  2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
Orginally published June 1, 2010
Article and photos by Paul Williams
The idea for a cross-country trip occurred on a cold, bleak day in the middle of an Ottawa winter. I’d had enough of the shivering and shoveling, the freezing rain and the blowing snow; I needed an escape. A web search for interesting car shows in warmer climes turned up the annual All British Field Meet (ABFM) in Vancouver, held each May on Victoria Day weekend. One look at the spectacular pictures from previous ABFMs, and the decision was made.
The vision was of sunlit blue skies, spring flowers, and actual leaves on trees. Basking in their shade would be hundreds of fine British cars from bygone years, and modern ones, too. Simply thinking about it lifted my spirits, and the next thought seemed obvious: “Why not drive a British car to the event?”
So it was that BMW Canada graciously signed on, supplying one of its special edition 2010 Mini Cooper S “Camden” vehicles for the trip. Maybe I’d even win the “Long Distance” award in the “new” Mini (still built in Britain, mind you, even though BMW holds the purse-strings).
For people who don’t like winter, planning an event like this is a great way to take your mind off of parkas, toques, snow tires and the ubiquitous Thinsulate. But there’s no real preparation required as far as the vehicle is concerned; you just turn the key and go, such is the quality and reliability of today’s new cars. Nonetheless, it’s a good 4,600 kilometres from Ottawa to Vancouver, and that’s taking the “short” route, under Lake Superior. For the lone driver, it takes some time. I initially budgeted five days, Monday to Friday, but decided to get a head start by leaving at noon on the Sunday preceding the show, just in case.
Day 1: Ottawa to Sudbury, Ontario (484 km)
Years as an automotive journalist have taught me to travel light, and you may be thinking that a Mini would put that experience to good use. But it turns out that small as the Mini is, interior space is quite sufficient for a long journey with one or two occupants. The trunk easily contained my luggage, laptop computer, gym shoes and the like; and there are numerous places handy to the driver to put things like your phone, wallet, CDs and camera. The back seat, save for a jacket, remained empty. But it could fold to make more space if required.
  2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
The Camden 50 edition comes with standard Bluetooth, which connects to your phone simply and efficiently. Volume is controlled by the volume knob for your audio, which in this model is the upgraded Bose system. Other “Camden” features are a choice of special colours and exterior graphics (this one was White Silver Metallic), 17-inch “silver shield” wheels, bi-xenon headlamps with black reflectors, heated seats, auto-dimming mirror, rain-sensing wipers and special interior trim. And I almost forgot (put it out of my mind, actually) the Camden edition also features Mission Control, whereby two caricatures of British people comment on your driving as you start, corner, stop and park your Mini. Yes, it’s a talking car, and not one of BMW’s best ideas, in my opinion. I pulled the plug on this annoying duo within 15 minutes of driving the car.
At the risk of being repetitive (I’ve made this point many times), a Mini is extremely fun to drive. In fact, I don’t think there’s another vehicle that handles this smartly, and is so responsive to driver inputs for the money. And even though Mini’s have been on the road since 2002, people still find it very engaging; it seems to attract attention wherever you go.
 2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
Nimble as it is in the city, a Mini Cooper S is a delight on the highway. Stable, quiet, quick and fuel efficient, the little car is totally unruffled by high-speed, long-distance work. Fuel consumption was 6.5 L/100 km (44 MPG Imperial) on the comparatively short jaunt from Ottawa to Sudbury, Ontario, and it would get slightly better.
Heading up Highway 17 from Ottawa, you pass through Deep River, Sturgeon Falls and North Bay. The two-lane road is tree-lined, rural, and on a Sunday is mostly populated by families visiting flea markets and nurseries, or heading to the local restaurant for breakfast, lunch or dinner “specials.”
It’s been a while since I’ve visited Sudbury, and my apologies for the out-of-date preconception, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this nice! There’s interesting architecture, wide streets, the distinctive rocky landscape, and I thought a general sense of prosperity about the place. Maybe it was the sunshine and blue skies, but Sudbury looked a good community in which to live. I could have happily stayed longer, but like Elwood and Jake from the Blues Brothers, I was on a mission.
  2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
Day 2: Sudbury to Duluth (979 km)
This is a long one-day drive, but very scenic. When I last drove to Vancouver (2003), I took the northern route over Lake Superior, but this time I headed to Sault Ste Marie and crossed into Michigan. The route from “The Soo” runs pretty much due west, hugging the south shore of Lake Superior via Highway 28 through Marquette, and on to Duluth, Minnesota. My route would take me through four American states – Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota and North Dakota — but compared to the all-Canadian route it saves several hours, and was new country to me.
  2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
Well, guess what? It’s beautiful up there! What Michigan calls its Northern Shores are a fabulous sight indeed, and in springtime, before the tourists head there for fishing, camping and cottaging, the roads are lightly travelled and the sandy beaches pristine and unoccupied.
But if you’re on the clock, the speed limit is very slow – the “double nickel,” they used to call it – 55 miles-per-hour on wide, sweeping roads, and it seems impossible to maintain this adagio pace. Put it this way: at 110 km/h, I caught no-one and was passed by several, which I think means I was the slowest guy on the road, right? That was to be my defence if one of Michigan’s finest pulled me over.
On the positive side, however, 110 km/h on “cruise” decreases fuel consumption to 6.4 L/100 km, with fill-ups costing under $35.00 American. You’d need a Mini diesel to do much better (which they have in Europe, by the way…).
Much of the country in this part of the world is designated State or National Forest – Pictured Rocks, Hiawatha, Ottawa, Van Piper, Chequamegon — punctuated by appealing communities like Munising and Marquette (not to forget Christmas, complete with Candy Cane Lane). And situated along the road are many tidy, scenic rest stops with clean washrooms (restrooms, they’re called here), barbeques, and picnic tables that are usually sited on a pleasant river or next to a beach or falls. This is like time-travelling back to the 1960s, when everyone camped, fished and canoed, and gas stations had smiling attendants giving “Full Service,” (yes, that’s advertised here as well).
“Check your oil, sir? Windshield?” Okay, I exaggerate.
Driving along, you can discern the history of the area by the preponderance of First Nations community names, but the area is also home to numerous credit unions and cooperatives, horse-drawn wagons, and the occasional use of French (L’anse, Au Train, Grand Marais).
  2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
As I have an appointment to keep, I couldn’t stop at Ashland, Wisconsin (“Lake Superior’s Hometown”), even though I’d acquired an hour by entering the Central time zone. It’s around Ashland that you leave Highway 28 for Highway 2, and it’s a town that suggests a day exploring the fine beaches and interesting downtown streets would be well spent. Ashland became another on my long list of “places to return to.”
As I say, it’s a long haul to Duluth, but it was made more of a challenge for two reasons: 1), my portable Garmin GPS seems to be experiencing early onset Alzheimer’s, and 2), oddly, Duluth doesn’t appear on road signs until you are about 15 km away from it. Maybe they just figure Duluth’s big enough that you can’t miss it.
 2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
Day 3: Duluth, Minnesota to Weyburn, Saskatchewan (1,038 km)
Indeed, Duluth was the biggest city I’d seen in a while, but with a population of only 87,000, it’s no major metropolis. Nonetheless, the region attracts 3.5 million tourists per year, according to VisitDuluth.com, with “the outdoors” the main draw. It’s a Top Ten city for clean air, and offers sculptural gardening exhibits, skiing, Tall Ships, hiking, rock climbing, birding, fishing, the world’s longest natural sand bar and other scenic and healthy pursuits that seem to represent the way of life in Duluth. However, the largest open-pit mine in the world is also close by. Maybe they mine responsibly?
West of Duluth, Highway 2 thankfully picks up the pace by a full 30 per cent. Interestingly, the increased speed didn’t affect the Mini’s fuel consumption, which remained at 6.4 L/100 km, but ironically, although people are driving much faster than on the two-lane Highway 28, the quality of the road surface is poorer here than in Michigan and Wisconsin.
But one’s mind is quickly taken off the rough road surface by the radiant quality of Northern Minnesota’s light. I’ll bet artists go to Minnesota to paint, because the countryside truly sparkles as the sun rises on a spring morning here. Most of the rural homes are white, and many homeowners have installed bright red or blue roofs that seem to glow with neon luminosity against the sky. It’s really quite something!
  The Winnibigoshish General Store, in Minnesota & The Big Fish, in Bena, Minnesota. Click image to enlarge |
Not many people have seen a Mini in Minnesota, it seems. Lots of people look and I’ve only encountered one other – a yellow Cooper S with all the trimmings – since crossing the border. Mind you, as I mentioned earlier, there isn’t a lot of traffic on the roads yet other than commercial vehicles, as tourist season won’t begin in earnest for another month or so.
 One of Minnesota’s fine rest stops. Click image to enlarge |
Several interesting roadside attractions appear on this stretch of Highway 2, including the eye-catching Winnibigoshish General Store, resplendent in red and white; the Backwoods Trading Post at Shevlin, worth a few hours hunting through the old cars and automotive memorabilia; and, of course, Bena’s “The Big Fish,” which, believe me, you can’t miss. It has been recently restored.
And Minnesota is not to be outdone by Michigan and Wisconsin when it comes to rest stops. Each one is a scenic attraction, with Oak Lake, winner of the Cleanest Rest Stop three years in a row, truly immaculate in its tidiness. Occupying choice lakeside real estate, it has a full-time uniformed attendant on duty to ensure travellers get the very best rest stop experience. I’m still blown away by this phenomenon; some of these places look like tourist destinations in their own right.
The landscape approaching Grand Forks features mostly Birch and Spruce (not very tall) and many roadside signs advertising quilts, quilt fairs, quilting schools and general quilting activities. Signage identifying hunting and fishing opportunities now pepper the route, along with signs for local businesses owned by people with Scandinavian names. Churches are ubiquitous, covering the full spectrum of flavours, and likewise, you won’t go far without encountering a shop to buy “Guns and Ammo.”
Moving into North Dakota, the Scandinavian connection fully resolves (remember the movie, “Fargo?”). The State has several highway improvement projects underway (thank goodness…), but delays were minimal. Heading through Grand Forks, Devil’s Lake and on to Minot, North Dakota becomes flat and farmed. At this time of year stubble is being burned off, and crops are planted. It’s wheat country, and dairy, too. Vast farms and ranches extend to the horizon, although there are some hills and curves to break the monotony.
  Cross-Country Cooper, Day three. Click image to enlarge |
Highway 2 continues on all the way to Spokane, Washington (that would be a trip…), but eventually I head north on Highway 52 at Minot, toward the Saskatchewan border and my overnight stop in Weyburn. There’s not much on Highway 52, although the people in Kenmare seem to have a sense of humour, what with the town’s annual “GooseFest,” and the busy S.O.B. Restaurant (South Of the Border…). Little else surrounds Kenmare besides space.
 Weyburn, SK’s signature wheat sculptures. Click image to enlarge |
The Border crossing (at a place with the otherworldly name of Portal) was basically a wave and a “welcome back.” No traffic, no lines, no issues, no charge! The world as it should be, I think.
Everything from Portal to Weyburn – including the city of Estevan, with apparently the “clearest skies in Canada” — is about oil, coal and power generation. Oil rigs, oil drilling, oil speculation, oil equipment and trucks carrying oil and coal related materials cover the rough-hewn landscape, and here a Mini doesn’t seem entirely the right kind of rig for the road.
The environment flattens in a hurry, though, and wheat becomes the dominant commodity. Other than that, what can one say of the Prairies other than here is a great opportunity to see what the world looks like with nothing on the surface?
Eventually, Weyburn appeared, with its signature giant wheat sculptures and the news (in the community paper) that a Pizza Hut will soon be locating there. The town bills itself as “The Largest Inland Grain Gathering Point in Canada,” and indeed one would be hard pressed to find a place with more trucks gathering in one place. The city seems entirely populated with truck drivers, oil workers, rail workers, equipment operators, cowboys and wheeler-dealers. Women are few and far between, and everyone’s on their cell phone talking to someone about a deal or a contract or a job. It’s a happening town, if commerce is what you’re after.
  Cross-Country Cooper, Day four; 2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden at Bethune, SK. Click image to enlarge |
Day 4: Weyburn, Saskatchewan to Edmonton, Alberta (895 km)
From Weyburn there is a choice to be made. Take the Trans-Canada Highway 1 through Medicine Hat, Calgary and Kelowna, or head to the Yellowhead Highway (Trans-Canada Highway 16) via Regina, Saskatoon, Edmonton and Jasper, then down to Kamloops and on to Vancouver. Local knowledge has recommended the Yellowhead route, even though it’s longer, because it’s mostly four-lane, high-speed, and with minimal obstruction due to trucks and trailers. As mine is more of a Jack Kerouac blitz across the country, rather than an edifying meander, I chose the Yellowhead.
Highway 39 northwest from Weyburn is a busy road with a speed limit vastly exceeded by the locals. It’s also bumpy and rough in places, producing a noisy driving experience in the Mini (the aggregate is course, like in Newfoundland).
However, fuel consumption is now pinned at 6.3 L/100km, which gives the Mini an easy 750 km per tank. If this was a fuel economy run, one could lose the automatic climate control, and maybe decrease consumption by a further five per cent. But the outside temperature on this trip is nudging 30-degrees and I won’t do without “air.” The Mini definitely seems to like higher cruising speeds, though, and settles right in.
   Cross-Country Cooper, Day four. Click image to enlarge |
At Regina I feared my GPS was having another “senior moment” as she (“Karen” is the name Garmin has assigned her; an Australian avatar with a somewhat impatient demeanour) unexpectedly pointed me east. The reason, it turned out, is that Regina has a ring road, and this means you have to go east for a while, in order to eventually go west. So she was on her game after all (I remained skeptical).
But gone are the charming rest stops, to be replaced with the stark utility of Canadian roadside amenities, as found at Bethune. Well, that’s not entirely fair, as it is a pretty spot next to the historic Fort Ellice-Elbow Trail, with some picnic tables and an historic marker. But no cold soft drinks, no sparkling loo’s, no glass-walled or redbrick structures filled with brochures, maps and baby change rooms. Everything is, shall we say, outhouse-functional.
  2010 Mini Cooper S 50 Camden. Click image to enlarge |
I did forget to mention the town of Craik: “The friendliest place by a dam site.” Who could argue with that?
Beyond Regina on the multi-lane Hwy 11, I headed toward “The Battlefords,” which sounds like a squabbling couple, but turns out to be two places of the North and South variety. Karen is now habitually finding herself off the road, and barking instructions for me to “Please drive to the highlighted route.” She seems truly distraught at finding herself in the middle of a field with no actual road to get back onto the highway. Of course, we’re on the highway, and she’s gone ditzy.
At any rate, I find Saskatoon without Karen’s help; another bustling town en route, where the promise of a coffee at Tim Hortons is dashed by the fact that this particular location is under construction. Indeed, fast food joints are spreading like Virginia Creeper in Saskatchewan, and I note a particular opportunity for vendors of the donut.
It’s at Saskatoon, though, that I first officially connect with the Yellowhead Highway (called the Yellowhead Route in Saskatchewan), complete with special roadside signs, as the Trans-Canada Highway 16 “Yellowhead” continues its long journey west from Winnipeg, Manitoba. At North Battleford, the highway is smooth but undulates, which is a surface not suited for the Mini’s short wheelbase. After a stretch of behaving like a “nodder” behind the wheel, the road becomes a quiet strip along which the Mini virtually floats without road or wind noise at all. This highway is built for speed, and all vehicles are making time.
Speaking of the Mini, you’ll notice I haven’t mentioned too much about it recently, and that’s because there are no real issues. A friend e-mailed to ask if it’s comfortable in this small car on such a long trip, and the answer is “yes.” It remains fun to drive even after a couple of thousand kilometres, there isn’t the slightest rattle or noise, the seat is well-designed and doesn’t tire the driver, the engine speed — even at 120 km/h — is barely over 3,000 r.p.m., and the Bose audio produces quality sound to help pass the time.
  Waiting at a level crossing; Crossing from Saskatchewan into Alberta, at an intersection in Lloydminster. Click image to enlarge |
What would be good is an extra power point (to simultaneously accommodate phone and GPS), a centre armrest (it’s optional; I prefer it), a more prominent digital speedometer in front of the driver (the large, centrally located analog speedometer looks cool, but is not easy to read, and the digital option is not big enough), and slightly larger sunvisors (likely not possible, but these guys are pint-sized). I’d also like an A and B four-digit trip odometer (this car’s single trip-meter turns over at 999, which is probably a week’s vacation in Europe, but not enough for a day-trip in North America). One more thing, the door makes a really unappealing “clack” when you shut it. Even if you give it a bit of a slam, it clacks. Doesn’t sound good.
After unceremoniously crossing the border to Alberta at an intersection in Lloydminster, the landscape becomes rugged and industrial again. But more importantly, the temperature dropped by 20 degrees as a cold front brought rain and high winds. An opportunity to stop in at Vegreville (which in the failing light I initially misread as Veggieville…) was therefore postponed, along with the chance to get a close-up look at the “world’s largest Pylanka.” Darn…
  Cross-Country Cooper, Day five. Click image to enlarge |
Day 5: Edmonton to Kamloops, British Columbia (805 km)
I know, you’re thinking the little car is going to huff and puff when it hits the mountains. It’s only a 1.6-litre engine after all, and those mountains are of the genuine variety (unlike some Ontario ski resorts I’ve visited). Well, I’m back up to 6.4 L/100 km, if that means anything, Rockies notwithstanding.
The route continues along the Yellowhead Trail (in Alberta it’s a Trail…) but changes to Highway 5 at Tete Jaune Cache, where it heads south to Jasper (Hwy 16 continues to Prince Rupert, British Columbia on the mainland, and via ferry to Masset on the Queen Charlotte Islands) and eventually mountains appear in the distance (no prize for guessing which ones). By this time the weather was bleak; all dark grey clouds, pelting rain, windy and cold. The divided highway abruptly ends at Hinton, Alberta, and the speed limit drops to 100 km/h (which is still not too bad for a two-lane road traversing a mountain range).
Observing the mountains close-up, you can see that back in the day, when it came time to naming them, the adjective “rocky” would come readily to mind. They are that, and they are also habitat to wildlife that roam around unfettered, thus regularly impeding the flow of traffic. Don’t get me wrong, I like moose as much as the next guy, but there’s no reason for a group of them to loiter on the highway, I think you’ll agree.
At the Alberta-British Columbia border – the precise point – the rain stopped, the clouds parted and the sun began to shine. I merely report what happened, and don’t infer any particular meaning to the phenomenon. Nonetheless, things were looking up in B.C.
At the Mount Robson Cafe, I consumed probably the best meal I’ve had since leaving Ottawa: namely, Sharon’s Chicken Salad. I don’t think it’s particularly popular, as there are about twelve kinds of burgers on the menu, but if the results are anything to go by, Sharon seems pleased when someone orders her namesake salad, and goes all-out.
  The Alberta-B.C. border & On to Mount Robson for lunch. Click image to enlarge |
Surprisingly, driving over the Rockies is no big deal. I get that three-hundred years ago people had to portage over the darned things with their canoes on their heads, but nowadays, you just step on the gas and go. However, like the moose, there are some things that don’t belong on this two-lane road — namely Nissan Rogues towing 8,000-pound trailers, and air-cooled Volkswagen Westfalias reliving their youth.
It was following such a vehicle that I finally noticed a green light in the Mini’s monster analog speedometer indicating that the “cruise” is turned on. Three-thousand-plus kilometres and only now do I see some visual feedback regarding this feature. That’s the thing about this gauge: it has information, but doesn’t readily share it.
 Cross-Country Cooper, Day five. Click image to enlarge |
But man, a Mini Cooper S in third or fourth gear makes really short work of any passing manoeuvre, even at altitude (turbocharged, don’t forget) and it occurred to me that if it was wearing a two-seat roadster body – front-wheel drive notwithstanding – a Cooper S has the chops to compete in the marketplace as a flat-out sports car. No doubt about it.
After recovering yet another hour by moving into Mountain Time, it was pretty clear that I could easily have made Vancouver from Edmonton. As it was, I had booked into a highly recommended motel of suspiciously low price, and was bound to head there. By this time, Karen had gone completely loopy, insisting that said dive was 16 km ahead when I was parked right in front of it. Clearly Karen has to go, but we’ve been together for many years, and it’s tough… you know?
    Cross-Country Cooper, Day six. Click image to enlarge |
Day 6: Kamloops to Vancouver (356 km)
Full of surprises, this trip. Kamloops, for instance – what a nice place! The views are spectacular, and most homes seem to be located in order to have one. My accommodation turned out okay, even though the clientele was a little, shall we say, colourful.
It’s a hilly community, though, which gives me an opportunity to mention the Mini’s “hill-holder” manual transmission. Such a useful feature when stopped on an incline, preventing the car from rolling back in the split second it takes to move your foot from the brake to the clutch.
   Cross-Country Cooper, Day six. Click image to enlarge |
Although the day began under bright sunshine, I took note of signs on the highway warning that the weather could change quickly at these high altitudes. Even so, this being spring, at first I thought the white objects floating around were blossoms, or some kind of puffy mountain pollen. Who’d have thought, especially after the 2010 Winter Olympics, that snow would be falling here in late May? But there it was… snow, quite heavy at times, and right after I’d washed and detailed the Mini in preparation for its grand entrance.
For some reason I thought that the Rockies were largely behind me, but the highway to Hope, BC, thence to Vancouver offered fabulous mountain views (once the snow stopped) and excellent vistas, although very few places to stop and admire them.
  2010 All-British Field Meet; the author and his Mini tester at the 2010 All-British Field Meet. Click image to enlarge |
Arriving in Vancouver was somewhat anti-climactic, as you connect with Highway 1 at Hope and it’s a multi-lane road all the way there until your motion is slowed abruptly by lane closures, construction, huge traffic volume and narrow bridges.
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Manufacturer’s Website: Photo Galleries: |
The ABFM, the reason for the trip, did not fail to deliver. Leafy trees, flowers, hundreds of cars, a pleasant sunny day with a few grey clouds to add a little drama. I highly recommend it. And indeed the Mini did win the Long Distance Award, travelling 4,557 kilometres via google maps (not including local diversions), and 4,775 km on the odometer.
The Mini seemed quite ready to head back, having suffered only superficial wear on the trip. My understanding is that this car will be retired from the press fleet, and retailed at Mini Yaletown in Vancouver, so some lucky local will end up with the Cross Country Cooper. Check to make sure they left the floor mats in the trunk…
