Safely into Canada, Stewbert and I grabbed Highway 17 east, toward Ottawa. This being the third time I have put on extensive miles in Canada, I still am unsure how to take our northerly neighbor.
On one hand, the scenery is spectacular. Highway 17 climbs, dives and curves around rock outcrops, swampy marshland and endless pine and birch wood forests. Scenic outlooks of untouched lakeshore are never far off the road, and inviting small towns break the monotony of an otherwise endless drive. As we cruised along at 65 mph, I caught the occasional whiff of fresh wood smoke, like ash smoldering quietly in a campsite. This is the most elemental fragrance of the outdoors, and I found myself closing my eyes as I inhaled, just to take it in.
Conversely, even this seemingly untouched part of Canada has an uninspiring touristy vibe to it. Pine forests are punctuated by tacky billboards advertising plasticized destinations - "Frozen Beneath - you'll be shocked!" or, my personal favorite: "HOW Convenient Indian gifts and souvenirs," with special emphasis on the "HOW." I felt as compelled to stop as I would if I saw a billboard, "Cracker Barrel - bring all your white friends!"
At any rate, thanks to a couple unintended side trips, including Stewbert and me visiting a "beach" on Lake Huron that looked more like a peat bog (complete with strewn garbage, beer cans and a trailer right next door), we have stopped for the night just outside Ottawa, thereby concluding Day 2 of our journey. I think, honestly, my favorite part of Canada thus far is the people. Folks, this is a country where when you pull up to a gas station, a smiling attendant runs out, primes the pump and strikes up friendly conversation as he or she fills your tank. Amazing.
- Dan Wegmueller writes a weekly column for the Times, and an annual journal from his summer motorcycle trip. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net
On one hand, the scenery is spectacular. Highway 17 climbs, dives and curves around rock outcrops, swampy marshland and endless pine and birch wood forests. Scenic outlooks of untouched lakeshore are never far off the road, and inviting small towns break the monotony of an otherwise endless drive. As we cruised along at 65 mph, I caught the occasional whiff of fresh wood smoke, like ash smoldering quietly in a campsite. This is the most elemental fragrance of the outdoors, and I found myself closing my eyes as I inhaled, just to take it in.
Conversely, even this seemingly untouched part of Canada has an uninspiring touristy vibe to it. Pine forests are punctuated by tacky billboards advertising plasticized destinations - "Frozen Beneath - you'll be shocked!" or, my personal favorite: "HOW Convenient Indian gifts and souvenirs," with special emphasis on the "HOW." I felt as compelled to stop as I would if I saw a billboard, "Cracker Barrel - bring all your white friends!"
At any rate, thanks to a couple unintended side trips, including Stewbert and me visiting a "beach" on Lake Huron that looked more like a peat bog (complete with strewn garbage, beer cans and a trailer right next door), we have stopped for the night just outside Ottawa, thereby concluding Day 2 of our journey. I think, honestly, my favorite part of Canada thus far is the people. Folks, this is a country where when you pull up to a gas station, a smiling attendant runs out, primes the pump and strikes up friendly conversation as he or she fills your tank. Amazing.
- Dan Wegmueller writes a weekly column for the Times, and an annual journal from his summer motorcycle trip. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net