no easy workaround, development stopped. It began with much fanfare, but ended quietly.

Even so, a similar design to the Buffalo 2000 was developed in Brazil (thanks Steve Boyko) but we’re not sure how successful they were. Interestingly the Pool built a few wood elevators afterwards. In the end, the B2K was a failed experiment. Still, any built remained in use and that’s in spite of any functional problems.

By the 1990s, high throughput grain terminals came on the scene and are the current norm. Massive steel, concrete or some combination of the two, they are able to load a whole train’s worth of grain cars in one pass. Compare that to the traditional elevator, or even the Buffalo design, which at best could load a handful at one time. There’s a high throughput elevator just down the tracks from Lyalta, by the way.

The Alberta Wheat Pool commissioned the Buffalos, but if they proved a success no doubt other grain companies would adopt the designs. The earlier Buffalo design, known as the Buffalo Slope (sometimes Buffalo 1000 or simply Buffalo, an odd trapezoidal structure) tested some ideas and the 2000 built upon it.

Both are of concrete, but each is distinct in appearance. It would appear they had similar development timelines and by having a back-up design at the ready was a wise move, even if it too didn’t work out. These futuristic designs garnered a lot of press and were celebrated by the industry, but neither left a lasting mark. The Edmonton firm of Buffalo Engineering was the force behind the project and they closed down soon after they completed the last Buffalo 2000.

In many ways they were transitional designs and had familiar operational elements, but lots of new features too.

The Pool had three Buffalo Slopes/1000s made and two still exist. Like the 2000s, they were a dead end design, but still functioned good enough to use. You can see one here: Grain Elevators of Magrath.

The Alberta Wheat Pool dates to 1920s and functioned as a farmer owned cooperative. For much of its history it held title as the largest grain handler in the province and nearly every loading point in Alberta (a lot) had a “Pool” elevator.

The company merged with a rival (in 1998, becoming Agricore) and then merged again (becoming Agricore United) and again (becoming Viterra) and since then…we’ve lost track. They dumped the collective mindset somewhere along the way.

The Pool’s successor Agricore, sold the Lyalta Buffalo 2000 elevator to Canada Malting just after 2000. This new owner is specialized player who still uses the facility and who graciously allowed us access. Outside a few modifications here and there, nothing major really, the machinery inside is pretty much as built.

The elevator retains its Pool colours and with the the old Agricore sign blanked out. You can see the town’s name on the structure and this was a tradition since the early days.

The routing control panel is interesting and in comparison to its contemporaries of the era, a futuristic feature. The old style man-lift would not be out of place in a 1920s era wood grain elevator.

Canada Malting malts grains – who would have guessed? Read on…

“Malt is a cereal grain – most often barley, wheat, rye or oats – that’s grown under controlled conditions and then dried. You’ll find malt’s distinctive flavour in beer, distilled spirits, vinegar, cereal, baked goods, and many other delicious things. Malting is a process and art that we’ve been perfecting for more than 100 years.” – Canada Malting.

Canada Malting buys and stores malt barley in the Buffalo 2000 at Lyalta and processing is done at other elsewhere.

In the past there were two other grain elevators in Lyalta and both were traditional wood-crib style from the 1920s. These also belonged to the Alberta Wheat Pool (with differing lineages) and together had around half the capacity of the 2000. It was not odd for a grain firm, through acquisitions, to have more than one elevator at a grain shipping point.

A couple years after the completion of the Buffalo 2000, the firm demolished the pair. Perhaps they held them in reserve while testing the new design. One of the earlier facilities included a house for the operator in back. It’s long gone but the layout of the trees, some fence bits, and other details mark the location. That area is full of retired machinery and bits, including a 1930s Marshall Road Roller.

The railway line out front dates from the 1910s. Built by the Canadian Northern Railway, under the Alberta Midland Charter along here, it ran from a point near Edmonton and on to Calgary. Another line continued on to Saskatoon. The CNoR went bankrupt and subsequently became part of Canadian National Railways, along with some rivals, in the early 1920s.

Much of the former Alberta Midland is history and now the Lyalta elevator is at the very end of the line on the Calgary end. Other parts are in service but a lot of the lines spoken of are gone.

Canada Malting can still receive railcars for loading, although it’s been a while since that happened. Instead, they send the grain out by truck. Sometimes the railway stores surplus or temporarily out-of-work railcars on the main track out front.

The town of Lyalta is not far east of sprawling Calgary and at night you can see the glow of the city from here. Founded in the 1910s, with the coming go the railway, the oldest section is home to a couple dozen people at most. However, a large housing development (with a golf course) is just north and has been has been encroaching on the original community for some time. It almost swallows it up in the process.

A 1930s Marshall Road Roller on the property.

There’s a couple old-ish buildings on Main Street (the only street) but not much else.

Footnote: the owners of the Boyle Buffalo 2000 demolished it a few years back and it was not an easy nor cheap undertaking. All that concrete and steel resisted to the end. Could it be this which kept the others from a similar fate? Might as well use them since the work and cost to tear them down is prohibitive? One Buffalo 1000 was demolished as well and we suspect it was similarly quite the task.

Know more (new tabs): Buffalo 2000 Grain Elevators, Lyalta Alberta and Canada Malting Company.

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“Love the articles and blog posts. Very informative and interesting. Chris and Connie do a great job of researching and writing. The photos are amazing! Love it all.” Lila Cugini.

More like this…
The Last Grain Elevator in Torrington.
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Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: January 2016 and January 2013.
Location: Lyalta, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Canada Malting, Ryan Dodd, Alberta Wheat Pool archives, book – Along the Fireguard Trail: A History of Lyalta-Ardenode-Dalroy Districts, Canadian Trackside Guides and the late Jim Pearson.

Built in 1982, it was to be the future of the Alberta Wheat Pool.

Concrete construction was a new direction, but in the end only 3 were made.

In downtown Lyalta and a UK built Ford Zephyr Mk II (1956-1962).

Into the driveway with the yellow-jacket guy.

Legs 1 and 2.

Deep inside now – spouts connect the various bins.

Levers help route the grain.

The main control panel.

The elevator track had not been used for some time.

The elevator now belongs to Canada Malting.

The town’s name is traditionally displayed on the side of grain elevators.

Old machinery out back…

From 2013 – stored railcars occupy the main track.

The post Buffalo 2000 Lyalta Alberta first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

It’s big body of water and the tug kept busy ferrying barge load after barge load between Kootenay Landing and Proctor. There’s some rough country between those two points and it would take a while for the railway to close the gap.

Post retirement, they CPR sold the tug and it languished not far from Nelson for some time. It later burned to the waterline, sank in the shallows and for the last eighty some years has been rotting away near shore. All that remains today is the rusty boiler partly above water, and some of the hull below, occasionally exposed when lake levels ebb. The prop, removed decades ago, was put on display in town.

The craft sits in the shallows of a small cove and between two points of land. Surrounded by houses and cabins, there’s limited foot access and to walk in requires permission. Private beaches and all. That’s how we did it, but the owners we spoke with mentioned it’s not their regular practice to allow. It must have been our gleaming smiles and infectious personalities…yeah, that’s it.

If you come by water, and that lake is great for boating, access is pretty easy. Bring your snorkel and we understand it’s pretty interesting under the surface. Sections of wood superstructure below water and usually hidden from view.

The Nelson Shipyards constructed the SS Hosmer (Steam Ship) in 1909. This facility built many vessels in the CPR’s Kootenay Lake fleet and was responsible for their maintenance. The hull and superstructure were of heavy wood beams and planking. The steam engine, boiler and drive cylinders, came by way of a firm in Ontario and were brought in by rail. It was the largest and last of the big steam tugs built for use on Kootenay Lake.

The CPR had many ships on the body of water, including sternwheelers, barges and tugs like the SS Hosmer. Each had a purpose and they all kept busy. They ferried rail-barges to various disconnected lines and rail-equipped loading docks on shore of Kootenay Lake. The largest of them, sternwheelers, also provided passenger and freight service to towns and settlements on the lake.

Kootenay Lake is a big one – more in a moment.

The SS Hosmer shuttled trains between two sections of CPR’s southern mainline that had yet to be linked. It would take decades to close. The tug worked hard from day one and as a result needed a rebuilt in the late 1910s. Later, in the mid-1920s, it suffered a fire and this required extensive repairs too.

With completion of that rail gap spoken of earlier (early 1930s – through extremely precipitous territory, so it took time) the SS Hosmer was out of work. They say it was worn out too. Old records mention the tug handled multiples of two to three barges at at time, with up to fifteen railcars each, several times per day, each way, six or seven days a week.

After languishing in the CPR shipyards for a few years, the railway sold to a local fellow with intentions to turn it into a house boat of sorts. The shipyard salvaged the drive machinery (but not the boiler), so what this person planned to do in that regard seems a mystery. How far along the project proceeded overall is unknown.

The SS Hosmer remained anchored in this little cove for years and not far from where it is today. In the early 1940s vandals burned it to the waterline and it sank in the process. It’s shallow here so it didn’t have far down to go. Abandoned at this point, it’s only a couple clicks away from the former shipyard (now gone) that built it.

What remained of the hull eventually collapsed under the weight of the boiler. Today, the latter is the only part visible most of the time and on our visit it almost looked like it was floating not far from shore. If water levels are low some wood bits are visible and other times the boiler is more submerged. Photos found from a few decades ago show the SS Hosmer looking much as it does today.

It’s said old rails are scattered about the wreck and presumably they’re ship’s ballast. The submerged rudder, now separated from the hull, is not far away, along with other odd bits of metal and wood. In the 1980s, the Nelson Museum removed the prop and brought it to town. We looked on streetview and it’s not in the location we photographed it at any more.

Charles Hosmer, a CPR official of the era, lent his name to the tug. He did the same for Hosmer British Columbia, a town out in southeastern quadrant of the province and not far from Fernie.

The railway had many tugs on Kootenay Lake, not just the SS Hosmer. These other craft dated from the 1890s to 1950s, with all but the most recent built at the firm’s Nelson shipyards. The last of these operated up until the 1970s, serving those disconnected lines touched on earlier (those still in use at this time).

The SS Hosmer was largest tug on Kootenay Lake (33m in length, 6m wide and 100-ish gross tonnes). The CPR also operated larger passenger ships and the last of these, the storied Moyie, is now on display in Kaslo north of Nelson.

The SS Hosmer is not the only ship wreck on the lake and there’s others, mostly connected to the CPR’s former operations. Some of remains are close to shore like this one, while others are in deep water.

Kootenay Lake, end to end, is over a hundred kilometres long and the west arm extends out for a few dozen more. In most places it a couple or few kilometres wide. The surface area is some four hundred square kilometres and we told you it was huge! It’s one of the biggest in the province and is very popular with recreational users.

This is yet another post lost to the great system crash of a couple months ago, but brought back. Rather than restore from backups verbatim, we’ve matured as writers (still a long way to go, however) and gave it make over instead. Original images were used, but all else is mostly new. We lost many articles to that little…ahem…”event” and any still worth something, will get reposted with a similar treatment. The rest will be stricken from the record and forgotten.

Know more (new tabs): Tug SS Hosmer Nelson BC and Shipwrecks of Kootenay Lake BC.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie have a unique way of documenting the places they visit, not copying the style or technique of others, but making it their own.” Alex Craig, Filmmaker.

Hand picked for you…
Main Street Beiseker Alberta 110 Years Apart.
Highway History (BC): the Garbage Gobbler.
When Coal was King (Mine Substation).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: July, 2016.
Location: The west arm of Kootenay Lake, BC.
Article references and thanks: Royal BC Museum Victoria, Touchstones Nelson: Museum of Art and History, and Nelson Kootenay Lake Tourism.
Access by land is limited (private property all around), but by water presents no problem.

Remains of the tug SS Hosmer on Kootenay Lake.

Only the boiler is visible, unless the lake is low – it looks like its floating.

It’s since moved from this spot in Nelson.

The post The Tug SS Hosmer (1909) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

The location is an “Off the Beaten Path” backroad on the vast plains a little south and east of Calgary. It’s a peaceful, albeit lonely spot to spend all eternity.

Doukhobors are a Christian group with Russian origins. They came from what is today parts of Georgia, Azerbaijan and Ukraine. Fleeing persecution in their homeland, large groups settled in Western Canada. They first came to Saskatchewan and a bit later to South-Central British Columbia. They also founded a couple small settlements in Southwest Alberta.

Doukhobors lived communal lifestyles, at least in the beginning, but later abandoned the practice.

Leading the British Columbia group was the charismatic and often times controversial Peter “Lordly” Verigin. He arrived in Canada in late 1902 and was assassinated in 1924. Those responsible blew up the railway coach he was riding in near Farron BC, killing both him and other folks on the train. It’s an unsolved crime to this day and the subject of much speculation.

Anastasia (born 1885) was Verigin’s long time partner and accompanied him to Canada. After his untimely passing, many believed her a natural successor, but it was not to be. Instead, one of Peter’s sons, brought over from Russia came to take the position.

Unhappy with that direction, Anastasia and a breakaway group of followers soon left the region. They settled in an out of way corner of Alberta, near the present day community of Arrowwood. A new town was established in 1926 and named Anastasia Village, in honour of their new leader. The group took the name “Lordly Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood”.

The town of Anastasia and its people, some one hundred and sixty souls total, thrived for a time. They built homes, a school too, and a communal farm. The future held promise but within a few short years, it began to unravel. Poor crops, the effects of the great depression, and perhaps some mismanagement on Anastasia Lords’ part, all took their toll. In the article “Pacifism and Anastasia’s Doukhobor Village” @ Dukhobor.org, her skills in that regard appear in question.

An exodus began, slowly at first but with more families leaving with each passing year.

By the dawn of World War Two the colony was a shadow of it former self and a few years later Anastasia Village ceased to be altogether. Still, Anastasia Lords retained her leadership of who ever was left in the area and held the position until her death. She continued to live at the former Anastasia Village and kept company with a long time companion, her cousin Fedosia (a Verigin).

We found nothing to indicate if Anastasia ever took another male partner, and there’s no mention of children in any records.

Later the pair lived at the former village seasonally and spent winters in Calgary. Anastasia died in 1965 and the cousin that stood by her side for so long, passed away in 1981. They are buried side by side and within sight of where they both lived for so long. Together in life and together in death.

The Anastasia Village Cemetery is north of the former village colony and not far from the old railway line. The first burial dates to 1928 and the cemetery is used to this day by descendants of the Anastasia Doukhobor Community. The name Verigin shows up on numerous grave markers and so many people with that name played big roles in her life. Many relatives of Peter Verigin, some brothers included, once lived at Anastasia Village.

There were many variants of Anastasia’s last name before she became “Lords”, with the move to Alberta. It seems no one fully agrees, but Holoboff appears more frequently that any other. While with Peter she sometimes took the name Anastasia “Lordly” Holoboff, or some variation of those other last name spellings. To be similar in form to Peter’s title.

Does adding Lords or Lordly to one’s name make them more devout or put them in better standing with heaven?

Photos of Anastasia after moving to Alberta seem to be rare, but earlier ones of her out in BC, usually in the company of Peter, are more easily sourced. We’ve included a shot of her from earlier times, which we’ve shared in the photos.

Most of the writing on Anastasia’s grave maker is in traditional Cyrillic. It reads, roughly translated: “Here is resting in peace Anastasia Lords, born on April 21, 1885 in Russia, and passed away on November 24th 1965. She was true follower of Christianity”. Thanks Rustam and Ania Mamiasheva for the translation help. An English passage reads: “In God’s Keeping Anastasia Lords.”

A memorial reads: “Toil and Peaceful Life. Lordly Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood. In this cemetery lie at rest pioneers of Dukhobor faith, who came and settled in this area, and village nearby, in the year 1926. They are gone, but not forgotten.”

Outside a large communal barn, and the cemetery, there is little left to remind us that Anastasia Village was ever here. Many of the old houses and other out buildings remained in place into the 2000s. Then they were torn down and that’s a sad loss. Now, it’s like Anastasia Village never existed.

This article is from 2015 and was one of those lost to that system crash of a while back. Maybe you’ve heard us chat about it the loss of everything from 2012-2016? What a pain! Instead of restoring from backups and calling it a day, select posts like it, will get a makeover. So a rewrite, additions and revisions as needed. If no new photos are shot, the originals will receive new edits. We’ll archive posts that are no longer relevant and forget them.

The original photos are not that great and if we’re ever in the area again (quite likely), we’ll shoot new ones. For now, they’ll do.

It’s Chris writing this piece and my step father grew up a Doukhobor, but didn’t embrace it as a adult. He hailed from Blaine Lake Saskatchewan and was in my life from the time I was two, until he passed in the late 1990s.

Know more (new tabs): Anastasia (Holoboff) Lords and Doukhobors in Alberta. We also recommend visiting Jonathan Kalmakoff’s Doukhobor.org website.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie have a unique way of documenting the places they visit, not copying the style or technique of others, but making it their own.” Alex Craig, Filmmaker.

Random awesomeness…
Moose Jaw SK Train Station (~90 Yrs Apart).
The Sectionman’s Home (Middle of Nowhere).
Bridge Hunting: Brilliant BC (made by BC Dukhobors).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: October 2015.
Location: Anastasia, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Jonathan Kalmakoff’s Doukhobor.org website, The Canadian Encyclopedia, UofC Archives + Library and Archives Canada.

Anastasia Lords is laid to rest here.

A memorial to Doukhobor pioneers of the area.

In old country Cyrillic.

Note Verigin in back – that name is seen a lot here.

Fedosia Verigin was Anastasia’s companion for years.

Inset: Anastasia before coming to Alberta – UofC Archives.

The post Anastasia Lords of Anastasia Village first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Wispy clouds on this fine day, make the perfect backdrop for another fun adventure. We’re in Central Alberta, out on a remote backroad, and exploring something special.

This post dates back to early 2016 and was lost to a recent database “incident” (<-- understatement). A crash of epic proportions, it made a mess of all articles from 2012 to 2016. Instead of restoring from backups, select ones will be reworked, updated and reposted. The older ones needed a do-over treatment anyway. We'll archive anything no longer relevant in today's world, and that's a lot of our earlier stuff.

We’re going to be a bit vague with names or locations in this post and it’s done to protect the property. A big thanks to Tom for allowing us the chance to see it and for their guidance with the subsequent research.

Grist Mills (alt: Gristmills, or Feed Mills) turn grain into flour or meal. It’s done by grinding, using a rotating stone traditionally, or rollers, and the mechanism to do this can be water, wind, animal or motor/engine driven. They’re a noisy and dusty place.

The farm here dates to 1913 and this corresponds with the time the railway opened up the region to settlement. Of course, people lived the area before, earlier homesteaders scattered here and there, and for eons, First Nations folks.

The first person here worked the the land until about 1918 and then sold it to another. The second, along with wife and kids, lived and farmed here until the mid-1920s, when the family of the current owner took possession.

Records suggest the first owner built the grist mill and if so, this makes it close to a century old (as of 2015, when first posted). He also built the house just behind. That dwelling is a small and unassuming clapboard covered, single level affair. It’s said the fellow was a skilled carpenter and most certainly it would take a great deal of talent to construct the complex mill. The house, perhaps not so much.

The grist mill’s steeply pitched intersecting gable roof, overhanging eaves and that tapered tower, must have been a real challenge to make. They say this person also had had a part in helping construct many other buildings in the area and based on all this, he was capable.

Inside, four timbers, heavy and beefy, were there to help support the milling mechanism. Presumably there would have been a round grinding stone driven by a vertical shaft here, and powered by the blades far above. How the blades and drive system were to be setup is unknown, but to move a stone we suspect it’d all have to be substantial.

During later research, we learned the mill was never finished, so there are no answers to any questions above. They installed no machinery, despite building the structure.

One has to wonder the intent of this person. Did they have hopes to sell the output to other settlers or did they just want a LOT of flour for themselves? A grist mill of this size would make more than any typical family needed, so the former seems likely.

That work on the mill stopped suggests a number of possibilities. Perhaps the design was later found to be flawed, finishing it proved beyond their abilities, or maybe they just gave up. Would the wind blow enough for it to work? It was dead calm on our visit, but here on the prairies weather can change quickly, so it’s hard to say.

The current land owner’s uncle and family lived on the property for some time (starting late 1920s recall). This is when the (unfinished and disused mill) became a blacksmith and metal working shop. They could repair or even fabricate parts as needed. Scattered about the building are bits off who knows what and much scrap metal.

A metal drum on the outside and above the door was a water-filled cistern to for use in case of a fire. A hose once lead from it down to the work area. With the building being all wood and those hot coals, the risk was great and understandably they needed to plan for such an occurrence. A cinder block stand topped by a thick cement slab was the location of the hearth.

Scattered about the interior are various racks, storage shelves and hooks to hang whatever from. More metal parts litter the floor. A repurposed truck grain-box beside the grist mill functioned as a storage shed. Reusing stuff like this is a play right out of the frugal farmer’s handbook.

It’s believed the property was lived in until the 1960s and the blacksmith shop used for a time after. A lot of years have passed since and memories become a bit cloudy. What ever the case, it’s stood empty for some time. The current owners still farm the land here, as the family has done for close to 100 years.

The old house is pretty much empty, it’s collapsing and not long for this world. It’s a modest dwelling for sure…heck it would be down right cramped if more than one or two people lived in it. Across the yard are some vintage wood granaries and they’re a part of every old farm yard it seems.

We notice a partly crushed Mercedes under a fallen building. Our vehicle IDing skills are hardly sharp, and it’s made worse given most of the car is hard to view, but it seems to be a 1965-1968 200 or 230 series. At best, that’s a guess.

Still, it has that distinctive bulbus shape and prominent grill that makes it instantly recognizable as a Mercedes. We surmise it probably wasn’t in bad shape before the building came down on it.

Directly beside the grist mill is a 1966 Ford Galaxie. It’s a giant chunk of Detroit metal, a land barge of extreme dimensions and seats about about 35! Or something close. Both it and the Mercedes were once family rides placed here when retired. Old farm yards often become the resting place for many unwanted vehicles. Park it and forget it.

Scattered about the property are other bits of machinery and this is hardly unusual for old farm yards. With metal recycling centres far away, you simply find an unused corner of a property and plop them there. A solitary light pole still stands and once provided illumination for the yard. Off in the distance is a lake, no doubt shallow as they often are on the prairies, and come summer a giant mosquito factory.

We’ve been back to the site a couple times since this visit and in some ways, it’s much as it was. The Mercedes got moved beside the grist mill for a time and later vanished completely. The old truck grain box/shed is similarly gone now. Still, the grist mill building remains and it’s a reminder of a time long passed.

These photos came from cameras not fully up to the task and we’ve since moved on to better gear. Still, we have a cobbled together mess of Franken-gear, made up of of second hand and donated bits.

Know more about these buildings work (new tab): What is a Grist Mill.

They’re saying…

“Can we all take a moment to appreciate how great this website is?” Monica & Leslie (such kind words).

Random awesomeness…
Forgotten Coal Town Cemetery.
Down by the Tracks in Coronation Alberta.
The Sidewalks of 10th Ave S Cranbrook.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: October 2015.
Article references and thanks: Thomas H, Larry A, Daniel M and local history books.

Built as a grist mill, but never used in that capacity.

Instead it functioned as a blacksmith shop for years.

Looking up the central tower.

The hearth was located on this concrete slab.

Crushed and it’s since been removed.

It would have been a challenge to build.

Seen in 2015 and close to 100 years old at the time.

A former family ride.

Scrap metal underfoot.

The drum held water in case of a fire.

The old farm house is small and overgrown.

It’s one of the more unique structures we’ve ever explored.

The post The Grist Mill / Blacksmith Shop (2015) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

Really…here, in this quiet village? Who’d have ever thought it. While the Sibbald Hotel has been around for a long time and the bar was probably just a regular small town watering hole for much of its history, it’s last incarnation as a stripper bar is a fascinating chapter. We know the girls didn’t perform all the time, but still, it seemed to be a big selling point.

This article, from 2016, is one of those lost to a recent system crash and rather than restore directly from backups, it was given a new life. We’ve updated and added to the info, but are still using original photos. They should be reshoot at some point though.

Hundred of articles (from 2012-2016) were affected by this annoying little event and any worth saving will be reposted like this. Likely with a rewrite, but not necessarily with new pics. Any bad stuff (and we’ve spewed out our share of tripe) will be deleted and forgotten of.

Now on with the story…

Who was the Sibbald Hotel Bar’s target customer when it came to strippers…the handful of people that live in town? The population in recent times has been the range of thirty to forty and even if we add in folks residing on nearby farms it’s not a big pool of customers. Many of these people are older and traditional in their ways, so we’re not certain that’s the demographic for a successful nudie bar. But who knows?

Were they hoping to catch passing motorists on the highway a little north of town? “Boy, I’m sure weary from the open road….hey boobies! Stay in the car kids, we’ll be back in an hour!” It seems unlikely, but perhaps it happened once in a while.

How about people from other towns in the area? Sure, but don’t be seen or the rumour mills will be put into motion. The only thing faster than the Internet is small town gossip, or so folks from these places often tell us. Local oilfield workers flush with cash, in the mood for a little edgy fun, and looking for a release might be a possibility too.

Let’s consider the Saskatchewan market. It didn’t click at the time of the original post, but now makes sense. The border is only a dozen kilometres away and more relaxed drinking rules in Alberta, plus time zone differences, made this bar an attractive target for those just over the border. Now it kind of makes sense. Those hard working boys in SK love a good time so how could they resist?

Still, the peelers were probably just icing on the cake and not the main motivator to come.

“I grew up 45 minutes away, in Saskatchewan where the legal drinking age is 19. Since Alberta’s legal age was 18, we’d go there for the novelty of drinking in a bar. In the late 90’s and early 2000’s there were indeed still strippers. Lol!” – Sheena.

“When I lived in Alsask, SK (just across the border from Sibbald) in the 80s, the Sibbald Hotel was still operating. Some of the clientele came from the Canadian Forces Radar Station that operated at Alsask until 1987. From time to time, the Hotel had a Ladies Night, when they would bring in male strippers. – Larry.

“Yes the Hotel was famous for its strippers and upstairs activities–the reason it lasted so long was Kids could drink at 18 in AB but 19 in Sask–plus Daylight savings time–they got an extra hour of booze…” – Kent.

The subject ruffled a few feathers too…

“It was more a strip bar they did have strippers once in a while but people came for miles to have a good time there they had live bands there once and a while to and it was a lot farther back than 2010 it was more like the 80’s you do a little more fact finding before you run a story like this.” – Mitchell (here’s some periods for you – sorry we’re just a bit mischievous today —> ….)

The response: “We don’t doubt for a second the Sibbald Hotel was other things at other times. In the context of this silly little piece, we touch on its last incarnation, that of a peeler bar before it closed for good. Our facts, they come straight from the horse’s mouth – a sign plastered to the door declaring naked girls can be found inside.” – Us.

Now, another big question: where would the girls come from? The place is literally in the middle of nowhere and probably well off the normal stripper circuit. An exotic dancer (when it was more popular) could do well bouncing between Calgary and Edmonton. Maybe hit some other major centres now and then for a bit of variety but why venture off a productive route?

We can’t see how remote strip club would be seen as an attractive place to work if getting naked for money is your thing. But as others have pointed out, and we’ve heard from tons of readers, I guess with all the well paid rig types, and boys from from just across the border made the place busier than we would have guessed. Still, seems like such an odd location to find exotic dancers. You have to admit that!

It’s assumed the girls bunked in a room upstairs. We think the last owner, or who ever ran the place, also resided up there.

What did the locals think? Did they voice their displeasure? Make a shake finger motion as they drove past? Did the community call out the business or simply accept it? It’s not sure what kind of push-back the Sibbald Hotel Gentleman’s Club received, but we suspect there must have been some.

To get some backstory we attempted to call the number seen on the sign but no one ever answered. Too bad, we’d love to get inside the head of the former owners…if they’re even still around. You gotta know this is one interesting story and far more involved than we can touch on.

There’s this hotel and the community hall across the road. The latter displays the date 1929 and that it’s very similar in appearance (sans the later ad-on sections) and from about the same time suggests they share a common lineage. The same builders perhaps?

The Sibbald Gentleman’s Club closed sometime around 2015-ish (records differ a bit). This establishment was the last very business in town and now it’s all quiet down there on Main Street. There’s the hotel, some empty lots, the town’s small RV park which we’ve never seen anyone using, and the community centre mentioned earlier.

The Sibbald Hotel once offered rooms, but this practise ended some time before it closed. Not that anyone was going to overnight here anyway. Maybe they did back when roads were local affairs and people travelled by train (the railway station was once right across the road), but not these days. The rooms were probably old style, small with only a bed and sink, with shared facilities as the end of the hall. Even if available, and in good shape, they’d be a hard sell these days.

Ghost lettering spelling out “hotel” and done vertically, can be seen on the left-front pilaster. The parapet, that raised section mid-point on the roof, once held signage that read “Hotel Sibbald”.

We’ve been back to Sibbald a couple times since and the hotel still looked the same on these visits, but the stripper notice vanished at some point. Let’s say our final farewells. The beer taps have run dry, the hotel is closed and the girls have retired, but somewhere in the memories of former patrons, the Sibbald Gentleman’s Club lives on.

Know more about the town (new tab): Sibbald Alberta.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie are the real deal – their adventures are truly interesting and fun!” Justine Cooke.

Random awesomeness…
Bay Island One Room School (1919-1950).
Coleman Alberta (Sam’s Service Station).
Retro Motels: Medicine Hat Alberta.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: July, 2016.
Location: Sibbald, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society (old phonebooks), Provincial Archives, Misc UofC Archives and chats with locals.

The Sibbald Hotel is closed.

The Community Hall across the road is similar architecturally.

“Warning, nude entertainers appearing within…”

The post Sibbald Gentleman’s Club (Closed) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

We’ve come to explore, photograph and hopefully gain a little knowledge about today’s subject. Join with us as share a tour this fine old building and touch on its history a bit. It’s a quick stop, but long enough that we really got to know and appreciate its legacy.

This area in the southeastern half of the province did not become settled until the 1910s and even now there’s not a lot of folks here. The church dates back to about this time (1918 in fact), although a cemetery on the same grounds predates it by a few years.

St Peter and Paul Church, from 1918.

Built on donated land, local farmers and homesteaders also financed its construction. Many were of Polish descent and made up the (Catholic) congregation here. It cost some twenty five hundred dollars to build and that’s equivalent to about $46k today, give or take. Even in 2025 dollars it seems like pocket change and that amount wouldn’t get you a dog house in most places today.

St Peter and Paul Church is wood framed and sits on on a full concrete foundation. An upper balcony occupies the space over the interior main entrance but otherwise, it’s a very open form. The woodwork is understated, yet elegant. A confessional stands to one side up front near the Altar and two rows of pews flank the main aisleway.

The building is on an east-west alignment and the front door faces the morning sun. Windows are the traditional Gothic-arch style and of stained glass, which gives a subdued, yet colourful glow to the interior.

Most prominent on the exterior is the tall bell tower (belfry) and it’s in a traditional spot right at the front entrance. It’s said the bell of St Peter and Paul came by way of the Canadian Pacific Railway in the 1940s. Donated we suppose? Off a (presumably retired) steam locomotive? While not stated explicitly, one can’t help wonder.

Tall hedges surround the church grounds and they’re not just decorative but a good windbreak. When there’s more than a breeze you need a little shelter.

The whole area around is nothing but cultivated fields and they stretch off to the horizon in every direction. Township and range roads form a grid and divide the land into sections. From above it looks like a checker board of sorts, but on a grand scale.

The rear of the building, on the inside comprises the Altar space and it’s a later addition. It’s part of an old school building, Grant School District and when no longer needed (1940s) it was brought here from not far away. The two are now one. Even though it’s somewhat different architecturally, it fits in well with the rest of the building. Speaking of schools, the basement of the church functioned as one in the 1920s.

The first baptism at St Peter and Paul happened around the time it opened and the first wedding came a couple years later. Services were held fairly regularly here, sometimes weekly but other times stated as bi-weekly. A priest came in from a nearby town and boarded at a farm somewhere close by.

The congregation actually grew over the years, hence the school addition in back that we spoke of earlier, before dropping off quickly in the 1960s. Since about this time the church only sees sporadic use during funerals or for special services. Still, it’s well kept up, inside and out. It looks cared for…it looks loved.

The attached cemetery is still in use and the first grave here date back to 1913.

Country Churches like St Peter and Paul, were once common across the plains but are getting rare these days. We still find the occasional one here and there while out on adventures, but not with any great frequency. Some still see use, generally limited in scope, but use none the less, but we find a lot in a disused or even derelict state.

St Peter and Paul Church is not ostentatious in form or design and seems the archetype of a rural country church. There’s a sharply peaked roof, a bell tower, a row of windows along each side and the whole building is painted white. It’s a humble place, simple in design and beautiful.

Catholicism is and has been traditionally the largest single religion in terms of numbers, in the entire country. There’s some eleven million followers scattered from coast to coast and with the highest concentration in Quebec.

St Peter played an important role in the early days of Christianity and was one of the Twelve Apostles of Christ. St Paul, or Paul the Apostle was a teacher of the Gospel in the first century. As founders of the Church in Rome, they’re often celebrated together.

If you drop by St Peter and Paul please be respectful of the building and grounds.

In the attached cemetery.

This post is from 2016 and one of those lost to a system crash a while back. Hundreds of articles were messed up in that event and any still relevant will be brought back with updates and perhaps a reworking. The remainder will be trashed and forgotten of.

Know more about (new tabs): Saint Peter and Saint Paul.

They’re saying…

“Chris and Connie delve into the nooks & crannies of the Canadian Prairies. They detail interesting histories accompanied with revealing photos. A lot of information and work and the results are fantastic.”

Naomi Kikoak.

Random awesomeness…
Legends of the Fall (1994) Family Cemetery.
The Giants of Cathedral Grove (BC).
Calgary Stampede 2020: Cancelled! (the first time in a century).

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: July, 2016
Location: Eastern Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Jason Sailer our host, the book Times to Remember Acadia Valley and the Catholic Diocese of Calgary.

Looking back.

On an eastern Alberta backroad.

Thanks to recent rains.

Possibly a locomotive bell?

Rear section is from a former school moved here.

(Basement) The rugged old cross.

It’s well kept inside and out.

Little details that catch the eye.

From the upper balcony.

Bathed in the soft light.

It’s only used from time to time now.

A field behind the hedge windbreak.

The post St Peter and Paul Church 1918 first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

It was a one, two punch with hundreds of small prairie towns losing rail service, concurrent with the closing of local grain elevators. It seems every community in the grain growing regions had both, and sometimes multiples of the latter, often belonging to a number of competing firms.

The two major railways had obligations to maintain service on prairie branches prior to this time, and that’s even if they were money losers. Most lines fell into that category. The government deemed it essential that services continued and made it difficult, if not impossible to call it quits. Still, the railways wanted out and would do what they could to make it happen.

The grain companies concurred and felt a change of ways was the only path to survival. So downsizing, consolidations and a rethinking of the process. At the urging of all the big players involved, the government changed the rules. They made it easy to get out, and while some who grew the grain may have had reservations, the big companies were happy to let go.

One given the green light, branch lines were dismantled at an incredible pace and old grain elevators came down just as fast. It’s like a tsunami hit and in the end, these small towns are perhaps a bit poorer for it. Many were already on the decline and for some it was a death blow. Others took the hit and survived, but still lost a lot overall. Not many have recovered.

It’s Chris writing this and during the second half of the 1990s I was driving for an oil field delivery company and regularly roaming about rural areas. From a hurried driver’s position I witnessed the death of many grain branch lines and the elevators that formerly supported them.

While the camera was along for many of these trips, the “get it there yesterday” nature of the hot-shot business meant I had little time to stop or even slow down. Maybe a drive-by shot, but even then, not too often.

While all what we see here on this website was an interest even back then, the hard reality is one had to ignore it while working. Abandoned places: ignored. Trains: ignored. All else: ignored. The only priority was getting the load to the consignee and all else be dammed. No matter how frustrating and disappointing it became.

That gorgeous abandoned farm…dead ahead and then in the side-view, getting smaller and smaller till it’s gone…forget about it. Sure enough the next time through it had vanished…that happened time and again. No, drive past and there’s no time.

Still, every now and then, if the stars aligned right, there was sometimes a chance to stop. Like on an empty return trip. That’s what happened here on a late fall or early winter day of 1997 in Torrington Alberta. It’s a rough guess date, based on notes of the time.

These images are from scanned 35mm prints (really bad ones) and show the town’s grain elevators near the end. One is already gone and the second is soon to follow.

There’s the target ahead, in Torrington, a group of grain elevators partly demolished and a welcome chance to stop. I noticed these on the drive in and the hope was they’d still be standing on the return leg. Bingo – the workers had yet to finish the job.

Finally, it’s a chance to break out the camera and document something, instead of having to let it go. Driving passed something interesting, but being unable to stop was pure torture.

The first elevator was already in ruins by this point and just a pile of splintered wood. It once belong to Pioneer Grain. Not far away, a second Pioneer elevator was facing the same fate. Equipment was busy tearing it apart and while a sad event, it’s strangely fascinating at the same time. Glad I got to be witness to the event and record a bit of it. Still, I couldn’t hang around for it to fully fall.

The blue colour of the second Pioneer elevator tells us it’s a former Alberta Wheat Pool facility. Each firm had company colours which helped them stand out and this makes identification (or lineage) pretty easy. Usually. However, elevators often changed hands from company to company, so to find one in the wrong company colours isn’t unheard of.

That said, this structure is the Pool’s 1978 built elevator, which Pioneer acquired at some point in the early to mid-1990s(?). You’re looking at a late model wooden grain elevator here and by the 1980s, the last were built. This one had a short life. That gouge affords us a good look into the heart of the building and see the lay out.

The demolished Pioneer elevator in front dates from the early 1930s (about the time of Torrington’s founding). At one time Pioneer had other elevators here, also dating to the early 1930s and with rather long and complicated lineages. These were gone in the 1980s. A second older (early 1930s) Alberta Wheat Pool elevator stood in town as well, but it was gone by the mid-1980s.

At the peak (1930s), there were over 1700 traditional style wooden grain elevators scattered throughout Alberta. By the time I visited Torrington, there were well-under 400 and the numbers quickly shrinking. At time of this post (2012, when originally written), there were perhaps a hundred and forty-ish.

We’re only counting traditional wooden elevators used to ship out grain by rail. Fast forward to 2025 and the numbers are lower still.

The grain still moves by train – it’s the most efficient way after all – but now giant inland terminals have taken the place of the small town grain elevator. They’re massive concrete and/or steel structures visible from kilometres away and able to process huge volumes. Instead of loading a few rail cars at a time many can fill a complete train in one pass.

They’re smaller in number and further apart, but of course more efficient. Before the trains came the grain and now the grain comes to the trains. Sometimes from a great distance away.

Torrington was founded roughly concurrent with the arrival of the Canadian Pacific Railway’s Wimborne branch (Acme Subdivision), in 1930. That line lasted into 1996-ish (reports differ) and by my visit the tracks were already gone. Today, Torrington is home to about two hundred and twenty some people and has Hamlet status. While the loss of the railway and grain elevators was a blow, they seemed to have toughed it out better than some. Today, the town is not all that different compared to the 1990s, when our photos were captured.

This post goes back to 2012 and one more of many lost to a database crash from a few months ago. Rather than restore from backup, it got a complete make-over – a rewrite, revisions and so on – but using the original images. Of course, since the subject is long gone. Other lost posts will be reviewed on an individual basis and if still relevant, will get a similar treatment before reposting.

Know more about the town (new tab): Torrington Alberta.

They’re saying…

“…always interesting, and Chris & Connie do an amazing job on studying their subject matter.” Rik Barry.

Random awesomeness…
Main Street Beiseker Alberta 110 Years Apart.
The Lonely Laing House (1910s).
Urban Trek: 17th Ave SE.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: Late 1997.
Location: Torrington, Alberta.
Article references and thanks: UofC Archives, Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society and the late Jim Pearson.

The last days of the last grain elevator in Torrington Alberta.

Looking out from remains of another.

That colour marks it as a former Alberta Wheat Pool facility.

On the abandoned railway line.

Not long after, it was all history.

The post The Last Grain Elevator in Torrington first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.

The sign became exposed (in 2016) during renovations at Calgary’s Westbrook Mall and on gazing up it all came back. It’s not just a nostalgia rush for the the firm in general, but also this store in particular. Chris here, and I knew the place well as a youngster. When ditching class at Manning, I’d head down to the mall to play a little pinball at the arcade, nurse a coffee at the Woolco cafeteria, or window shop at the Shack.*

This very store functioned like a second home, but rarely was there money to make a purchase.

This old signage became exposed due to a tenant vacating the space and removing their storefront. I’m speaking of The Source (by Circuit City – the company that succeeded Radio Shack) and given the Westbrook outlet was underperforming at the time, it became one of a group to close that year. The Source continued on for a time, but it too is now history.

These remains had vanished by the time we next visited Westbrook Mall a week or so later. They’re gone forever. Now all that’s left are recollections from long ago and they’re stored up in this old brain (in that special section reserved for good memories). Who else out there recalls this store as fondly as I?

Let’s go back in time to say the ’70s or ’80s to when “The Shack” was the go-to outlet when one needed consumer tech or even a little tech advice. As a retail juggernaut they seemingly had everything a hobbyist or enthusiast could desire and it always seemed busy. The staff were typically knowledgeable and gave decent advice.

Want a tv, record player, tape deck, computer (TRS-80 baby!), CB radio (big once, good buddy) or batteries of any kind? They were the place. Need the building blocks for a homebrew electronics project or repairs? Test gear or tools of the trade? You made a bee-line to the nearest one.

Radio Shack advertised themselves as “The Technology Store” or (in the States) as “America’s Technology Store”. They were unrivaled at the time and held a near-monopoly in certain market segments. Every mall had one as a tenant and the firm advertised heavily. They printed catalogues by the millions and handed them out completely free. To the faithful these volumes were both a reference guide and a wish list.

Their “Free Battery of the Month” club drew in lots of people and once they had you inside, you probably purchased something else. Yours truly figured out a way to have several cards in rotation and perhaps in a small way this set in motion the firm’s later demise.

For years Radio Shack were one of the big players in the home and small business computer market. The Model 1 and Model III were big sellers early on and later they made IBM(ish) compatibles. These did well for a time and branded “Tandy” (Radio Shack’s then parent company).

Radio Shack had several house brands and in fact most of what they sold theirs. Here’s some that come to mind…

Micronta was for testing gear mostly – mutlimeters, logic probes and stuff like that.

Science Fair was for electronic kits and I for one recall the 150-in-1 electronic project kit gifted me on a birthday long ago. For a young, budding techie, it proved more than a toy, but a tool of discovery. One second it was a radio and another, a disco strobe light.

There’s fond memories of making an electronic siren (that made me popular with neighbours), a directional light meter, light organ, that Morse-code noise making thing (another everyone hated) and the always popular capacitive shocker. Touch these two wires…I dare you.

After trying all the experiments it was time to move on. Based on lessons learned a more powerful radio, a super-sensitive bugging device and (the legendary) almost lethal hyper-shocker were all tried. There’ll be smoke coming from your ears from that last one.

This overly zealous approach lead to a couple component meltdowns and the the kit soon a smoldering ruin. Darn near burned the house down in the process and soon after what remained of it went into the garbage. Only ever seen one in person since.

Archer was for all manner of products, including DYI electronic parts and tools. This is the name remembered most here and it was building things that captivated this guy the most. Radio Shack owned this market at the time and did well. Enercell is the name give the battery line and the free give-away proved to be a genius loss-leader.

Realistic is the most widely recognized name and it applied to many consumer electronics sold here. Stereos and TVs, CBs and whatever. They moved a lot of gear and especially at Christmas. Critics and audiophiles often panned their sound equipment but research suggest some of it wasn’t too bad. Still, the Realistic stigma never went away.

Products sold a the Shack came from either the parent Tandy corporation or contract manufacturers. No other competitor sold the same stuff and this gave them an exclusivity for a time.

The firm came to Canada about 1970 and in the beginning, but only briefly, used the name Allied Radio Shack. These stores were a mirror images of US outlets and down there the firm goes back to the early 1920s. The Westbrook Mall store opened in about 1977 and so this fellow has known it since it was new. Bought many things there, small stuff mostly and usually of an experimental nature, but dreamt of purchasing much more.

Interestingly, a second Radio Shack once operated nearby and in a strip mall just down the block from Westbrook. In business from 1971 and into 1990. Just a stone’s throw away, but a world apart and indoor mall stores always did better than those with outside entrances. It’s now a Korean Chicken place and they serve yummy eats.

In the mid-1980s Canadian Radio Shack Stores became independent from the US, but in outward appearances nothing really changed.

At one point there were well over a dozen Radio Shack stores in Calgary and indoor malls were home to most. Southcentre, Chinook, Market Mall, among others and of course lowly Westbrook. Lowly? More in a minute.

In the mid-2000s the company ended operations in Canada. Former stores became The Source by Circuit City and they were similar in scope as before, but with greater emphasis on things like cell phones.

The Source was still operating in Canada when this store closed, but in 2024, any outlets still in business (they downsized over the years) became Best Buy Express stores. They continues to sell electronics and tech, so the theme is pretty much the same.

Interestingly, the Source became Circuit City’s only foray into Canada and they never did open any of their super-stores here. Circuit City went out of business about a dozen years ago, down there, and are now a memory. The Source by Circuit City was actually owned by another tech firm afterwards, but they kept the name. Radio Shack in the US (now stylized RadioShack) still exists but they’ve had a rocky few years and the company is a shadow of its former self.

Radio Shack grew to be huge but is now just another long established firm that has fallen and no longer a market leader. Technology was once a highly profitable business, but now just another everyday product. Make it cheap or else is the only consideration.

This guy hadn’t thought of Radio Shack for years until they exposed the old sign and the memories quickly returned. It’s a bit bittersweet, but times change and the old ways become stale. So long Radio Shack and it’s nice to know you (said while presently searching eBay for a 150-in-1 kit).

Westbrook is one of Calgary’s oldest enclosed malls (1964) and is mere blocks from BIGDoer HQ. Went to school in the area, vowed to never return but came back anyway, over thirty years ago. You can’t get away from this neighbourhood and no matter how you try, you’re stuck here.

Westbrook Mall is the city’s premiere shopping destination…or not. Most days it’s dead now but when I went to school nearby (Manning and earlier Scott Junior High) crazy busy would be the best way to describe it. It was the place to shop – Woolco at one end, Safeway at the other – and lots of really cool stores in between.

Now, it’s empty shops or stores that come and go. Walmart does well enough, but is only sort of connected to the mall (most of their customers never see anything else), Safeway still okay business, as does Sport Chek, but the small shops seem to have little traffic. A few malls in the city seem to do well, but for the rest, including Westbrook, it’s best described as a general malaise. No one makes it their shopping destination.

This post is one of those lost to a recent website database crash (no doubt you’ve heard us bemoaning the event) and rather then simply restore from a backup, we felt it needed a reworking anyway. There’s new and updated info, but we reused the original photo. What you see here is loooong gone and we couldn’t take a new photo even if we wanted.

All older posts were messed up by this little “glitch” and rather than restore enmasse from mirrored copies, we’re taking a different approach. Those that still have some relevancy today will get a do-over of some sort and then be reposted. Some might get new photos, when possible, but for others we’ll reuse older images. No matter which, all will get a rewrite and those not making the cut will be forgotten. There’s some bad ones we don’t want anyone to see anymore.

This will mean a bit more work, but since it’s mostly re-edits, it’s not that bad.

*Money permitting, a beer with fellow class-cutters at the Westgate might also be a possibility, but that’s another story. The place became infamous with underage booze-hounds at school – they’d didn’t card and were only a short walk away. How convenient!

Know more (new tab): Radio Shack Canada Closes and The Source by Circuit City.

They’re saying…

“…If you love our history this site is worth exploring.” Brian Holt.

Calgary memories…
Kart World or Kart Gardens? (2014).
You Are Here: Corral 4 Drive-in Calgary.
1959 Calgary Stampede Dream Home.
Gonesville: Stadium Shopping Centre.

Something to say and no one to say it to? Go here: Contact Us!

Date of adventure: May, 2016.
Location: Westbrook Mall, Calgary Alberta.
Article references and thanks: Medicine Hat & District Genealogical Society, the WayBackMachine, vintage Radio Shack Canada Catalogues found online (also for US RadioShackCatalogs.com) and personal recollections as this former Radio Shack groupie.

Ghost signage from the old Radio Shack in Westbrook Mall.

The post Radio Shack Westbrook Mall (Calgary) first appeared on Off the Beaten Path with Chris & Connie.