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Let’s go to the hop

The scent of flame-broiling meat hits us from a block away.

“Mmmm, I smell barbecue,” I say to my copilot for a day of exploring on Alberta’s Cowboy Trail.

“It’s coming from up ahead,” he says, pointing in the direction of the smoke flooding out of one of the old Western-style facades on Centre Avenue in Black Diamond.

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Go for the ice cream, stay for the pie

Whether rebuilt or original facades, one only has to let her mind drift to a simpler, dustier day.

Horses may have been tied to that post or drank from that barrel.

The swish in the gravel may  have been caused by a hoop skirt, a gal’s delicate parasol victimized by the wind.

The plumes may have risen from the wafting of cigar smoke as that fellow twirled his freshly waxed mustache.

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