Sep 12,2025
Funny thing about road trips, no matter how much the world changes, they never go out of style. You can have all the fancy flights and five-star stays you want, but there’s something about packing up the car, hitting the open highway, and not knowing exactly where you’ll land that feels freeing. That’s the moment every traveler knows when the road quiets down, and rest finally sounds better than the next mile. Here in Manitoba, that connection between road trips and motels has always been part of the story.
If you’ve ever driven across Manitoba, you know how the road stretches forever. Fields, sky, a few old barns in the distance, maybe a deer on the shoulder if you’re up early. There’s a kind of peace in that space, the kind that makes you roll the window down just to breathe it in. But even the best road days have to end somewhere. That’s where the motel comes in. Simple, steady, waiting by the highway with a couple of cars out front and that familiar flicker of a neon light.
Our motel sits right off the main road, close enough to catch the travelers but far enough that you can still hear the crickets at night. We see a bit of everyone, folks hauling trailers, couples chasing the northern lights, families heading west, and the regulars who stop in twice a year, just because they like the drive. Manitoba has this rhythm that keeps people moving, lakes, forests, prairie roads that go quiet after sundown. You can drive for hours and still feel like there’s more to see. Motels, the good ones, are like bookmarks along the way. You stay for a night, rest, and then keep the story going.
It’s not just nostalgia. There’s something real about motels that travelers still want. You can park right by your door. You don’t have to drag your bags through a lobby. The check-in is simple, sometimes with a smile and a “Where you heading?” The price is fair. No surprises, no resort fees, no nonsense. The best part, you meet real people. There’s a kind of honesty in that. No polished front desk speeches, no waiting in line to swipe a card that’s already on file. Just you, the room key, and a bed that’s clean and soft after a long drive.
When people check out in the morning, we hear all kinds of stories. A family heading to visit grandparents out west. Two friends driving across Canada “just because.” A couple who stopped here twenty years ago and wanted to see if it was still around. It’s funny, they don’t talk about the miles or the weather. They remember the feeling. The quiet night, the sound of the train in the distance, the coffee that tasted better because it came after twelve hours behind the wheel. That’s what makes motels different. We’re not just a place to crash. We’re part of the trip itself.
