In the Mountain Greenery……

May 15, 2006

All through Ontario big brightly coloured signs with a caricature of a silly looking moose proclaiming “Moose on the Loose” confronted us. Then there was the more serious “Danger! Moose on Road Next 20km” – lots of those too. This gave us great hope of a moose sighting but sadly the fibreglass moose at the harbour in Sault Ste Marie was the only one we met.Signs in Ontario can’t be trusted. “Rest Area Ahead” and we keep our eyes peeled but it never materializes – I don’t know how many times that happened. Today, there was a sign for a rest area with info centre and sani-dump and it didn’t appear, so we turned around and went out the last exit we passed and there it was.
I trotted into the info centre to ask where the sani-dump was “Oh it was closed in March” I was told. That gave them two months to block out the sign on the highway so that people like us with huge RV’s and tow vehicles don’t have to manoeuvre precariously to get there and then be turned away. Oh – and the rest area…I don’t know where that was – there were parking spots for about a dozen cars and an info centre – that’s it.

We didn’t realize that there was such a large population of French in Ontario – northern Ontario anyway, especially Sudbury – bi-lingual signs and French-speaking folk everywhere

Parry Sound on the Eastern shore of Georgian Bay, Lake Huron, is a seasonal resort area. Being off-season, it was deserted; restaurants were closed and cruise boats were out of service, all waiting for summer when the hordes of Torontonians swarm the small community. We enjoyed it in its quiet way with the townsfolk going about their normal business.......... It's famous for being Bobby Orr's birth Place and I don't know what Don Cherry is doing with a restaurant there
At the top of Tower Hill is an old (1920’s) fire tower – twelve flights of thirteen steps plus six at the bottom (162). ‘Not for the faint of heart’ stated the guidebook. .........
I couldn’t resist the promise of a wonderful panoramic view and started to clamber up the open mesh steel stairs. Caesar’s little paws couldn’t handle the mesh steps so Fernie had the excuse he wanted to stay below. Of course I stopped a couple of times on the way up to catch my breath.

Another town; another Walmart; another great day.

May 16, 2006
We’re only travelling about a hundred miles a day now, so we have lots of time to sightsee when we arrive at our destination. However the one hundred miles today were slow going because we used local roads, which went through the main streets of a multitude of small towns. It was such a picturesque drive – from Parry Sound to Owen Sound. The weather was dismal when we started out, with low clouds and sporadic rain – all very gloomy. However, it seemed to burn off and the sun appeared or maybe we just outran the rain.

The trees are larger – maple, oak, sycamore, elm and birch. The farmhouses are usually Victorian brick structures with gingerbread trim surrounded by lovely trees and shrubs – purple lilac is popular and magnolias and deep pink flowering cherries. Vast glowing fields of yellow buttercups and dandelions sometimes peppered with white daisies delighted my eyes and brought back memories of childhood – making daisy chains for bracelets, necklaces and weaving into our hair and holding buttercups under our chins and if a yellow reflection shone on our neck it meant we liked butter.

We drove through an area called the Blue Mountains – this reminded us of a trip we made to Australia in 2002. We rented a car and meandered through the Australian Blue Mountains, just west of Sydney, New South Wales ending up in the Hunter Valley wine district. When we left Australia, we said we’d go back when we were retired so we could spend a month or six weeks there. So it’s decided that we’ll return to Australia next year – 2007; can’t do it this year because we’ve already booked a month in South Africa for October.

Back to Ontario and the Blue Mountain area: Apple orchards with trees in full blossom lined the roads; farms with cattle chewing on the cud; sheep dotting the hillsides; poultry farms with ‘fresh eggs for sale’; bee-keepers with ‘organic honey for sale’; equestrian centres with magnificent houses and barns – obviously moneyed.

I previously visited Owen Sound in 1970. It is known as ‘Beautiful Valley’ to the Ojibway. I remembered it was a lovely area but couldn’t remember details. It is a glorious region with a lot of history. I could imagine living there but for two reasons – winter……..and summer.

Down a quiet rural road a little church built in 1865 fronted a wooded sun-dappled ancient cemetery. Tom Thompson one of the Group of Seven artists is buried there – he was born and died near Owen Sound. Harrison Park, a wooded ravine near the centre of town has a memorial to the black slaves who sought freedom from slavery by coming north to Canada. Many of them settled in Owen Sound – the terminus of the ‘Underground Railway’. A World War I flying ace, Billy Bishop also called the region home and he is remembered with a museum and the district airport uses his name.

The region is riddled with hiking trails and we chose one that snaked up to Inglis Falls -about 5km round trip. It wound through deciduous forest with sparse undergrowth but with enough sun to allow wildflowers to bloom. Most lovely were the carpets of trillium from pale white to deep pink. Limestone cliffs lined the river valley and the remains of an old mill that once used the power of the falls for its operations now houses a parks info centre. We obviously took the wrong trail; we noticed that it was not well-used but carried on an ended up at the bottom of the falls, just around the corner. When we retraced our steps, we found that we could drive up to the top of the falls.

We had two separate visitors while we were parked at the side of the Walmart next to a well-manicured grassy spot, planted with new trees. Both were men; both wanted to admire Maggie and chat. They were interested in how our systems work, what we thought about having a satellite dish and how we liked our generator, etc. It took me aback when the second visitor thumped on our open door and he opened the conversation with “So, how do you like your satellite dish?”.