As we traversed the country north of Lake Superior, we passed the turn-off to the small, northern city of Elliot Lake; it has been in the news lately because part of a shopping mall recently collapsed, killing two women.
I was reminded that unfortunate events are not unknown to the residents of this mining town just off Highway 17 between Sudbury and Sault Ste. Marie. When the uranium mine closed in the 1990's, more than one third of the population moved away and the town was in crisis. But those Northerners are resilient. They devised a brilliant survival strategy that has since been adopted by other single industry towns under threat. Elliot Bay marketed itself as a retirement community. Cheap housing was the primary drawing card along with the wealth of
outdoor leisure opportunities. The plan succeeded, and rebranded Elliot Bay is a viable city once more.
Still, this northern retirement town is not on the list of 10 Top Places to Retire in Canada. Perhaps it is too isolated. Maybe the winters are too severe. Who knows? In any case, this list seems arbitrary enough to include just about any city or town you could name, so it might as well have Elliot Lake. Canada's largest and most expensive cities are there. Calgary, Vancouver and Toronto are apparently perfect places to retire. The list makers especially love Toronto because it supports many sports franchises! The same logic would have retired Brits flocking to London so they could watch tennis, or Americans heading to New York for a choice of two baseball teams. Are these guys serious?
The retirees I know don't move to Toronto, they move away. They tell me that for all its attributes,TO is too big and congested. These retired folk are tired of commuting. They want small, affordable and convenient. If they need to access the glories of the big city, they move to nearby towns and enjoy the best of both worlds. They might in fact, choose Stratford or Owen Sound, the two most sensible choices on the 10 Top Places List.
In truth, the best thing about this ideosyncratic list is that my hometown Guelph did not make the cut. This well situated city near Toronto is, to my way of thinking, perfect, but I don't really want everyone know. It is now an ideal size and I would be happy to have it stay that way.
Thinking of moving? Check that list again and look pay special attention to hockey and basketball teams. That's (apparently) what retirees want most. You wouldn't like Guelph. Their hockey team sucks.
Wednesday 29 August 2012
Friday 24 August 2012
#4: Going the Extra (Northern) Mile
If we felt very far away from the rest of Canada as we travelled across Northern Ontario, I can only imagine what it must be like to live there.
Not that the region is well-populated. In 2000 kilometres, travellers encounter only 3 larger centres (Sault Ste Marie, Sudbury and Thunder Bay, each several hours from one another), a few small towns and some widely scattered, tiny communities. Road trippers grab their coffee where they can and fill the gas tank every chance they get, because they never know when there will be another opportunity. (On our second day, desperate for a lunch spot, we finally found a place to eat in Terrace Bay. Then I discovered my wallet was missing. Grrrrrrr! Oh no! I had last used it in Wawa. The horribleness of retracing 258 km and then driving the four hours back was almost more than I could bear. When we called Tim Horton's and discovered that the wallet was not there, it almost a relief.)
But isolation and long distances do not seem to bother northern residents at all. They are used to these extremes, they learn to adapt, and are rewarded with fabulous scenery and the potential to enjoy every manner of outdoor activity throughout four distinct seasons. More than one kid from Southern Ontario has gone to Lakehead University in Thunder Bay, and stayed on to work up North because they have learned to love the area and its outdoor lifestyle.
The economy of Northern Ontario is primarily resource based, and this was very obvious as we drove along the highway, following logging trucks, sniffing the sour smell of pulp mills, and noting all the gold mines. Right now, gold is king in Northern Ontario. But don't imagine a workforce of unskilled labourers. In Dryden at the end of the-day-Nancy-lost-her-wallet, we ate in a Greek/Thai/Indian restaurant (Masala) and I overheard the four young people at the table next to us. They were all discussing their university experiences (one guy seemed to have just defended his thesis), and they all clearly adored living and working north of Highway 17 in Red Lake. If only I could have leaped up to ask a few questions. Are you at the gold mine? Are you engineers? Environment scientists? But I held my tongue. One thing I knew -- whatever took them there, they didn't seem to mind driving four hours for their night out in Dryden.
And my missing wallet? The mystery was solved when we checked the messages on our home phone that evening from our Dryden motel room. It had apparently jumped from my purse while we were standing in a restaurant (not even one where we ate) in Terrace Bay, and was found by someone who gave it to the folks in the business office. Marlene M.of The Imperial Motel/Drifter's Restaurant was the lady who left the cheerful message for Bruce and Nancy to say that "your wallet was found, intact, and not to worry!". She must have resorted to the internet to find my phone number back in Guelph. I never did get to talk to Marlene, but another woman in the same office knew all about the wallet, and was glad to mail it on to Edmonton where I picked it up today.
Bless those Northerners. They seem willing to go the extra mile in all things.
.
Not that the region is well-populated. In 2000 kilometres, travellers encounter only 3 larger centres (Sault Ste Marie, Sudbury and Thunder Bay, each several hours from one another), a few small towns and some widely scattered, tiny communities. Road trippers grab their coffee where they can and fill the gas tank every chance they get, because they never know when there will be another opportunity. (On our second day, desperate for a lunch spot, we finally found a place to eat in Terrace Bay. Then I discovered my wallet was missing. Grrrrrrr! Oh no! I had last used it in Wawa. The horribleness of retracing 258 km and then driving the four hours back was almost more than I could bear. When we called Tim Horton's and discovered that the wallet was not there, it almost a relief.)
But isolation and long distances do not seem to bother northern residents at all. They are used to these extremes, they learn to adapt, and are rewarded with fabulous scenery and the potential to enjoy every manner of outdoor activity throughout four distinct seasons. More than one kid from Southern Ontario has gone to Lakehead University in Thunder Bay, and stayed on to work up North because they have learned to love the area and its outdoor lifestyle.
The economy of Northern Ontario is primarily resource based, and this was very obvious as we drove along the highway, following logging trucks, sniffing the sour smell of pulp mills, and noting all the gold mines. Right now, gold is king in Northern Ontario. But don't imagine a workforce of unskilled labourers. In Dryden at the end of the-day-Nancy-lost-her-wallet, we ate in a Greek/Thai/Indian restaurant (Masala) and I overheard the four young people at the table next to us. They were all discussing their university experiences (one guy seemed to have just defended his thesis), and they all clearly adored living and working north of Highway 17 in Red Lake. If only I could have leaped up to ask a few questions. Are you at the gold mine? Are you engineers? Environment scientists? But I held my tongue. One thing I knew -- whatever took them there, they didn't seem to mind driving four hours for their night out in Dryden.
And my missing wallet? The mystery was solved when we checked the messages on our home phone that evening from our Dryden motel room. It had apparently jumped from my purse while we were standing in a restaurant (not even one where we ate) in Terrace Bay, and was found by someone who gave it to the folks in the business office. Marlene M.of The Imperial Motel/Drifter's Restaurant was the lady who left the cheerful message for Bruce and Nancy to say that "your wallet was found, intact, and not to worry!". She must have resorted to the internet to find my phone number back in Guelph. I never did get to talk to Marlene, but another woman in the same office knew all about the wallet, and was glad to mail it on to Edmonton where I picked it up today.
Bless those Northerners. They seem willing to go the extra mile in all things.
.
Tuesday 21 August 2012
#3: 1, 2, 3 Inuksuks...
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| Highway 17 inuksuk....an 18 inch high, little stone person |
When I am the passenger, I peer hopefully out the window on the lookout for wildlife. Bears are my preferred sighting. Surely a black bear or two will wander down to the highway to wave at the tourists?
Moose would also be acceptable. Every single kilometer boasts a warning sign that moose are in the vicinity, so there must be a lot of them somewhere. If they were out and about, they would be standing in one of the many reedy marshes that fringe the road. But the moose must be playing hide and seek with the bears because for 2,000 km, we see neither.
What we do see in abundance, decorating every rocky ridge along the road, are inuksuks. These rock-pile sculptures are everywhere -- on every granite ledge from Parry Sound (where the rocks and trees begin) to Kenora (where they almost finish). There must be well over 1,000 little inuksuks, and each is unique.
Once associated only with Inuit hunters who left these rocky milestones as a message to other travellers, now they are a universal symbol of Canada's northern culture. Canadians abroad will build them on hiking trails to proclaim "Hello from the Great White North". I have done this myself, and having had inuksuk-building experience, I can honestly say that you cannot just throw one together. It takes time to find proper balancing rocks so that the finished product is stable, and looks vaguely human.
All this leads to questions one cannot help but ask about the Trans Canada inuksuks. Who created them? One person or many? How is it that such small rock-piles have stayed intact from season to season? And why do we never see anyone perched up there above the road, working on the latest addition to this 2,000 km. long exhibit?
I Googled these inuksuk questions and discovered very little. A few people acknowledge building a couple of them, but what about the other 1, 000? I am left to make up my own answers.
Perhaps there is a hobbyist or several (retired guys, probably), in a garage somewhere near a rockpile, and every day they make a couple, epoxy the stones together, and drive them to a granite ledge that needs a bit of embellishment.
Do you have a better explanation for the mystery of the roadside inushuks?
 |
| Even the service station at Vermilion Bay has built itself a really huge inuksuk. |
Sunday 19 August 2012
#2: Rocks and Trees
Yeah! I am finally sitting in Jenny's little house in Saskatoon after a lot of driving and a lovely one day layover in Dauphin, Manitoba.
But first--before Manitoba and Saskatchewan--we had to get out of Ontario.
The challenge is to get from Guelph (in the south, near Lakes Erie and Ontario) up and around a couple of other Great Lakes, Huron and Superior. Even though it doesn't look that far, this stretch of road is 2,000 kms--two loooooong days of driving-- and when you reach Kenora, the last sizable town before you get to the Manitoba border, you still aren't out of the woods. Really.
This very long stretch of the Trans-Canada Highway is known for it distinctive landscape of rocks, trees, more rocks and trees, and glimpses of sparkling water. With pink/grey granite rising on either side, along with a mix of evergreens and deciduous trees, the road seems to pass through mountains that mysteriously lack elevation. (These rocks belong to the Canadian Shield, a very old geological formation that covers half the country from Quebec to Manitoba.)
The scenery is so iconic that it even rates its own song -- Wendall Ferguson's homage to this northern highway, Rocks and Trees
The ideal trip around the northern Great Lakes should involve some sort of outdoor activity--boating, hiking, and fishing are all popular in the summer. There are very few stores of any variety, but even if you can't find a restaurant or a cup of coffee for miles and miles, you can always buy bait or tackle.
The best campgrounds in Ontario are along this route and we have stayed in every one over the years. As we passed Kakabeka Falls, and Rushing River Provincial parks we recalled these as favorite locations when we went camping with the kids. But this time we were not pulling a tent trailer. We were staying in motels where piles of rags in the bathrooms are identified with special notes that advise: If you are cleaning hockey equipment or snowmobile gear please use the cloths provided, and keep our towels clean! I half expected another more seasonal message: Clean your fish outside!
But first--before Manitoba and Saskatchewan--we had to get out of Ontario.
The challenge is to get from Guelph (in the south, near Lakes Erie and Ontario) up and around a couple of other Great Lakes, Huron and Superior. Even though it doesn't look that far, this stretch of road is 2,000 kms--two loooooong days of driving-- and when you reach Kenora, the last sizable town before you get to the Manitoba border, you still aren't out of the woods. Really.
This very long stretch of the Trans-Canada Highway is known for it distinctive landscape of rocks, trees, more rocks and trees, and glimpses of sparkling water. With pink/grey granite rising on either side, along with a mix of evergreens and deciduous trees, the road seems to pass through mountains that mysteriously lack elevation. (These rocks belong to the Canadian Shield, a very old geological formation that covers half the country from Quebec to Manitoba.)
The scenery is so iconic that it even rates its own song -- Wendall Ferguson's homage to this northern highway, Rocks and Trees
| Rocks and trees...... |
The best campgrounds in Ontario are along this route and we have stayed in every one over the years. As we passed Kakabeka Falls, and Rushing River Provincial parks we recalled these as favorite locations when we went camping with the kids. But this time we were not pulling a tent trailer. We were staying in motels where piles of rags in the bathrooms are identified with special notes that advise: If you are cleaning hockey equipment or snowmobile gear please use the cloths provided, and keep our towels clean! I half expected another more seasonal message: Clean your fish outside!
#1: Packing? Get Cracking!
I am supposed to be packing for this trip.
But first I need to find a blanket that I promised my daughter in Saskatoon. When I finally locate it in one of several identical plastic containers in the basement, I discover that it needs mending. Must fix that! Must do it now.
By the time I've put my needle away I realize that the blanket search has torn the basement apart. I re-stack the boxes and see that they are filled with an assortment of completely useless bits and pieces that I must have thought important at one time or other. I am filled with a twitchy need to sort, stack and allocate. I catch myself taking old paperbacks to the recycling bin. Wait a minute.....
Better see what I can use up in the refrigerator. I start throwing out soups and sauces that will not survive abandonment. I can't stand the grimy shelves and soon I am wiping them down. "How's the packing going?" yells Bruce from upstairs. He, in truth, is not much more focused than I am. He has just come back from a trip to the computer shop on the corner where he has been investigating laptops.
I recognize this behaviour. It is the same impulse that drives students to clean their dorm rooms the day before the chemistry exam. For some reason we have become packing procrastinators. What is going on? I can't imagine Columbus tidying the contents of his map chest hours before setting off for Hispaniola. I'll bet Amelia Earhart wasn't cleaning her ice box before heading to the airport.
Perhaps packing for a car trip seems too pedestrian?
That could very well be, but nevertheless, I had better get started. (I hear my mother's voice admonishing: "If you don't get a wiggle on, you'll still be doing that at midnight!")
All right! All right. I'll do it.
But first I need to find a blanket that I promised my daughter in Saskatoon. When I finally locate it in one of several identical plastic containers in the basement, I discover that it needs mending. Must fix that! Must do it now.
By the time I've put my needle away I realize that the blanket search has torn the basement apart. I re-stack the boxes and see that they are filled with an assortment of completely useless bits and pieces that I must have thought important at one time or other. I am filled with a twitchy need to sort, stack and allocate. I catch myself taking old paperbacks to the recycling bin. Wait a minute.....
Better see what I can use up in the refrigerator. I start throwing out soups and sauces that will not survive abandonment. I can't stand the grimy shelves and soon I am wiping them down. "How's the packing going?" yells Bruce from upstairs. He, in truth, is not much more focused than I am. He has just come back from a trip to the computer shop on the corner where he has been investigating laptops.
I recognize this behaviour. It is the same impulse that drives students to clean their dorm rooms the day before the chemistry exam. For some reason we have become packing procrastinators. What is going on? I can't imagine Columbus tidying the contents of his map chest hours before setting off for Hispaniola. I'll bet Amelia Earhart wasn't cleaning her ice box before heading to the airport.
Perhaps packing for a car trip seems too pedestrian?
That could very well be, but nevertheless, I had better get started. (I hear my mother's voice admonishing: "If you don't get a wiggle on, you'll still be doing that at midnight!")
All right! All right. I'll do it.
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