My daughter and I are staying the night in Room No. 8 at the Sweet Dreams Motel in Broadview, Saskatchewan. It’s nearly midnight, and we’ve been driving since 11 this morning, Ontario Time, which was really 9 in the morning Saskatchewan Time. What starts as a warm sunny day turns into an evil driving rain by dusk on the Prairies. A stone hits the windshield, leaving small slices veering in three different directions directly in front of my daughter’s eyes. A silver slick highway reflects the tail lights of a thousand transports, which kick up veils of mist, making me blink and swerve uneasily until we turn off the road towards the “Motel 24 hours” sign.