Author: Andrena Teed

A busy couple of days in Winnipeg, visiting relatives living and not, and then we were on the road again. We are driving against a deadline, which means less time dawdling and being tourists than otherwise would be the case. However, despite the deadline, we have a plan to pause to visit family and friends en route. Plus, a few tourist activities from time to time.

We have re-ascertained that we dislike cities, generally. It seems that cities are all similar – busy roads, many vehicles, noise and lights. This road scene in Winnipeg could be any city in Canada.

The countryside, on the other hand tends to be where the distinctive landscapes of Canada come to the fore. It’s where we have seen and experienced the Canadian Shield up close. It was now time for the iconic Prairie Provinces. We started this theme in Manitoba, and with much of Manitoba to cover before Saskatchewan, we watched the Prairie landscape unfold before our eyes.

The Prairies are scathingly described as flat and boring. Not at all. There is terrain – acres of undulating fields,

mogul-like hills pop up regularly,

there are rivers, valleys, lakes, and escarpments.

Through all of it, at least in the summer, swathes of bright greens, yellow, and gold reveal the crops growing in the fields.

Main crops in the Prairies are wheat (for which the region once was nicknamed the “Breadbasket of the World”), maize, chickpeas, lentils, and canola (a Canadian hybrid grain invention). Basically, with those thousands of acres of grains, Canada justifiably is a recognised global grain grower.

The area is a vast grassland, a geographic plain. The flat grassland continues for kilometres, unbroken except by the occasional grove of trees and array of farm building in the distance. It gave us a far horizon, and a huge, upturned bowl of blue sky.

It was far from dull. Plenty of colour saturated the landscape. Vehicles kicked up dust as they sped along farm roads.

There was, of course, a variety of pick-up trucks on the road, this being farm land where half-ton pick-ups are required vehicles. Those were for the farmers’ general transportation. The grains and the farm supplies and equipment, all move in much larger tractor-trailer trucks (aka articulated lorries in some countries). We encountered a variety of these huge trucks on the road. They also kick up dust on the gravel and dirt roads and truck stops.

Many of the tractors (or cabs) pulled double trailers, which were huge vehicles, both in length and in height. Some of these were open trailers.

Some were closed containers. It didn’t matter what their configuration, they were massive. They were between 4-5 metres high, and each trailer was about 15 metres or a bit more in length.

If they weren’t double-trailer transport trucks, they were exceptionally long flatbed trailers carrying enormous cargoes, like five rolls of coiled plastic piping. When they were passing, they just went on forever. And passing them took ages as well. We were grateful for the dual-lane divided highway.

Moving all the grain from farm to storage silos to the market or the export-ports (Thunder Bay or Vancouver) requires even more robust infrastructure. The railway line, which joined our country from the Atlantic to the Pacific in 1885, has played a crucial role in the development of western Canada.

The transcontinental railway was one reason why the western provinces joined Confederation. It meant European settlers could easily get themselves west, where there were farming opportunities. It also meant that the products grown and manufactured in the land-locked middle of Canada could easily get to markets in the east or overseas.

When the two main modes of transportation are juxtaposed, it is understandable why the railway remains important. A kilometre-long train can carry an abundance of grain, and other agricultural products. A double-trailer truck can get to locations away from the train tracks, for example it can carry grain from the farm to the grain elevator.

The classic grain elevator beside the railway is an iconic Canadian image. Considered by some to be relics, they remain in active use in many towns in the Prairies.

Many times, it seems that larger, metal elevators have superseded the older models. Likely with these new variants, it is more easy to control the internal humidity and to keep the pests and vermin at bay.

The elevators, the trains, and the trucks all support the agricultural industry in the Prairies. There is more to agriculture than the grain. Several times, from the highway, we spotted farm equipment for sale in huge yards.

Sometimes we saw farmers using the equipment in fields, or mowing the road verge. Apparently the farmer can mow the verge, and can keep the hay. This is a marvellous idea – the province gets a mowed and clear road verge, and the farmer gets acres more of hay for the price of the diesel to mow it. Win-win.

We saw hay bales from the mowing beside the road. We also saw large straw buildings made of square bales stacked like lego blocks into a square shape. Sometimes there were several straw cuboids close together.

Hay is needed for the other side of Saskatchewan agriculture. Cattle need plenty of hay for fodder during the long, cold winter months in this province. They cannot eat outside, so the farmers must ensure a sufficient supply to keep the animals fed and ready for market.

That being said, grain dominates the farming. It is so important to the Saskatchewan economy that it is featured on the provincial flag.

The gold lower portion of the flag represents the grain fields. Three sheaves of wheat are displayed on the coat of arms, emphasising the importance of that grain to the province’s agriculture. The green on the flag represents the forest in the northern part of the province, however, I found reflections of the flag in the complementary fields of green and gold or green and cream all across the province.

When a road separated the fields, it seemed even more the epitome of Saskatchewan – hectares of fields of grain, straight lines to a far horizon, a flat expanse of landscape capped with a wide blue sky. Everything to appreciate and enjoy about Canada’s rectangular-cut gem.

Elmwood Cemetery, along the Red River, is one of Winnipeg’s oldest and largest cemeteries. It is a non-denominational cemetery. Included in the cemetery is a small section historically designated for military graves. This is marked with a Royal Canadian Legion flag.

We visited Elmwood Cemetery to pay respects to my maternal grandfather who is buried in the military section. He served in the Canadian Expeditionary Forces during World War I, serving with the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry (PPCLI). He remained in active service with the PPCLI after the war, stationed in Ottawa, Toronto and Winnipeg. He died in Winnipeg in 1922.

Grandfather Ager, a Warrant Officer 2, is in good company, lying beside a Lieutenant Colonel, and a decorated Staff Sergeant. The fourth grave here is a Captain. All distinguished soldiers in this group. The simple granite slab headstones are used for military graves which have no permanent marker. My grandfather had a ground marker many years ago, but that was replaced with the slab marker more than a decade ago. This was an initiative of the Last Post Fund which, although not part of Veterans Affairs, administers the Funeral and Burial Program for that government department.

Elmwood Cemetery is a beautiful park-like setting. Mature trees, mainly oak, create shade for the visitors. The Red River flowing adjacent to the cemetery adds an eternal dimension to the location. Although I was there with specific purpose, a walk around this cemetery was a peaceful interlude in our busy trip west. It was quiet and restful in Elmwood. I can understand how, in the Victorian and Edwardian eras, it was popular to take a picnic to the cemetery and enjoy the ambience while visiting the relatives who had moved to another realm.

Manitoba. It was a mini-visit. The province is large, but most of its area is north-south. We were traversing the shorter, east-west portion of the province.

Our drive started out with the, now expected, trees and rocks.

Very quickly it became a divided highway (dual carriageway is the term used in some countries). This was a pleasure after several days of seemingly narrow, single-lane in each direction roads. A divided highway is much more relaxing to drive and to navigate.

Even the road verge widened to provide a glimpse of the extensive spaces we were hoping to find in the Prairies.

We planned a couple of stops to our campground north-east of Winnipeg.

Our friends in Marathon had highly recommended a small restaurant in Hadashville. They said it looked rather nondescript, but we were not to be fooled. The food was excellent by their reckoning. The eclectic menu is a micro-snapshot of Canadian cuisine. Sophie’s restaurant and deli serves Ukrainian and Indian dishes. I had a Punjabi omelette. It also serves Mexican-style dishes. Nigel had a burrito breakfast. A customer can order standard fare such as burgers, pizza, poutine, and chow mein. That certainly covers a cross-section of Canadian culture. We purchased samosas for a meal later in the day.

The main tourist attraction on the Manitoba list was a stop at the longitudinal centre of Canada. A geographer and a surveyor like this sort of marker. We are always measuring the earth’s surface, or examining maps which requires the application of latitude and longitude.

The mid-point of Canada is at 96 degrees 48 minutes 35 seconds West of the Prime Meridian (zero degrees, in Greenwich, England).

This is the half-way spot between the most easterly point (Cape Spear, Newfoundland – 52 degrees 37 minutes W) and most westerly point (Boundary Peak 187 on the Yukon/Alaska border – 141 degrees 0 minutes 7.128 seconds W) in Canada.

There are official markers on the side of Highway 1, which is the Trans-Canada Highway through Manitoba.

The longitudinal centre of Canada is also marked with an extremely large billboard. We, of course, had to pose for the requisite tourist selfie in front of the billboard.

We insisted that OrangePekoe also post. She was a tad less willing, but acquiesced.

Granville was somewhat disinterested in the importance of the site. She, too, acquiesced to our photo shenanigans.

There is more to Manitoba than multi-cultural restaurants and significant sites. There is a reason why the Prairies are often portrayed with stereotypes. Once considered a “breadbasket of the world”, Canada remains a major contributor to global food security with respect to wheat and pulses. Our role as a main contributor to grain production was evident in the kilometres of wheat fields we passed on our drive through Manitoba.

There were many, many railway sidings with classic grain elevators butted up near the tracks. This is like a picture from an old geography book detailing the economy of the Prairie provinces when agriculture provided most of the exports.

Of course there were houses standing, seemingly isolated, in the fields. Sometimes there were small grain silos nearby. Sometimes not. The houses varied in size, perhaps a reflection of the wealth of the farm. This small house seemed typical of what might have been a scene from a half-century or more ago. It’s a reflection of our collective Canadian history, and the role farmers played in settling the Prairie provinces.

Our destination was Bird’s Hill Provincial Campground, northeast of Winnipeg. This large park was originally farmland, expropriated from about 150 landowners to create the park. It is named for the Curtis Bird, the first speaker of the Manitoba legislature in 1873, and whose family settled along the Red River in the early 1800s.

It is a very large park – about 35 square kilometres. Within the park there are trails, none of which are extremely difficult so most people can use them with ease. There are designated mobility-accessible trails so persons with mobility differences can enjoy a day in nature as well. We used the regular trails, which meant taking Granville for a long walk was a pleasure for all of us. The trails wended around the campsites of the park.

Our campsite – tree pod – was marvellous. It had a half dozen campsites laid around a circular driveway.

Initially we though it might be congested. It was not. Each campsite was down a slight embankment, surrounded by trees and shrubs, and very private. We didn’t see any other campers in any of the pods. It was, we reckon, the best design possible for effective use of space that ensured easy distribution of the trailer services, and also provided privacy for the campers. We can only speak highly of this campsite design.

We had purchased samosas at Sophie’s restaurant in Hadashville. We made our own multi-cultural meal – beans and rice, samosas, fried onions, some crisps, and Canadian beer for Nigel. Very tasty, and rather fun for a camp-site meal.

It was a long day, filled with interesting sights, and quiet pleasures. The area was under an air-quality alert because the prevailing winds were carrying smoke from the wildfires west of us. Those smoky-hazy skies coupled with the long summer nights of the northern latitudes gave us lingering, gentle sunsets. Manitoba, on this visit, was much like the sunsets – lingering gently in our thoughts long after we travelled on.

Campsite # 14 Bird’s Hill Campground, Winnipeg, MB

Bird’s Hill Campground, our favourite so far. There is a unique design here, with six campsites set around a centre ring. The vehicles stay parked along the edges of the ring, beside the campsite entrance. The campsite is a delightfully spacious and private enclave. We pitched our bug-tent because, well because there were bugs. Not as atrocious as elsewhere, but it felt comfortable in that space. Granville and OrangePekoe had space to move around (yes, tethered, but on long leashes) without being perturbed by others.

Bird’s Hill has many amenities – a lake for swimming, many trails, a tuck-shop, and a first class restaurant. All within walking distance of our campsite. It was a fine campground, from our perspective because we could relax and recharge our batteries here.

Campsite # 15 Chez Pienke, near Lipton, SK

A friend from Botswana days is working on a farm in Saskatchewan. We parked in his yard. OrangePekoe stayed in the trailer, which we think suited her to a ‘t’. Granville was permitted to sleep inside, so she was in the lap of luxury

Chris’s home is surrounded by grain fields. He has an acre or so of mowed grass around the house, which was plenty of room for Granville to roam. Us, too, actually. We stretched our legs here. Mostly we stretched our thoughts with conversations about what we three were doing now-a-days, “when-we” talk of Botswana (as one does), and our various plans for our futures. Good conversation. Couple with a southern African braai, which we thoroughly enjoyed.

Campsite # 16 Tillebrook Provincial Park, Brooks, AB

A little bit of a surprise. I booked Tillebrook for one night, a pause in the dash to get west by self and externally appointed deadlines. After a long day of driving we found Tillebrook, tucked against the highway, about half-way across Alberta along the Trans-Canada Highway. Tucked away is exactly how it felt to us. This was a small, green oasis, a well-appointed campground with fairly generous sites. We were close to neighbouring sites, but somehow it felt more spacious. Opposite our campsite there was a large green space where we could walk undisturbed towards the trails that circled the campground.

Unfortunately we only had one night here; had I realised it’s attractiveness I would have booked a second night. We both also misjudged the recovery time necessary after a long drive. One night is not enough. A couple of lessons learned from Tillebrook.

Campsite # 17 Canyon Hot Springs Resort, Revelstoke, BC

Canyon Hot Springs was a welcome relief after a second day with a long drive. It is well marked, and easily accessible from the Trans-Canada Highway, with an access road directly off the highway. It was a busy place, with short and long term campers, and people coming only for the warm water swimming pool. This pool is apparently fed by hot springs, but it looked too much like a regular swimming pool, which tweaked our credibility. While we were not impressed with the hot spring pool, we did find the campsite was just right. We were tucked into a corner, surrounded on two sides by woods. In a commercial campground, where trailers are parked cheek by jowl, this was a huge bonus.

And in the greater spaces of the campground, we found a couple of trails, and a rapidly flowing, icy-water river. Plenty to interest us. And for me, a bit of nostalgia because the train track through the Rockies was just there, with the regular clackety-clack of trains all day and all night long. No, it did not trouble me; it was a sound from my childhood, when we lived near the train tracks. All that, plus surrounded by mountains. A lovely location.

Campsite # 18 Hazelmere Campground, Langley, BC

A third day that required a long drive to reach our destination. Thankfully the road was smooth, and usually it was a divided highway. These long drives always take much longer than expected; google maps fails to calculate for driving with a trailer. MsGeo got us to Hazelmere Campground, which is located in an urban area. The reception was as it had been when I phoned to book the campsite – warm, welcoming, and informative about what was available in the campground, and where to find essential places, like the grocery store. Our site was wonderful. We were in an end-site, with a slightly larger side yard surrounded by a cedar hedge. Behind us was a tree-shaded river. It was like camping in a tiny park.

We just wanted to rest, because the days of driving, which means, in essence, little activity, are beginning to tire us. There was a large field just across the river where we could walk with Granville. OrangePekoe was content to sit on the wall beside the river and watch for birds. And finally, we had our annual, vacation mini-golf tournament. This time our scores were even. We both liked the ambience at Hazelmere, which was continuously warm, welcoming, chatty, no matter who was working.

A couple of more campsites, and then we’ll be at our final destination. We’re looking forward to both – continuing camping, and the final destination.

Campsite # 7 Bristol, QC

Our second pause in the camping regime. This is one of our favourite places – my cousins’ home on a farm in Pontiac County ,Quebec. We parked under the big tree in their yard. OrangePekoe, the cat, very contentedly stayed tethered to the tow-hitch. She watched birds, the dogs (my cousin also has a dog), and us from a vantage point in the vehicle, or sheltered underneath it. With plenty of water and a small bowl of dry cat food readily available, she was, we presume, in cat glory. Granville, after an initial aggressive display, settled down and made friends with Rosie the farm dog, if you can call dogs palling around friendship. Nigel and I were comfortably accommodated in the house. Thereafter it was good conversation, updates on our respective families, quiet times for reading, and plenty of time to relax. It was, as always, an easy-going atmosphere at my cousin’s home. We enjoyed a tasty lunch, with a friend, at a small restaurant – a bonus for us. After a couple of days here the two of us certainly felt relaxed and ready for the next portion of the trip west.

Campsite # 8 Roe Campground, Arrowhead Provincial Park, Huntsville, ON

It was a surprise to find that Ontario campsites provide power, but no water. However, there is a water-filling-station near the sani-dump, so people with trailers can fill their reserve tank for use during their stay.

Arrowhead Park has three large campgrounds, with a total of nearly 400 campsites. Roe Campground has 100 campsites, some electric, some not. We were in the middle portion in a large site that felt as though there was no-one else nearby. The vegetation between sites was thick, obscuring almost all sight of other trailers, even from the roadway leading to the campsites.

We chose to spend a couple of nights at Arrowhead Park. It was long enough for a short pause to catch our breath, and be rested for the next phase.

Plans for a walk along one of the trails at Arrowhead did not transpire. The rain was coming down in torrents, and included thundershowers. This was not weather for walking through the woods and beside lakes. We were not able to enjoy all that Arrowhead had to offer, nor to share it with our visitors. But we had a fine time because we had visitors.

Campsite # 9 Green Bay Lodge and Camping, Noelville, ON

Originally chosen to meet with the friend who visited us at Arrowhead, we kept this reservation because it was a classic Canadian RV holiday campground. There is a lake with a plethora of water toys, boats, kayaks and canoes to rent, a restaurant and bar for the evening’s entertainment – in other words, the works.

Our site is at the very edge of the permanent sites, where people have set their trailers, added patios, and essentially stay all season. It’s like a small cottage encampment, set for long-term stays. It is a lively place with children and young adults everywhere, riding around on bicycles and ATVs, wearing only swimsuits and carrying nothing more than a towel.

There are only two sites for night-by-night rentals, and we had one of them. Like we’ve experienced with commercial campgrounds, we are cheek-by-jowl with the neighbour, and wide-open to the road. That being said, it has been congenial, with several short conversations with the other campers. We wanted to rest, so we took the time to read and relax. I think this was a good experience in terms of R&R.

Campsite # 10 Agawa Campground, Lake Superior Provincial Park, Wawa, ON

This campground should be glorious, and certainly the setting fits that description. Campsites run in four rows parallel to Lake Superior. A long, sandy beach, peppered with larger pebbles, lined the water’s edge. The beach is human only, no animals allowed. But, bearing in mind that many campers, including us, bring pets, there is a designated dog beach. We took Granville and OrangePekoe to the beach every day, and usually we were alone there.

The unfortunate component of this campsite is that Highway 17, the Trans Canada Highway, was adjacent to the campground. The traffic noise of the huge transport trucks, cars, and motorcycles driving up and down the road. It did quieten down at night, but by 05:30 the trucks were already in motion.

Other than that distraction, this was a lovely campground. The campsite itself was covered with trees, with a cleared space wide enough for a large camping trailer. Plenty of room for us, with our smaller trailer.

Campsite # 11 Marathon, ON

Marathon – a couple of nights inside, visiting a long-time friend from Botswana days. As always, our friend was warm and welcoming. We were extremely comfortable with lots of conversation, and some moments of quiet time together. Her dogs, after an initial stance, accommodated Granville. OrangePekoe stayed in the camping trailer, much to her delight (we think she likes it because she gets to explore the hidey-holes in the trailer).

Wendy asked us to stay an extra night, and we gratefully accepted her invitation. It began raining soon after we arrived, and continued to rain, at times heavily, for the next day. A quiet day is always good, but this rainy disruption gave us a long, quiet day, gratefully received. We read, talked, talked some more. Granville, on the other hand, was glad to have an opportunity to sprawl out on the couch.

Campsite # 12 Campground, Quetico Provincial Park, ON

Quetico, the quintessential back-country campground. We were front-country camping. That is to say, we were camping in regular sites. Ontario provides power only at camping trailer sites. We had to fill our tank from a designated water filling station in the park. This was fine with us, of course. Our very large campsite was fairly open, but as we had come to expect in Ontario provincial campgrounds, privacy barriers in the form of shrubs and trees surrounded the site.

Ontario provincial campgrounds provide many activities for campers. There is always canoeing, and often a beach for swimming. At Quetico there was a small museum outlining some of the centuries-long history of the area. That captivated us. This area has piqued my interest, and that requires more research on my part.

Campsite # 13 Campground, Rushing River Provincial Park, Kenora, ON

Rushing River Provincial Park seemed to not quite come up to its potential. We were assigned a very public campsite, where we tried to create an illusion of privacy. We were relatively successful because we had a corner plot with a huge rock on one side and a small clutch of trees on the other.

And then the rain came. We had a terrific thunderstorm. Rain was pouring down as though someone was dumping buckets of water on the earth. Thunder cracked, lightening flashed – a very loud display. A couple of the thunder-lightening episodes seemed to be right overhead, certainly nearby. Quite a show and it seemed to confuse the electrics in the trailer – the smoke detector bleeped, the carbon monoxide and propane alert completely gave up the ghost, and the water pump went on the fritz. We always hope to have a bit of excitement when camping, but this was a bit too much excitement.

I guess in the campground bingo game 13 was lucky for some.

Rushing River Provincial Park was the logical evening stop along a route less travelled. The main route west, through this part of Ontario is Highway 17, the Trans-Canada road from Thunder Bay to the border with Manitoba. Wanting to look at something a little different, curious about the area around Rainy River and Lake of the Woods, we chose to travel along Highway 11, then north on Highway 71. This was new territory for both of us.

By now we knew what to expect as we drove along through the classic Canadian tree tunnel.

The Canadian Shield, which covers more than half of Canada has left an indelible imprint on the landscape. How could it not – it is the underlying bedrock that determines the structure and content of so many of our provinces. The now familiar sight – bog, lake and bare rock – appeared regularly beside the road.

Occasionally the water was wider, giving the impression of a lake. Impression only. It was an example of a larger marshy area, filled with conifers, cat-tails and exposed rocks.

All this morass is the result of severe glaciation which scraped the soil from the underlying rocks, and compacted the remaining soil so it fails to drain well. The extensive muskeg, those marshy areas we kept seeing, is the result. Even after a billion years, the effects of the ice age are still evident, still affecting the landscape of this part of Canada.

We were unlucky with the weather. A severe rainfall warning came to fruition. Suddenly it was pouring. We had little option but to continue driving. With that heavy rain, visibility was poor, and there was no safe place to pull off the road.

Thankfully, there was a break in the rain just as we spotting a roadside picnic area. These are fairly frequent turnoffs on the Ontario roads. Often they are well appointed with picnic tables and ‘comfort’ stations (a sweet word for toilets). We welcomed this break in the travel trajectory. We both know that frequent breaks are important.

With the two animals breaks happen more frequently than might otherwise be the case. You know how it is – we get focussed on making time, getting to the destination. The roadside picnic sites where we stop every couple of hours force us to slow down, pause, and remember that the journey is as important as the destination. Having driven through some heavy rain, we were very glad to pause for a sandwich and a cool drink. We admired the very attractive stands of birch trees, glistening after the rainfall.

Just a few kilometres beyond the picnic area the vegetation at the side of the road became less dense. We could see a lake through it – Rainy Lake.

Unexpectedly, there was a scenic viewpoint at the side of the road. We stopped to look at this expansive lake, approximately 90 km long, and 75 km wide, with three long fingers north west and south east. We were impressed with the view, obscured in part by trees that had grown since the roadside-wide-spot was constructed.

In the mid-1800s, the area was surveyed by a dual expedition, the Dawson/Gladman expedition. A few years later, Dawson was appointed Superintendent of Roads. He surveyed much of northwest Ontario and south-east Manitoba with the objective to find where roads could be built to bring settlers to the area. We were inadvertently following along some of his trails west. Highway 11 follows the Dawson trail for about a quarter of the distance, then it follows continues along the Rainy River route used by Voyageurs. Using contemporary transportation, we were following an historic trail.

(https://heritage.enggeomb.ca/index.php/Dawson_Trail)

One of our thrills was driving along the long causeway at the western end of Rainy Lake. It’s always fun to drive, seemingly on top of the water, from one bit of land to another. This short causeway, at water level, was interesting.

Having worked on several power line projects in various parts of the world, the power lines that snaked along the contour of Rainy Lake interested Nigel. Discussion ensued about the technical challenges of the survey as well as the construction challenges to ensure stability in the electrical towers. The engineers found a stable solution, perching the towers on bits of land jutting into the lake. Possibly some of the tiny peninsulas were created with the express purpose of supporting the towers, a well-considered solution from his experience opinion.

Just beyond Fort Frances, we began to see float planes, which take people ot the many fishing lodges dotted around Rainy Lake and Lake of the Woods. Sport fishing is big business here. Apparently record-sized walleye, bass, northern pike and sturgeon are caught in these lakes. Because there is very little solid ground, access to the fishing camps and lodges is by float plane only.

There is a small company near where we live in Nova Scotia that makes the floats for planes like these. It could be that this plane is sporting Bear River floats.

Lake of the Woods, a large lake in northwestern Ontario, is a prominent feature. We could almost reach out and touch it as we drove along Highway 71 towards Rushing River Provincial Park.

Lake of the Woods and Rainy Lake are connected by many waterways. Portages might be necessary to transport a canoe from one lake or river to another, but it seems that this part of Ontario is a maze of lakes and rivers. Canoe routes are indicated on billboards at provincial parks. We saw some of them at Quetico, which link the Dawson Trail to these western lakes. At Rushing River Provincial Park, we examined another canoe route billboard.

The five trails that originate in Rushing River Provincial Park are part of the Trans Canada Trail, a system of trails that traverse the country from the Atlantic to the Pacific to the Arctic. These trails include paddling trails, like the Migizi Trail, which runs from Kenora to Dryden. A map of that trail is at one of the portage points in Rushing River.

While not prepared to canoe, we were content to walk along trails. We meandered along one of the portages. This was a fairly easy trail, beside the river. Within a very short space, we saw rushing water.

and calm water, and could understand the difficulties that a portage could present to those recreating the classic treks of the voyageurs.

Canoeing is a favourite Canadian outdoor activity. We are all Voyageurs at heart. Many people want to canoe in the provincial parks in northwestern Ontario, following historic routes. To facilitate participation in a much liked activity, and a link to Canada’s history, Parks Ontario rents canoes. They are stacked on racks beside access points. These are the solution for those who do not own or did not bring their canoe to the park.

The closest we got to water immersion was a brief swim in the Rushing River. Nigel was the brave one. Not me. I suspected it would be cold, and Nigel assured me it was indeed very cold. He swam briefly; more like hopped in and out again. Only children seemed to stay in for any length of time.

The swim, at sunset – a traditional summer activity. So too was the sunset over Dogtooth Lake, filtered through the trees that ring it. Canadian classical seasonal images.

Kakabeka Falls is the second highest waterfall in Ontario (Niagara Falls is higher). On the Kaministiquia River, Kakabeka drops 40 metres from one level to the next. It does this with thunderous majesty, creating a wild, foamy waterfall reflecting the violence of the tumble over the rocky Pre-Cambrian ledge.

Kakabeka Falls Provincial Park is where to see this amazing sight. There is a boardwalk, with protective barriers, around the falls. It is well marked, and regularly patrolled by park personnel. For us, it was a pleasure to walk around a well-maintained and easily accessible site. There are maps at a couple of locations along the boardwalk, pointing out the salient features of Kakabeka Falls, and walking routes around the park.

After the last glacial era, the icy meltwater eroded a channel through the sedimentary rocks. The layers of shale are well demarcated in the escarpment that creates the chasm through which the Kaministiquia River surges. Under its powerful water flow, that unstable shale channel continues to erode today.

The rocky escarpment is off limits because of continuing rock falls. Quite frankly, I think it should be off limits because of the rapids and the danger of being swept underwater by the currents. It always looks so calm from a distance, such as from a viewing platform at the top of the escarpment.

Don’t be fooled. That water is a swirling imbroglio which will pull anyone or anything into its embrace. Not exactly loving, but certainly all encompassing.

The Voyageurs, the European fur traders who plied the waters of Northwestern Ontario in the 1600s were cautious around the swirling and plunging waters of this area. They developed a portage around the Kakabeka Falls. Portages were necessary components of the routes through Canada. They were used to bypass waterfalls and rapids, life-threateningly dangerous for the travellers and their laden canoes. The Voyageur route, named the Mountain Portage, was used by several of Canada’s eminent European explorers, surveyors, map makers and settlers. This is commemorated with a plaque at the falls.

Stories, tales, legends often originate with waterfalls. There is a legend that Ojibwe Princess, Green Mantle was captured by the fearsome Sioux. She deceived those warriors by leading them on a false route down the Kaministiquia River towards Kakabeka Falls. The Sioux realised the trickery too late. They and Princess Green Mantle plunged to their death over the thunderous waterfall. The legend holds that you can glimpse the princess in the mist of the falls. She must have been at peace on the day we were there, because she did not appear. However, stretch the imagination, and maybe, just maybe, she floated through this misty section.

Standing on the bridge above the falls it is easy to understand how the Sioux warriors were fooled by Princess Green Mantle. The water is deceptively calm, then suddenly ripples begin, and the waterfalls are just ahead. A stick dropped in the water, swirled and tossed along, taking mere seconds to tumble over the edge. Those little waves pull with significant force.

The bubbling cauldron just where the water overflows fascinated me. The whole scope of this landform was laid out before me. From this vantage point the edge of Kakabeka Falls, and the depth of the drop into the chasm below, were both visible.

From the boardwalk at the side of the falls, their full majesty was on display. That watery plumage, best seen from a slightly off-set angle, did not disappoint. Quite the opposite. The whole scene was enthralling. Pounding water advancing rapidly over the 100 metre wide cataract. Stalwart rocks helplessly trying to dam the flow. Valiant trees standing guard on the side lines. A scene worthy of the phrase “The True North, strong and free!”

Powerful water sculpted this natural architecture, continuously chiselling away at the rock ledge, eroding it attometre by attometre while at the same time we stood mesmerised, and sprinkled, by the dancing spray.

Standing there, I imagined Voyageurs, early map-makers, and even Princess Green Mantle, standing on this spot, feeling the same awe and respect for Kakabeka Falls as I felt.

We were on the road again, heading towards Quetico Provincial Park.

We do use the GPS in the vehicle, but we are both traditionalists. GPS functions well for details, and for information within a few kilometres. We like using a paper map. It provides the overview that we crave.

We were not disappointed to observe the now familiar Canadian Shield landscape: lakes

trees, and rocks.

The road was lined with rock cuttings showing off the granite for which the area is renown. Granite is a very common igneous rock, and the main rock in the Earth’s crust. It was formed more than a billion years ago when molten lava was oozing and spitting its way to the surface of the Earth. Now we see evidence of that geological activity when we drive through the rock cuttings on Highway 17, that hugs its way around Lake Superior.

There was evidence of current rock blasting along the route, presumably to continue with road improvements. This section created an impressive cliff-edge, foreshadowing what we would see an hour later.

Although not a stressful drive, we paused for a scenic break at a road-side pull-off about 2-1/2 hours west of Marathon. The view over Lake Superior, hazy and obscured by trees, was spectacular.

Behind us was an equally spectacular escarpment. This is the Kama Cliffs, a long section of exposed bedrock. We reckoned the vertical exposure was about 25 metres high.

The Ontario government has developed the Kama Cliffs Reserve, and a lengthy Conservation Statement is associated with that project. The Pays Plat First Nation, an Ojibwe community near the Kama Cliffs has been consulted about conservation in the area. Apparently “Nothing in this Statement of Conservation Interest affects in way existing or future aboriginal or treaty rights. These rights will continue to be respected.” (https://www.ontario.ca/page/kama-cliffs-conservation-reserve-management-statement)

Presumably the Reserve Management Statement takes into account the seven essential values in Canadian Indigenous teaching. These values guide us in how we must live with ourselves, others, and the natural environment. Here is very light reading to explain these values – https://www.ola.org/sites/default/files/common/pdf/Seven%20Grandfather%20Teachings%20WEB%20Eng%20.pdf

The area we were overlooking touches the Lake Superior National Marine Conservation Area, an protected area in the largest fresh water lake in the world. One of the main tributary rivers is the Nipigon River, which arises in Lake Nipigon. The main bridge on this portion of the Trans-Canada Highway is the Nipigon River Bridge. It is a cable-stayed bridge. That means the bridge is supported by cables attached to upright posts. This very attractive bridge was fully opened to traffic in 2018.

The Trans-Canada Highway bypasses the towns along this route. This makes for speedy travel, a much desired feature on long-distance drives. Because of this, we did not see the towns, not even Thunder Bay. We drove near them, but not through them. It meant we caught glimpses of the scarce but seemingly productive farmland along Highway 17.

As we neared Thunder Bay we were reminded about a famous Canadian who ran from St John’s, Newfoundland to Thunder Bay, Ontario in 1980. His Marathon of Hope continues as an annual fund-raising activity for the Canadian Cancer Society. A portion of the Trans-Canada has been renamed the Terry Fox Courage Highway, memorialising one young man’s philanthropy., and continuing inspiration to many Canadians.

Beyond Thunder Bay, we paused for a rather long time at Kakabeka Falls on the Kaministiquia River. At 40 metres, these are the second highest falls in Ontario. (Niagara Falls is just more than 10 meters higher.) Kakabeka Falls plunge over the underlying Pre-Cambrian rock. The water is brown, not from mud or pollution but from the tannins and organic matter that have steeped into the water from the spruce bogs and wetlands upriver. There is a boardwalk with viewing platforms so tourists, like us, could enjoy the view and experience the majesty of Kakabeka Falls.

Past more lakes,

more trees and wildflowers

we arrived at Quetico Provincial Park.

The Parks Office had a small museum. Of course we examined the exhibits.

We did our best to follow the advice on one of the posters – putting together all the pieces.

We did that by spotting flora,

and fauna,

and the occasional troop of fungi.

Quetico Provincial Park has many, many canoe routes. The Coeur-de-Bois and Voyageurs paddled their large birchbark canoes along these waterways, creating and maintaining trade routes with the First Nations. Quetico keeps that tradition, with fibreglass canoe rentals available in the park. The canoes rest at several access points, ready for keen outdoorsy types.

We were full of admiration for those historic canoeists, and the contemporary ones. Once upon a time, when I was young, I enjoyed canoeing. These days I reminisce and enjoy dipping my toes in the water. Nigel and Granville did the same.

Quetico Provincial Park is a reminder of times past and also a presentation of contemporary Canadian wilderness. As during the times of the Voyageurs, there are no defined canoe routes in Quetico, but there are hundreds of kilometres of interconnected waterways. Any lake, like this one, is connected to several other lakes directly via rivers that flow in or out of the lake, or indirectly via portages over the small portions of land that separate the lakes. Looking at this lake, imagine canoeing along as a voyageur, drinking in the beauty of the scenery, the flora and fauna visible en route, and the excitement of anticipated trade opportunities. That is the joy of Quetico.

Our route on this day went from Agawa Bay Campground to Marathon, Ontario. A mainly inland route, it was a short drive – about 4-hours door to door. We left later than we planned, so we decided to make no stops en route.

Best laid plans. There was an unexpected stop. Continuing along the TransCanada – Highway 17 in this part of Ontario – began with a slow-down. We stopped because of construction. Damage caused from a road washout less than a week previously was under repair. Very interesting to see the process, and how quickly the work was being completed.

We had long realised that the roadside views through this epitome of the Canadian Shield would include bogs,

lakes with islands in the middle,

and a new feature – rivers.

Occasionally a raging river ran right beside the highway.

These were all quick sightings. The passenger (me) was looking all the time. The driver (Nigel) was looking as much as he could, but his concentration was on the road. The Trans-Canada was in excellent condition, except for the washout-bit. However, there was constant vigilance for wildlife, especially moose. We spotting nothing like that. The wildest thing we saw was Nigel’s neckerchief.

As well as all those natural features, there were many human created features along the road. Every 2 km there was a distance marker indicating how far it was to the Manitoba border.

The road passed through many rock cuttings created to construct the smooth highway . They showed off the underlying igneous rock so typical of this area. Sometimes there was red in the rock, possibly hematite used to create the red ochre in the rock art we saw at Agawa Bay. Possibly an indication of iron deposits. All speculation on our part.

Logging is a major industry in this area. There was evidence of that in several places. It is not a beautiful industry, but we all like wood and paper so it is a necessary industry.

Human created structures, like this seemingly delicate metal bridge over White Lake revealed the industriousness of the early settlers in the area. Roads were built. That led to bridges to cross the lakes and rivers facilitating transportation of the logs and other primary industry products gleaned from this region.

Mining is another primary industry in the area. Barrick Mines are gold mines. There were three mines near Marathon, it dwindled to one, but there is discussion and promises of re-opening one or maybe both of the closed mines. This is the working mine, I believe.

We rounded a corner in the road, and there ahead was Lake Superior, a sapphire drop sparkling at the end of the tree tunnel that we’d been driving through.

Our long drive through fairly similar landscape, led us to Marathon. This is a small town on the shore of Lake Superior. Historically, most people worked at the pulp mill. As that industry was closing down, the gold mines began opening up.

We were there to visit our friend Wendy. She is a long-time friend from Botswana days. We were glad to see her again, and to meet her friend Wayne.

Our all-too-short pause with these friends was filled with activity, conversation and laughter. One day was so rainy that we stayed inside, but on the other day we got out to explore a bit of Marathon. Wendy and I went on a tour of the town – Pebble Beach, with smooth rocks the size of watermelons,

the swimming beach in the harbour,

and Penn Lake, surrounded by a large municipal park, nearly in the middle of town.

Nigel and Wayne played golf at the Peninsula Golf Course. This course was the last course designed by Canadian Stanley Thompson, a world-renown golf course architect.

The course, as outlined on the sample score card, seems challenging. Nigel said it was challenging to score well, but it doesn’t punish high-handicappers too badly. That being said, both men played well.

When we visit friends, we are there for the craic – wide-ranging conversations, catching up, and then extending to current activities. At Wendy’s we were assured of some quiet times, just being company in the same room, an amusing ourselves together on the rainy day, e.g. talking while playing online games,

and very tasty meals.

And except for the rainy night, we enjoyed seeing the sunset from Wendy’s back patio. A memorable ending to each day.

Recognising that some people travel with dogs, and that dogs often like to run off leash on a beach, Agawa Bay Campground has a dedicated dog beach. It is shielded from the human beach by a bit of a dune and a shallow creek.

Being constantly tethered is a new lifestyle for Granville and OrangePekoe. There is little space for them to roam at the campsite., and even less when their movements are restricted to the length of their tether. We took the two of them to the dog beach for some R&R.

Granville exploded into action, running and cavorting on the sand. OrangePekoe was more circumspect, initially mincing about a bit on the sand.

Debris had been left on this beach, which made an ideal play-park for our pets. OrangePekoe found a log that became her balance beam as she carefully trod her way along it.

Not to be outdone, Granville found a bigger log, one that spanned a few metres of water. That became her balance beam. She did well, reaching the other side without a tumble into the drink.

And so it continued until Granville launched herself into Lake Superior to retrieve a stick. Then OrangePekoe sat to one side, quietly tolerating the shenanigans.

A small stick was not enough. Granville’s favourite game, a version of tossing the caber, was on the beach agenda.

Expending that pent up energy was just what the animals needed. And us, quite frankly.

We had a quiet walk back up the beach and back to our campsite. It is an excellent idea having a dedicated dog beach at a provincial park. Both dogs (or cats) and their humans are content with that.

Lake Superior Provincial Park has several trails with varying challenge levels. We are mature now, so the mountain climbing and long-distance rambles of our youth are not quite as appealing as once they were. Especially not on the usually uneven, and often narrow terrain of the Canadian Shield.

Pinguisibi is an easy, linear trail. Total length is about 6 km. We walked about half of it, to the first waterfalls. That was our objective. There are more waterfalls on the route, which leads to a portage for one of the canoe routes. I dislike walking out and back along the , same route – a bit boring for me. Nigel is quite accepting of them, but with Granville’s antics, and OrangePekoe remaining alone in the trailer, we were not interested in the further distance.

Granville, leashed to Nigel, gallivanted along the trail. If shenanigans were possible, she fully dipped into that behaviour. At one point she nearly knocked Nigel into the water because she was so keen to jump into the swirl below. Thankfully he was ready for her actions. He frequently braced himself against a tree to gain further purchase. That rapidly whirling water was just below him. I stood back and took snapshots, as any loving partner would do.

Rapids are fascinating. The water bubbles and boils, swirls and whirls, tumbling over rocks and boulders in its race downstream. The ever-changing patterns are mesmerising, almost pulling a person over the edge and into the water. I tend to stand back, not trusting the rocks nor the hypnotic effect.

The trail was fairly easy walking. Sometimes Nigel and Granville went ahead.

I trailed behind, taking snapshots of new-to-me plants.

We rounded a bend in the trail, and suddenly there was the waterfall. Not a big drop, but certainly a rough looking tumble downward.

We wandered a bit further along, and discovered that we could walk out along the rocks above the waterfall. This usually makes me apprehensive. Water is unpredictable. Even in a river there are sudden waves that reach out and grab an unsuspecting bystander. Standing at the side to take a photograph was just fine with me.

There are often calm pools above any waterfalls. The water seems to swirl in anticipation of its exciting roller-coaster trip down the falls, creating delightful mandala-type designs in the pool. I can watch these for hours; they seem almost meditative.

Returning back along the trail, we had a close look at the smooth, flatish, rocky formations below the rapids. Nigel and Granville walked out a distance.

Being much more cautious, I stayed closer to shore, from where I could admire the designs in the rock that mimicked the swirling designs in the water above the falls.

The famous Canadian painter group, The Group of Seven, painted the Canadian landscape from Haliburton to north of Lake Superior. Having seen, and walked along, sa variety of Canadian terrains, I can understand the appeal of recording these delightful and iconic landscapes in paintings. Next time, I might carry my easel and paints.

Behind all the rock walls Lake Superior Provincial Park boasts eleven hiking trails ranging in difficulty from easy (fairly level terrain, about 1-2 hours long) to very demanding (not well marked, very uneven, long distance, overnight trip). We opted for a couple of the medium hikes.

The walk to see the Agawa Bay Pictographs was our premier choice. The Ojibwe name for this area is Mazinaubikinguning.

The trail to the rock art is 400 metres, including a 30 meter descent to the water’s edge. There is a distance marker about half-way down the trail.

The trail winds through a forested area, the classic Canadian jungle of trees and shrubs. Moss spread over almost everything indicating the dampness of the area. Ferns sprouted from handfuls of available soil. A mixture of deciduous and coniferous trees obscured the sky.

Not to be outdone by the trees and shrubs, the rocks presented their own intriguing display. Down a short side path, a chasm was seemingly held apart by a balancing rock.

There was an information placard at the narrow path through a chasm towards the balancing rock. It explained that the granite rocks in the chasm had been formed from molten rock 2-1/2 billion years ago. There were later intrusions of a softer rock, which here is called diabase. In some places, like this one, the diabase eroded and left the granite exposed. Presumably the granite boulder suspended in the chasm is a relic of the erosion.

We turned our back on this phenomenon, and continued along the rough, green and granite-strewn path.

Not too far ahead we could see the rock wall with its famous pictographs. These red ochre images are a mystery. Possibly they are records of dreams, events, or mythical creatures.

Some images have been identified, and a chart at the viewing platform indicates that information.

When the water is calm, tourists can walk along the small ledge at the bottom of the cliff. We were fortunate with weather – calm, with a barely perceptible swell on the lake. The first images
were visible from the viewing platform.

The ledge under the cliff, while providing close viewing of the rock art, is a potentially dangerous place. There was a sign indicating the danger at the beginning of the trail, and again at the viewing platform.

There are ropes and chains bolted to the cliff that can be held for extra security.

There is also a classic life-saving ring at the beginning of the cliff walk.

Nigel, with his character traits, decided to walk the length of the cliff to see the pictographs. I decided to remain where I was, at the viewing platform, and enjoy the pictographs and scenery from where I stood. It was a distance around the cliff-wall, but Nigel said he saw the pictographs on the chart. Some were darker, more visible than others, but he was glad he continued to the end.

The return trek seemed quicker, as is often the case. We walked up the steps carved by nature and modified by humans. It was an easy climb.

The end/beginning of the trail had a large poster with a photograph of the rock easel that displays these art pieces. Interestingly, contemporary wall art has been added to the display. The art and calligraphic circle continues.

Noelville to Agawa Bay is 505 km. We reckoned it’d take about 6 hours to drive the distance. The route would take us along Lake Huron to Lake Superior – a bit inland, but essentially following the edges of the contours of those two lakes. It took considerably longer, but there you go – google map times fail to account for pauses en route, and the slower pace required when pulling a trailer.

On a classic paper map, the route looked like this – which somehow seemed to reflect more of what we encountered.

This is northern Ontario, a land of rocks, lakes and trees, typical of the Canadian Shield. This is where the ancient geological core of North America eases its way to the surface. Eases – such a soft word for the crags and mounds of Precambrian igneous and metamorphic rock that dominates northern Ontario; the landform that dominates northern Canada, in fact.

The boreal forest finds footage in the thin layer of soil that covers the rock. This is a vast extent of mainly coniferous trees (spruce, fir, pine, tamarack). This ecosystem covers about 55% of Canada’s land surface.

While the ecosystem is an ancient one, the boreal forest itself is not filled with ancient trees. Wildfires erase the tree stock regularly and insects devour them, which means that the trees are replenished often. Rocks and trees were the predominant features that we saw during our drive towards Agawa Bay.

The rock cuttings required to build the road were telling features of the Canadian Shield. Historically, this road, Highway 17, the Trans Canada Highway, twisted and wound its way north. With contemporary construction techniques and machinery, huge rock cuts were blasted out of the Precambrian base and used to fill the valleys in the route. This created a smooth, very even surface with none of the stomach-churning dips and dives that were once a feature of this long-distance drive.

Taking advantage of the strong rock, occasionally bridges were supported by natural granite pillars and posts.

The roadside, going up the Lake Huron portion of the route, was what we had come to expect in northern Ontario – marshes

and lakes, often with a tree-covered island in the middle.

The roadside also revealed more of what drives the economy in northern Ontario – sawmills

and the trucking required to move the wood around the province.

We spotted the stacks of one of the mines in Sudbury. Sudbury is known for its nickle and copper mines. Cobalt, platinum, gold and silver are also mined in the area. Mining has been the backbone of Sudbury’s economy for more than a century. With contemporary environmental regulations, the industry is as environmentally astute as it must be.

Frequently we spotted very long trains, moving heavy goods around the province and the country

and occasionally we were amused by the associated service vehicles.

The road itself gave us some perspective into northern Ontario. It is a region dominated by heavy industry. Fairly often the road bridge and railway bridge ran closely parallel with each other.

Wild life holds sway, and is accommodated. There were several wild-life crossings, bridges that let animals walk over the road in safety. And that, quite frankly, keep the drivers safe too, since many of the large animals are dark and therefore not easily visible at night. Moose are especially notorious for invisibility, despite their large size.

Although this is predominantly a rocky landscape, we were astonished to see swathes of farmland along the north shore of Lake Huron.

The ‘proudly Canadian’ moniker is evident here. Canadian flags were blazoned on the rock faces at several spots along Highway 17.

Our eyes were full of sights, but the first sight of Lake Superior , a tiny blue flag amidst the rocky cliffs, captured us.

Both of us have long been curious about Lake Superior, the largest lake in the world, by surface area (82 410 sq km). Decades ago, when I criss-crossed our country by train, the CP line ran beside Lake Superior. There were glimpses of the lake from the train windows. From those experiences I felt as though I knew what to expect. I was wrong. While the first glimpses were enticing, the full spectacle, viewed a bit later was enthralling.

To our delight the road skirted the lake for short distances

but the tall hills, mountains really, still dominated the landscape.

Somewhere after Pancake Bay we found a viewing point. It afforded a view over the lake towards Lake Superior Provincial Park, our destination on this day.

Nigel got out the binoculars to scan the horizon. With 257 km of water stretching to the opposite shore, all he saw was water, water everywhere. This was a pause that emphasised the colossal size of this lake.

This was further underlined at our campground, Agawa Bay Campground in Lake Superior Provincial Park. This is a narrow campground, tucked between Highway 17 and a vaguely crescent-shaped sandy beach.

Like all of them in this campground, our campsite was enclosed by tall trees.

The beach area was wide open, and included a wheelchair pad, ensuring global access.

We, of course, wandered down to enjoy the expansive view,

and to watch the sunset over Lake Superior. Stereotypical for sure, but not to be overlooked.

Initially chosen because we planned to meet a friend who stays in a cottage near here. That plan came apart, but we were already booked, and we assumed that it was a good idea to keep the booking. That was a correct assumption. We left Arrowhead Provincial Park in the afternoon, but due to travelling along a couple of secondary roads, our speed was much slower than initially planned.

This was not a problem because the main road north, Highway 400 that became Highway 69, was smooth and wide. Bliss when towing a trailer.

Frequently, lakes appeared alongside the road. Always large, very blue, with rocky coastlines and tree-clad islands. This is the classic northern Ontario landscape, the scenes made famous by the Group of Seven and their colleagues in the early 20^th century.

Just as often as a lake, the roadside featured a bit of marshy land, or a pond filled with vegetation. Rocks, those well documented Pre-Cambrian, igneous rocks poked their way out of the water to remind us that this is the Laurentian Shield.

Even the road had regular reminders about the rocky nature of this part of Canada, commonly called the Near North. It’s not quite far enough north to be considered ‘the North’, but it’s almost there, so it’s the ‘Near North’. It’s a part of Canada where we all live on rock.

Contemporary technology has made smooth, more evenly graded roads possible. Drilling and blasting makes these large cuttings possible. The drill holes are sometimes visible – those vertical white stripes are evidence of drilling. Driving through kilometres of rock faces, the residual rock after the road was created, was an eye opener. This is not an easy area in which to build anything, especially a major road like this portion of the Trans Canada Highway.

Moose make their way onto the roads, posing a hazard. There are warning signs that had us chuckling. The moose seems full of rage, bent on destruction of the vehicles that cross its path.

A moose fence alongside the road is a precaution that we were glad to see. It’s not failsafe, but it does reduce the number of moose, and other creatures, that wander into the road. The extra fencing at the lower portion of the fence had us intrigued, debating what smaller animals could pose enough of a hazard to drivers that they require screening from the road. Wildcats? Bobcats? Cougars? Skunks?

We travelled down a dirt road to reach out campground.

There was the now common sight of a blasted out rock face just at the turn down the road into the campground.

Our campsite was at the outside edge of a row of permanent campers. In many of these RV campgrounds, people set up their large camping trailers in a permanent spot, build patios and outbuildings around it, and create a small camping community. This campsite features that trait, with only two campsites for overnight campers like us.

It was a wide-open site, but with three-way hook-up (power, water, sewer), and a restaurant, we were happy with the location. A tasty meal at the restaurant, which is much like a roadside trucker-diner, was a very welcome treat after a couple of what were essentially experimental camp-cooked meals.

Granville and OrangePekoe seemed to enjoy the spot. Granville free-ranged on the road during her morning walk; OrangePekoe remained leashed. Here is a classic animal picture in which bums are the feature.

It was a sultry day, so all of us lazed around the campsite. OrangePekoe tucked herself under the raspberry bushes at the edge of the campsite.

Granville sprawled on the grass at the picnic table.

We read our books.

An suddenly, playing electronically-generated Christmas tunes, the bakery truck appeared.

Then we roused ourselves to get some butter tarts, a classic Canadian sweet which is basically a sugar syrup cooked in pastry. Very tasty. Very tasty indeed. De rigeur for a cross-Canada trip.

We also had a plate of poutine at the restaurant. We are having fun with classic, stereotypical Canadian food en route. It coalesced here, but likely there’ll be more opportunities for tasty food along the way.

Feeling classically Canadian, we decided to explore a nearby rough-bush area. With both animals in tow, we wandered along a classic logging road – a pitted, rutted road lined with trees and inhabited by millions of bugs. Typical Ontario bush.

Nigel braved the long grasses and potential crawly bugs to examine a large billboard in the woods. It was an old map, faded and jaded, indicating cross-country ski trails in the area.

Despite the buggy drawback, around any bend there is always a river or lake view to appeal to our aesthetic senses and that will capture our imagination.

Green Bay Campground, because of its amenities – restaurant, swimming area, water toys – was a fine stop. We rested. We treated ourselves to diner food. We revelled in some short saunters around the campground and to adjacent areas of Canadian refined-wilderness.

Even though it seems like the whole trip has been relaxing, and it certainly has been, this was just the ticket at this pause in the journey west.

We left Quebec behind, with a tinge of ‘je regrette’ . Ontario was calling. Our route would take us along the bottom edge of the famous Algonquin Provincial Park, famous because the Group of Seven painted here and their exhibits promoted the park.

We crossed the provincial border at Portage-du-Fort, where the road is perched on top of the dam that creates hydro power for the area and beyond.

This route passes through farmland in the Ottawa Valley. Although part of the rocky Laurentian Shield, the centuries of silt carried down the Ottawa River and the soil deposited by glaciers has made this area a rich enough farming area.

This is construction season in Canada. We had a long pause at one of the construction sites. OrangePekoe popped up and watched the view outside her window.

Granville watched from the other side of the vehicle.

The two of us enjoyed the scenery as well, thanks to the long construction pause.

Just past Barry’s Bay, we stopped at a roadside picnic site. It was an extremely hot day, but we enjoyed a brief pause, a bite to eat, and some cool drink in this pretty park.

We all wanted to splay out on the grass, in a bit of shade. The animals did that, or a variation of that. Granville under the table. OrangePekoe on the grass.

Although we have a GPS in the vehicle, both of us are traditionalists. Out came the map of Ontario for consultation. (Yes, we did have snacks with our lunch, but I assure you, our lunch was healthy food items.)

We were entering Algonquin Park landscapes – rocky outcroppings and cuttings at the side of the road,

and lakes abutting the road.

From our picnic site, we were soon at Arrowhead Provincial Park, Huntsville, Ontario, in a neat, little site setting up our camp.

It was a calm evening, so we prepared the requisite BBQ supper. The calm before the storm because during the night the rain started, and it continued for all the next day. This was our window of opportunity, and we didn’t realise it. We just enjoyed the moment.

Arrowhead Provincial Park is within a couple or three hours of places in southern Ontario where family and friends live. We stayed here so they could visit us, should they choose.

Nephew David, and his wife Rena made a plan. They came up to Huntsville, and we all went for breakfast at a chain-restaurant in Huntsville. The menu revolved around breakfast-type entrees. It was a noisy place, with quick service, tasty food, and an ever-refilled mug of coffee. Fairly typical of such restaurants. What we liked best was our lively, laughter filled, anecdote replete conversation with David and Rena. We were thrilled that they made a plan to visit us from their home more than a couple of hours away.

Long-time friend Janet (58 years of friendship) came for an overnight visit. Initially we thought that she could stay in our trailer, but it was just too congested. Fortunately, she brought a small tent.

Unfortunately, it was a cool night. Janet said her temperature guage indicated that the temp dropped to 9 degrees, so the concept of comfort did not quite play out in reality. That being said, the company was warm, congenial, and filled with conversation and laughter – a perfect, far-too-short visit.

We three travelled in tandem for a few kilometres the next morning. Our paths diverged at Rosseau – us to a site a bit north, near French River, and Janet to a friend’s a bit south.

Arrowhead Provincial Park is located on the traditional territory of the Anishinaabeg. It provides a variety of recreational activities as well as campsites. Those camping for longer may rent canoes, kayaks, or paddleboards. Information is provided about water routes suitable for the specific craft. There are fishing sites within the park where a person may catch Rainbow Trout, Speckles Trout, and Large & Smallmouth Bass. Several swimming beaches are available to cool off on hot days. There are eight walking trails, ranging from easy to moderate exertion. It is a Provincial Park that seems to have something for everyone. Had it not been bucketing with rain during our stay we would have explored several of the walking trails. As it was, we took the dog for a few short walks

and the cat stayed on site, generally in the trailer.

At Arrowhead, we were fortunate with visitors, but unfortunate with the weather. Win some; lose some.

Camping sites are as varied as any array of locations or activities can be.

Campsite #1 Chegnecto, Fundy National Park, NB

We arrived at the campsite at about 17:00, and began setting up, getting the trailer stabilised and balanced, and the outside accoutrements in place. Stabilising always takes a bit of time and plenty of tweaking, but it’s well worth the effort. Having an even platform for moving around and sleeping is crucial, if for no reason other than walking without wobbling. Our trailer is not large, 7 metres long, about 2.5 metres wide) so there is not much walking, but it is helpful to feel steady on the feet. For a person who tends towards motion sickness, this is doubly crucial. I’ve been in an unbalanced trailer, to no good end.

Unfortunately, the sky quickly clouded over – well, truth be told we had been observing the developing cloud bank during the afternoon and reckoned it would rain during the night. It rained in the midst of setting up camp, which disrupted the sequence of getting items in place. It was all just fine because we unpacked some of the items inside, made some supper, and dealt with organising the ‘thrown together’ camp on the morrow. After that seemingly uneven start, all progressed smoothly. We were comfortable in our trailer and at our campsite.

There are a couple of reasons why we camp with a trailer these days. We prefer to sleep on a bed, not the ground. It is wonderful to have a waterproof tin roof overhead rather than damp and sometimes leaky canvas. Trailers hook up to electric and water, which makes the outdoor experience eminently decadent, and at this stage that is just right for us. We no longer wish to ‘rough it’ to feel as though we’ve been out camping. We can be in comfort and still enjoy the environment, the near wilderness of trees and plants.

National Park ‘front-country’ campsites are close together, but the overall campsite design ensures that each campsite feels almost isolated, its own bit of wilderness so to speak. Of course there are many exceptions, where the tent or trailer in the adjacent site is visible, but the aim seems to be to create a sense of the Canadian wilderness in the very crowded and congested campsites. From my perspective, they are successful.

Campsite #2, Old Foggy Distillery, Hampton, NB

There is an RV camping site called Harvest Hosts. The idea is that members can stay for one night with no charge at member-organisations. No services are provided. The places are usually breweries, distilleries, wineries, farms, and craft producers. We joined the organisation to test it out. It might be an option for other travel times. We had a night at Ole Foggy Distillery. The camping area, in the grassy backyard of the distillery, is where we found a pleasant, tidy corner of the yard for our campsite.

This was our first foray into no-service camping with Harvest Hosts. We were well received, with clear directions about where to go and the expectations of the host. That was an excellent start to this new-to-us concept.

The young man tending the bar at Ole Foggy was very accommodating. It was a rainy afternoon. Nigel had an errand in Quispamsis, a town nearby. I had some paperwork to complete, so I remained behind. I did not stay in the trailer. Instead I went to the bar, ordered a mocktail, and set to work. It was certainly a congenial atmosphere, and plenty of work was completed. There is a small craft store attached to the bar. It sells some very beautiful, good quality local and regional crafts. I was tempted, but with the long trip ahead I resisted making a purchase.

A couple of long-time friends made a plan to meet us for supper at a nearby restaurant. That was a pleasure, and one of the reasons why we stopped in Hampton – so those who could get here could visit us.

Camping without services is rather barren. We had some water in our water tank, so we could use all our amenities. The batter provided power. We had the basics. Because it was a public space, we were not comfortable putting out all the outside items (e.g. the BBQ), so moved around items that had to remain in the trailer overnight. It was not an issue because there is still enough space for the two of us (we are packed, but not overly packed). But, a tad tight and awkward. Overall, though, a good experience.

Campsite #3, Quispamsis, NB

We accepted an invitation from long-time friends, David and Elspeth Nickerson, to stay for the weekend. Our trailer was parked in their driveway. Granville the dog and OrangePekoe the cat followed their usual sleeping pattern – in their boxes in the car. That kept them with one familiar routine, which I think is good for animals. We, on the other hand, broke with the camping routine, and gratefully accepted the offer to sleep in the guest room. It was a much appreciated camp modification.

We went off for an afternoon boating on the Kennebecasis River with a couple of cousins. The Kennebecasis River is a major tributary to the St John River, the 673 km long water way that runs the north-to-south length of the western portion of the province. The Kennebecasis originates in Hamilton Lake, near Goshen, in the middle-southern portion of New Brunswick. It runs for 95 km, and opens into the Grand Bay, a wide spot in the St John River. A lively boat run, filled with conversation and laughter, was just the ticket to blow away the residual cobwebs from our preparations for the trip.

That process continued when we returned to Nickerson’s. Staying with friends also means plenty of conversation. It goes without saying that we spent hours chatting. Chatting is a key component of a good barbecue, and this was just that. We talked while David barbecued hamburgers, during our tasty meal, and into the night. Conversation carried on the next morning, when our cousin arrived for a visit with us. And so it was for the two days we were there – conversation and cooking and cool times.

The break from camping, this early in the trip, was a lovely respite. It was an opportunity to visit with cousins and friends, something we always enjoy.

Campsite #4, Municipal de la Pointe, Riviere du Loup, QC

We drove north from Quispamsis to Riviere du Loup on a rainy Monday. At times the rain was so heavy that it was difficult to see the road. Speed limits were much lower than those posted, for safety’s sake. As we drove along it, Nigel recounted many anecdotes about his days working on the stretch of road between Woodstock and Grand Falls (from 2005-2007). The rain was so heavy that we stopped at an Irving, somewhere just after Grand Falls for a break from the strain of driving in such inclement weather. That was a much needed rest. Refreshed, we continued on to Riviere-du-Loup, with brightening skies ahead of us.

The municipal campground was a delight. It was clean, orderly, and had a couple of roadways that were quite acceptable for walking with Granville the dog and OrangePekoe the cat. There was a viewing platform from which we could look out over the St Lawrence River. The common room had a fusball game, plus some puzzles and books for campers’ entertainment. WiFi was available everywhere, including at the campsites. The guard at the gate regularly drove around in a golf cart, checking what was happening in the campground. That vigilance was welcome, and likely is what keeps the place looking as good as it does. People tend to behave when they think someone is keeping an eye on them.

This was a commercial campground, so the campsites were very close together. This, from our experience, is typical of commercial sites. The close proximity means we all greet each other, but generally keep our own counsel. It’s a state of mind, an approach that makes it all work well, especially for brief stopovers.

Campsite # 5 Camping du Fjord, Baie Sainte Catherine, QC

This campground is located beside the very busy Highway 178, going north to Baie Comeau. The sound of traffic was audible because the sites are so close to the road. That being said, the sites, which are jammed together, typical of commercial campground, were quite acceptable. Rows of trees and shrubs between the campsites lend an air of privacy. Yet, they are close enough that there was a bit of camaraderie in the campground. That’s the joy of camping – the brief encounters with persons from other parts of Canada, and occasional persons from Europe.

Our experience of the commercial campground is that there tends to be more chat and bonhomie than at the national and provincial campgrounds. Maybe the visibility, seeing each other frequently, leads to that less stand-offish atmosphere. It is a subtle bonus for us, two people who are spending considerable time in each other’s company. We enjoy the brief conversations we have with other campers.

This campground had an auxiliary non-serviced camping area across the highway. From this extension area we could see up and down the St Lawrence River, and almost across to its southern coast. Those gorgeous views were the bonus of this campground.

Campsite # 6 Natur’eau Spa, Mandeville, QC

Campsite # 6 Natur’eau Spa, Mandeville, QC

pic of campsite

Our second Harvest Host camping area was a delight. Our first indication of its welcoming atmosphere was the cheerful assistance provided when we got twisted in the detour maze in Mandeville. Despite directions, the final leg of the trip meandered, along twisting country roads, taking what seemed extraordinary time. When we arrived at Natur’eau we were received with open arms, and the comment “I knew you’d be here about now.”

We were assigned a beautiful spot to put our trailer. One of the cabins was not booked for the night, so the manager said we should park there. It was a tad tricky backing the trailer down the steep, narrow driveway but Nigel made it look easy. And there we were, shaded by trees, with a pond nearby, and a cabin with an outside electric outlet that we used to give us power. What a delightful spot.

Natur’eau Spa offers a variety of the usual spa treatments and activities. We could have accessed them, but at the time we arrived, after a long drive, with two animals needing attention, and two tired humans, we decided we did not have enough time to enjoy what the spa had to offer. This was a shame, because a couple or three hours of whirlpools, Turkish baths, and saunas would have been perfect. Next time.

As soon as we turned onto the road to my cousins’, we both relaxed. Our shoulders dropped, and our breathing became more even, deeper.

’ve been coming to visit my cousin in Pontiac County for nearly five decades. She has lived in this particular house for many, many years. It’s an old farm house, with all the traits of those classic farm houses from the mid-1800s – wood-frame construction,

gabled roof,

multi-pane windows,

sloping stairs because the house has settled into its position,

a delightful double parlour,

a repurposed summer kitchen,

a front porch,

a back stoop.

My cousin has created a screen porch which is an extremely comfortable place to relax for three seasons of the year. It is unheated, so in winter the room is not quite as accommodating. Nigel enjoyed reading the wide selection of magazines here.

The yard is full of mature flower gardens,

a vegetable garden,

and a pumpkin patch. A giant pumpkin grows there every year. Sometimes it is a prize-winner, sometimes it gets honourable mention at the annual competitions. The pumpkin is in early stages of growth during this visit.

Scattered around the yard are several seating areas

including a welcoming patio area from which visitors can enjoy the view over the back yard.

The Laurentian Shield Pre-Cambrian rocks extrude here, adding ancient undulations and a geographic bas-relief to the landscape.

My cousin has supplemented that natural sculpture with whimsical garden sculptures of her selection. In the gardens

at unexpected spots around the yard,

and supplementing the grace of the small fountain and pond.

And on the walls

When thunderstorms and lashing rain are in the forecast, the area still shines a welcome.

It is everything a traveller could want. We thoroughly enjoy a visit here – good conversation, very tasty food, and time with cousins.

Plus, memories of visits during years past are rekindled. Some years ago, during a visit to Canada, Catriona and two of her cousins posed for a snapshot on the back stoop. The smiles reflect the continuing pleasure that we all get from a visit to this warm and welcoming house. That includes those who grew up here and those who temporarily pause here.

When we left Baie Ste Catherine, we zoomed through Quebec, with a stopover before our last destination in La Belle Province.

Snapshots taken through the window fail to do justice to this beautiful province. They do provide a tantalising, and slightly blurred glimpse of what there is to see and do in Quebec.

Of course, being summer, there was construction at many points.

We just took it all in stride. It was the hill gradient signs that had us intrigued. This one shows a range of gradients on the pending hill.

The minimum gradient that we saw was 6%, the maximum was 12%. That was a 12% drop over 500 m. It was a steep hill.
I did mange to snap a picture of an 11% gradient.

There were several advisory roadside signs. This one was amusing.

Quebec seems to fully support its agriculture sector. There are road signs proudly indicating farming areas.

The rows of power lines running for kilometres indicate the importance given to that supporting branch of the industrial sector.

Our drive along Highway 40 was punctuated by glimpses of the St Lawrence River on one side,

and pastoral landscapes on the other.

The length of our trip from Saguenay to Pontiac County, including an overnight stop en route, was an attractive drive that included a quick glimpse of Sanctuaire Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupre,

Montmorency Falls.

and eventually the Gatineau Hills, which meant we were getting close to our destination.

Pontiac County is predominantly an agricultural area, with fields and farmhouses.

a fine place to pause for a couple of days.

Saguenay Fjord is best seen from the water. From that viewpoint we could fully appreciate the steep-sloped, high sides of the fjord. The Saguenay Fjord was formed when two geological faults let a huge block of rock fall down, creating a flat-bottomed depression between the mountains. Glaciation during the ice ages further carved the shape through the rocks, and left behind a silt and rock bottom. We were interested in the landscape surrounding the water, those fabulous, ancient, weathered mountains of the Laurentian Shield.

We chose to travel from Tadoussac, at the mouth of the Saguenay Fjord, to L’anse-Saint-Jean, a small tourist village part way up the fjord. Basically, we followed the dotted line on this map.

Our boat, the window-covered, blue-hulled Cap Liberté, pulled in to dock to collect the tourists en route for a day trip on the fjord.

We found seats near the front of the cabin, and were off on the day’s adventure.

We were barely around the headland when we were greeted by an embankment of the classic igneous rock cliffs.

This view was replicated for the duration of the boat trip to L’Anse-Saint-Jean. The Saguenay graben reveals the best of the Laurentian Shield – Pre-Cambrian rock sheer-cut out of the mountains, coupled with promontories of the same early rock. The slate grey igneous rock absorbed the light, creating dark swathes of irregular patterns, showing little relief more than an occasional undulation in the rock face.

Coniferous trees, typical of the Boreal Forest of this region, clambered up the rock faces, finding toeholds in the scantest bit of dirt. It provided an effect of a magnificent bas-relief sculpture.

We, being a surveyor and a geographer, were enthralled with the landscape. The combination of water and rock was mesmerising. We remained on the back deck of the Cap Liberté, drinking in the atmosphere, enjoying the view and the experience,

getting windblown and taking photographs. The full experience!

Outside, our guide pointed out an interesting landform. What looked like two banks of mountains held a valley between them. This was the Sainte-Marguerite River valley, a beautiful river valley where we had enjoyed a lunchtime picnic yesterday. The Sainte-Marguerite River runs, essentially, parallel to the Saguenay River for about 60 kilometres before it makes a turn and opens into Sainte-Marguerite Bay. We felt very privileged to see the upper echelons, the mountain ridges that surround this river valley, from the waterside. It gave us two perspectives of a significant landform in this region, something geographers and surveyors appreciate.

Occasionally we went back inside the glass dome to gather our faculties. And from there, we noticed something interesting, especially to Nigel. Nigel spent several years in several countries surveying powerlines. Over his shoulder we spotted very large power-line pylons.

These were part of a thoroughfare of 735-kV transmission  power lines, built by Hydro-Quebec, and moving electric power from the northern part of the province to the middle and southern part of the province.

More details are here: https://www.hydroquebec.com/data/projets/ligne-micoua-saguenay/pdf/bulletin-info-generale-avril.pdf

The construction of these huge power highways began in the 1960s. The lines loop across the Saguenay Fjord, dipping to about 70 metres above water level on their nearly 2 kilometre span. Of course the power-line surveyor was busy observing and taking photographs.

The power pylons hold tremendous tension, and our guide said they were checked frequently. That makes sense, because they are crucial to daily life – industrial and domestic – in Quebec. At one point there was a single power pylon. It seemed that each cable went to an anchor, and then branched off to its own power pylon.

Nigel found this very intriguing, but could garner no further, specific information from our guide. We are left with a mystery to investigate at some point, should the interest remain.

Our tour stopped at L’Anse-Saint-Jean. This is a tourist village, whose main objective is to serve tourist interests. It was founded in 1838 by a group of businessmen (lumber and investors). In keeping with the tourist focus, there is a well-equipped kayaking activity centre on the shore.

It seemed popular. There were kayakers paddling in a group activity in the bay.

Of course a tourist town always has an ice-cream parlour. We partook of that pleasure. We each had a soft-swirl cone dipped in dark chocolate. I don’t know why, but ice cream and chocolate decorate our faces. Always happens. No matter what the age of the consumer.

Tourist towns, especially in active Quebec, also have small marinas. This one was full of lovely, medium-sized sailboats.

We admired them while waiting for the Cap Liberté to collect us for the return journey to Tadoussac, via a renown statue, the Notre-Dame du Saguenay, located at Le cap Trinité. The 9 metre statue is perched about 180 metres above the Saguenay River. It is made of wood, clad in lead to protect it from the elements. It is painted the classic white typical of statues of the Virgin Mary. From our position on the water, the statue seemed minuscule above us, and nearly invisible, camouflaged as it was by the white clouds behind it.

The statue has an interesting story. Apparently a man was crossing the Saguenay River on an ice road one winter day. He and his wagon plus its team fell through the ice. He prayed to the Virgin Mary to save him. She did. He and his wagon team plus his wagon all survived the accident. In gratitude, he commissioned this statue. It was set atop Cap Trinité. to keep watch over the Saguenay, and to remind people to say a prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary.

Tour ships in the early half of the 20^th century stopped here and played the tune Ave Maria while their passengers admired the statue. In tribute, our boat the Cap Liberté, played Ave Maria. The statue, perched atop Cap Trinité remained calm serene, and rooted to her position while we, below, admired the concept and the emotions that such an item can bestir in the viewer.

We started back towards Tadoussac, following the rocky shore,

revisiting the rows of power pylons,

while briefly braving the light drizzle and breeze that seemed to arrive suddenly.

It was an inspired decision to move inside the glass dome, or maybe the Virgin Mary was answering our prayer and watching out for us. We were barely seated when suddenly the skies opened, and the rain fell in torrents.

Our view was obscured by the rain sheeting the windows.

This continued almost all the way back downstream. But, it was fine because it gave us a quiet, contemplative hour or so to mull over all that we had seen on this fjord tour – magnificent, classic Canadian geographic scenes, contemporary recreational activities such as kayaking, canoeing, and long-distance hiking, based on day-to-day activities from our past, and a link with our country’s history when church and daily life intermingled and statues of thanksgiving were erected in many remote locations. We felt vigour and enthusiasm for the Canadian mosaic, in both its physical and cultural presentations.

Our day-long trip began with a ferry ride, crossing near the mouth of the Saguenay Fjord. The Baie-Sainte-Catherine to Tadoussac ferry crossing takes about 10 minutes. The service is frequent. The ferry runs 24/7. The ferry holds about 100 vehicles, with a couple of upper level loading areas. We were sent to the upper level.

This provided us with a wide view up and down the fjord, including a lucky passing of the two ferries mid-crossing.

The Saguenay Fjord is one of Canada’s scenic wonders.
It is a rift valley, or graben, formed during the PreCambrian geological era. A long time ago. What apparently happened is that two faults formed, and an elongated landmass fell down between the fault lines. There is supposition that this happened at about the same time as the Atlantic Ocean was formed. Subsequently, during the ice age, glaciation pushed the valley down further emphasising the classic fjord shape, a long, narrow inlet with steep sides and a flat bottom and a bit of a shoal at the mouth.

The Saguenay Fjord is 106 kilometres long, between 2-4 kilometres wide, and about 200 metres deep. The deepest point is apparently 270 metres deep. The mouth of the fjord is only about 20 metres deep, forming a sill that creates an interesting mix of water.

The drive around Saguenay Fjord is a long drive – 134 km from Baie-Sainte-Catherine to Chicoutimi, driving along Route 172, up the east side of the Saguenay Fjord. This road is a classic ‘tree tunnel’ – a road wending its way through rows of trees on each side.

This tree tunnel had some interesting landscape – the Laurentian Mountains in their rounded, weathered glory were always in sight. Mountains often seem to block a view. These added to it, with their banks of coniferous and deciduous trees marching up the slopes.

The Laurentian Mountains are possibly the oldest mountains on Earth. They extend from Labrador to northern Ontario, the vanguard of the Canadian Shield, which is the largest area of exposed Pre-Cambrian rock on Earth. A significan geological region characterised by the boreal forest, boggy areas, and peaty brown rivers flowing across rocky beds and through deep ravines.

The Ste Marguerite River is a fine example of a Laurentian river. From its source, about 100 kilometres inland, it flows parallel to the Saguenay Fjord until it opens into the Baie Sainte Marguerite about 25 kilometres north of the mouth of the fjord. We were pleased to find a viewpoint, at the Pont-Louis-Gravel.

The bridge was built in 1934, and has been rebuild a couple of times. That it remains a viable, functional covered bridge is commendable, and speaks to the interest and concern for historic architecture features in this area. Covered bridges were built for a couple of centuries, from the early 1800s. The roof was designed to protect the wooden bridge from the weather, especially the snow and ice which quickly erode and degrade bridges. While many of Canada’s covered bridges have fallen into disrepair, and been replaced with contemporary steel and concrete structures, there are a handful of these iconic Canadian features still standing. They are as fascinating inside as outside, because the inner supports vary slightly from bridge to bridge. This one had some strong supports, visible to the naked eye.

Slightly further upstream, we stopped for a lunch break at a roadside lay-by on our route. This ‘halte-routiere’ beside Lac Résimond had a narrow, rough, overgrown path down to a narrow beach. I suspect we were supposed to admire the view from the lay-by, but determined people (like us) made our way down to the beach beside the largest lake on the Sainte-Marguerite River system.

We four enjoyed our picnic and recreation time here.

Granville,

OrangePekoe

and the two of us.

It was a short, but welcome break. Maybe not so short, because we were puttering around this beautiful place for nearly an hour. Construction, a favourite summer activity in Canada, caused us to stop a few times, which gave us pause to admire the view visible out the windows rather than glimpse it as we drove past. The road followed la réserve aquatique de la Vallée-de-la-Rivière-Sainte-Marguerite. Frequently the river was almost close enough to touch.

After another 50 kilometres or so, we reached the 458 metre long concrete and steel Dubuc Bridge that spans the Saguenay River at Chicoutimi. The view upriver was spectacular.

We completed our errand in Chicoutimi, then headed back towards Baie-Sainte-Catherine along Route 170, down the west side of the Saguenay Fjord. We paused for a rest-break at roadside parkette just after Grand-Baie. Quebec seems to excel at pretty roadside lay-bys.

This small park was grassy, shady, and had a beautiful view along the Saguenay River. There was another vehicle parked in the lay-by, and a couple were enjoying a picnic lunch. Just exactly what pretty lay-bys are designed to provide-space for a quiet rest and maybe a picnic.

Out on the Saguenay River, we spotted a woman and her dog enjoying a gentle paddle on a paddle-board. Just the sort of recreational activity people living beside a river can enjoy. Quebecers seem to make the most of their recreational activities because everywhere we saw people with bicycles, paddleboards, windsurfers, and sailboats enjoying all recreational activities that this spectacular areas offers.

Route 170 provided, as expected, more views of the Laurentian Mountains receeding into the background. The road undulated with steep hills and windy curves – a motorcyclists dream ride according to Nigel, who rode motorcycles in his youth.

After about 140 kilometres of hills and trees, there was an opening through which we spotted the mighty Saint Lawrence River in the distance. The village at that junction with the river San Simeon, and from there we needed to drive another 35 km alongside the St Lawrence towards Baie-Sainte-Catherine.

And after a full day of visual pleasure, we were back to our simple campsite at Ranch et Camping du Fjord. Replete.