After a successful road trip to Calgary back in July we set off again last week for Part II of our sunny summer odyssey, a wedding in Whitby.
The family wedding was our prime objective but just like on our recent journey across the prairies, I was looking for some genuine Canadiana.
I wanted this vacation to be a real Canadian experience.
As it turned out, I got everything I was looking for, and then some. This trip had it all – world class scenery, adventure, romance and then suddenly, sadly, we were bombarded with nostalgia and a sense of loss. Here’s what happened.
When we left Thunder Bay it was sunny and warm. It was a great day for driving the North Shore. We were full of expectation.
A few kilometres down the road we encountered “the twinning,” a notorious stretch of highway with an alarming number of impatient, aggressive and stupid drivers carelessly operating a variety of vehicles at dangerously high speeds.We were lucky to make it through alive.
In my experience the nightmare ride between Thunder Bay and Nipigon is a brush with death at the best of times. I’ve seen the worst of the worst on this highway to hell. This is the birthplace of offensive driving.
With all due respect to Michael Gravelle and his twinning mission, a new highway will not improve safety as long as the province keeps licensing drivers with a death wish.
There are many dangerous drivers on the road and some of them seem to be trying to kill me.Was it something I wrote?
We pressed on past the north shore communities, stopping instead at roadside stops to stretch our legs, have a sandwich and enjoy the view.
Some were right along the shore of Lake Superior and every stop was a new adventure.
We were in four different provinces this summer and Ontario is the unanimous choice for best rest stops, especially along the North Shore.
The most striking feature is the concrete bunker style technology used to construct the toilets.
Many Canadian travellers start their days with a coffee and a muffin and they don’t get far down the road before they need a place to stop for a comfort break. Under these circumstances everybody appreciates the added comfort and security of a concrete platform.
To call those things outhouses is an insult to toilet technology.
I was happy to see my tax dollars being put to such good use. We met many other Canadians at various roadside stops along the way who seemed equally happy, if not content.
The ride to Whitby was a series of short picnics beside the Trans Canada Highway. We spent the first night in Iron Bridge and by the afternoon of the second day we pulled into Whitby.
It was a fashionable backyard wedding beside the pool. The weather was perfect. The bride was beautiful. A fine time was had by all.
The day came and went like a whirlwind and there was hardly a chance to speak to so many good friends and family members.
It was the second family wedding in two months so there were two sets of newlyweds gazing into each others’ eyes.
There was plenty of romance and happiness to go around.
The photos were circulating for a couple of days and the memories were fresh and alive.
We got the news about Jack the day before we had to leave. It really took the wind out of our sails and suddenly we weren’t looking forward to the long, lonely ride home.
Jack’s face was on every front page and his voice filled the airwaves. Not surprisingly the weather was gloomy, dreary and rainy.
At times we were barely moving because of heavy fog.
By the time we got to Wawa we were feeling a little gloomy ourselves after four attempts to find food and lodging for the night.
Finally, a cheerful woman named Anna welcomed us like long lost friends and put us up in a rustic log cabin.
We fell asleep to the smell of wood smoke. Pure Canadiana, eh?
A few hours’ drive the next day would take us home.
In the meantime, we paused to reflect on recent events as we gazed out over Superior. Jack would have wanted it that way.
I never thought I would say it but on this trip we got a little more Canadiana than we bargained for.
The family wedding was our prime objective but just like on our recent journey across the prairies, I was looking for some genuine Canadiana.
I wanted this vacation to be a real Canadian experience.
As it turned out, I got everything I was looking for, and then some. This trip had it all – world class scenery, adventure, romance and then suddenly, sadly, we were bombarded with nostalgia and a sense of loss. Here’s what happened.
When we left Thunder Bay it was sunny and warm. It was a great day for driving the North Shore. We were full of expectation.
A few kilometres down the road we encountered “the twinning,” a notorious stretch of highway with an alarming number of impatient, aggressive and stupid drivers carelessly operating a variety of vehicles at dangerously high speeds.We were lucky to make it through alive.
In my experience the nightmare ride between Thunder Bay and Nipigon is a brush with death at the best of times. I’ve seen the worst of the worst on this highway to hell. This is the birthplace of offensive driving.
With all due respect to Michael Gravelle and his twinning mission, a new highway will not improve safety as long as the province keeps licensing drivers with a death wish.
There are many dangerous drivers on the road and some of them seem to be trying to kill me.Was it something I wrote?
We pressed on past the north shore communities, stopping instead at roadside stops to stretch our legs, have a sandwich and enjoy the view.
Some were right along the shore of Lake Superior and every stop was a new adventure.
We were in four different provinces this summer and Ontario is the unanimous choice for best rest stops, especially along the North Shore.
The most striking feature is the concrete bunker style technology used to construct the toilets.
Many Canadian travellers start their days with a coffee and a muffin and they don’t get far down the road before they need a place to stop for a comfort break. Under these circumstances everybody appreciates the added comfort and security of a concrete platform.
To call those things outhouses is an insult to toilet technology.
I was happy to see my tax dollars being put to such good use. We met many other Canadians at various roadside stops along the way who seemed equally happy, if not content.
The ride to Whitby was a series of short picnics beside the Trans Canada Highway. We spent the first night in Iron Bridge and by the afternoon of the second day we pulled into Whitby.
It was a fashionable backyard wedding beside the pool. The weather was perfect. The bride was beautiful. A fine time was had by all.
The day came and went like a whirlwind and there was hardly a chance to speak to so many good friends and family members.
It was the second family wedding in two months so there were two sets of newlyweds gazing into each others’ eyes.
There was plenty of romance and happiness to go around.
The photos were circulating for a couple of days and the memories were fresh and alive.
We got the news about Jack the day before we had to leave. It really took the wind out of our sails and suddenly we weren’t looking forward to the long, lonely ride home.
Jack’s face was on every front page and his voice filled the airwaves. Not surprisingly the weather was gloomy, dreary and rainy.
At times we were barely moving because of heavy fog.
By the time we got to Wawa we were feeling a little gloomy ourselves after four attempts to find food and lodging for the night.
Finally, a cheerful woman named Anna welcomed us like long lost friends and put us up in a rustic log cabin.
We fell asleep to the smell of wood smoke. Pure Canadiana, eh?
A few hours’ drive the next day would take us home.
In the meantime, we paused to reflect on recent events as we gazed out over Superior. Jack would have wanted it that way.
I never thought I would say it but on this trip we got a little more Canadiana than we bargained for.
