I stayed in a one street wonder of a prairie town where a wheat silo dominated the edge of the village. I wanted to be close to Castle Butte but this time I was a little more prepared for signless Saskatchewan.
Fortunately, the brochure was explicit about the distance from highway 34 so I watched the kilometre dial. After the distance was up and the only dirt road had been passed with no other in sight, I turned back to discover, once again, I was on the right road with no turn off sign.
Here was Saskatchewan’s lonely hill, dry and rivetted, surrounded by grassland. As I got out of the car to explore the hill, another car pulled up coming from the opposite direction to confirm that there was no signage from the direction they’d come from either.