It was a glorious beginning. Smartly drssed troopers on finely groomed horses, marching bravely westward. A thin red line across a landscape too big to care.

In 1874, Canada's North-West Mounted Police donned their famous red coats and marched into history. How could they know their journey would take on the epic proportions of the land itself.

The Red Coat Destination Region (above) commemorates the N.W.M. P. and their famous march. It stretches from Manitoba's Red River through Saskatchewan to the foothills of Alberta. It's a journey through badlands, grasslands, river valleys, spring-fed lakes, pine forests, and rising hills. We will be following it in the reverse direction, from west to east.

When he could no longer ignore reports of lawlessness in the west, Sir John A. Macdonald (Canada's first prime minister) created the North-West Mounted Police and sent them west under the command of former British Officer and now the NWMP first Commissioner, George French on July 8, 1874. His orders; Shut down the whiskey trade, establish friendly relations with the Indians, and entrench Canadian law over a 300,00 square mile territory. To accomplish this awesome task he was assigned 300 men. Not an army but a constabulary - the Thin Red Line.

Their first order of business, shut down Fort Whoop-up, a notorious trading post at the junction of the Oldman and St. Mary rivers in what is now Alberta. But first they had to get there.

They were an impressive company as they formed up on the Fort Dufferin parade grounds that day, outfitted in their scarlet jackets, whitecork helments, white gauntlets, black riding boots, gray breeches, and Snider-Enfield carbines. French gave the order and the column began to move out. "A" Division on dark bay horses, "B" Division on dark browns, "C: on chestnuts, "D" on grays, "E" on blacks, "F" on light bays.

Behind them came a mile-and-a-half long supply column: 114 red river carts, 73 freight wagons, 93 head of cattle, two 9-pounder field guns, two brass morters, and more. They were ready for anything ... except perhaps the real west.

Roche Percée: Day 16 of the march and they were already in trouble. 270 miles from Fort Dufferin and the siun, heat, dust and insects had been merciless. Water was scarce. Food rations were low. Men were sick with dysentery. Horses and cattle were dying. A plague of locusts added insult to injury.

Commissioner French ordered his weary troops to stop at Roche Percée for a few days rest. Here "A" division split off and headed north. The remainder of the company continued west. Every day was a new struggle. At one point, the men had to push their heavy field guns up a 26-mile long slope. That's when they learned that on the prairie even 'flat' was an illusion.

September, 1874. The junction of the Bow & Belly (Oldman) rivers, 780 miles out of Fort Dufferin. No sign of Fort Whoop-up. Commissioner French makes an emergency detour south to Fort Benton, Montana to get provisions and directions. He returns with Jerry Potts, a Métis scout, and one of hte few good things t happen to the Mouties on this trek.

Métis were people of mixed Indian and white heritage who were born to the west. A good Métis scout was a skilled plainsman, interpreter and guide. He understood the naunecs of the land and the hardwhips it imposed on travellers. He found suitable campsites, drinkable water and forage for the horses. By example han dinstruction, he helped turn gereenhorn adventurers into expeerienced plainsmen.

Jerry, known to the Blackfoot as Ky-yo-kosi, or Bear Child, was of Plood Indian and Scots parentage. A peerless guide and skilled plainsman, he directs the Mounties to Fort Whoop-up, and then on to a winter camp where they build Fort Macleod. Potts remained a Mountie ally for 22 years. Because he was given the rank of special constable he was buried at Fort Maclead with full military honours in 1896.

October 9: 28 days after the Mounties thought they had found Fort Whoop-up, they really did! The trek had taken 94 days, but at least now they could finally get to the job at hand - ending the liquor trade by closing down Fort Whoop-up. The Mounties arrayed thier guns, took their positions and waited. Nothing happened.

Finally, Assistant Commissioner Maclead and Jerry Pots rode up to the fort. They knocked. An employee named Dave Akers answered and asked thm in for lunch. It soon became clear that the whisky traders had already abandoned the post. After their grueling 900 mile march, the Mounties realized there would be no fight for right that day.