Photo by Jeremy Taylor
Adelaide Street, North It was a bright and sunny morning as I pointed the car toward Adelaide Street, North. I gripped the steering wheel, and sped off leaving the airy dust of London floating behind me like left-over fireworks. The roof was down on the car and my hair was blowing around like a Dutch windmill gone mad! The swirling pieces of my hair were smacking every inch of my face as each individual hair stood straight up then sharply slammed itself against my youthful, tender, skin. It was not a pretty sight, but there was no way I was putting the roof up on the car.
My first stop was in Palmerston to visit Engine 81. She is one of the hundred, 2-6-0, mogul locomotive twins to Engine 86, who stands in Queens Park in London. Each was built in Kingston in 1910.
As I was studying the No Trespassing sign, which is so clearly posted to scare-off anyone considering climbing onto on the train, three young men, who appeared to be around 16 years old, beat me to the iron steps, and scaled the heights landing themselves in the Engine room. I didn’t want to look like I was an old cougar chasing after well built, handsome young men, so I reached up towards one of them and passed him my camera. I asked him to take some photos of the engine for me. He asked why, so I gave him a brief history of the train, its twin in London, and named a few parts of the structure for him. He smiled and took the shots for me. As he passed my camera back he said, “I love you.” I replied, “I love you too.” He smiled and scooted off with his buddies to sit atop the back-end of the tender and stare at the young girls on the nearest park bench. I think he had been practicing his words on me trying to buff-up enough courage to say them to the girl on the bench, with the pink hair.
The citizens of Palmerston have done a lovely job maintaining the locomotive and tender. The duo is located in a beautiful park, all parts are nicely painted and the number plate is even the correct colours.
My first stop was in Palmerston to visit Engine 81. She is one of the hundred, 2-6-0, mogul locomotive twins to Engine 86, who stands in Queens Park in London. Each was built in Kingston in 1910.
As I was studying the No Trespassing sign, which is so clearly posted to scare-off anyone considering climbing onto on the train, three young men, who appeared to be around 16 years old, beat me to the iron steps, and scaled the heights landing themselves in the Engine room. I didn’t want to look like I was an old cougar chasing after well built, handsome young men, so I reached up towards one of them and passed him my camera. I asked him to take some photos of the engine for me. He asked why, so I gave him a brief history of the train, its twin in London, and named a few parts of the structure for him. He smiled and took the shots for me. As he passed my camera back he said, “I love you.” I replied, “I love you too.” He smiled and scooted off with his buddies to sit atop the back-end of the tender and stare at the young girls on the nearest park bench. I think he had been practicing his words on me trying to buff-up enough courage to say them to the girl on the bench, with the pink hair.
The citizens of Palmerston have done a lovely job maintaining the locomotive and tender. The duo is located in a beautiful park, all parts are nicely painted and the number plate is even the correct colours.
The old house By the time I had reached Wasaga Beach all the Nanook winds of the north had gushed over my windshield sculpting my hair into a dead ringer of a yard-sale whirligig being held in the mouth of a limping baby Harp seal sporting a broken flipper. My hosts, the Taylors, never mentioned the appearance of my hair however, later though, as Carolyn hugged me, for some reason she mentioned that the hair dryer was duct-taped to the bathroom wall. Perhaps she was worried that the tape would grab my hair as I walked by and I would forever, like an Egyptian goddess, be entombed... but in this case it would be in the loo!
I haven’t seen the Taylors for many years and we had a great reunion. All the boys and spouses who live in the province visited to say hello, and give hugs, and jump up and down. Some of them stared at me for five minutes! We had a fun filled night of silly memories and laughter. Late in the night I received a text message from friend Karen, stating that she was able to join us at the beach, and would leave London for Wasaga Beach in the early morning of the next day, on her motorcycle.
Let's back up a little bit here - When I moved to Wasaga Beach sometime in the late 70’s, the population of the village was 4,700 and the town had one traffic light; to which you didn't really pay much attention. A few years later, the town council installed a new traffic light down by the Beckers store at Sunningdale Road. Everyone was in an uproar about it. Nobody wanted to be inconvenienced with actually having to stop their vehicle at the intersection. So the council put it on Blink, and you didn’t really have to stop, you just kind-of glanced around a little then swooshed through.
When I left the beach to come back to London, in 1991, the population was 6,244. The village was still small enough that you waved to everyone you passed and you knew everybody’s business. Jimmy the garbage man helped us move. Barry's mom was our mail lady. Eric was the most knowledgable Unix System man in all the county. Joy and Brian ran Videoflicks and when they weren't too busy with work they would invite the customers home for dinner. You could buy fishing bait at the motel on the corner, and if your car broke down in the winter people were lined up with their skidoos to give you a ride home.
Today the town of Wasaga Beach is 18,000, which makes it over-qualify to be called a Town. On Saturday morning I had a personal self-directed tour through the now, Town of Wasaga Beach. I looked at the sands of the Silvercrest school. Sand only now, one portable and the big tree. The rest of the school is gone. Maybe it was built on quick sand and the building sank deeply into the warmth of the earth, but miraculously, like a phoenix, a church, arose from the ashes. The toboggan slide hill at the back of the property is still there but it seems to be a lot smaller, or my memory is larger, or perhaps skewed. The beautiful forest on Hwy 92 has been replaced by a rather large photosynthesis-free Walmart. The tiny, but ever present Big K Restaurant at the other end of town has been replaced by an omnipotent Superstore. (The Big K Restaurant was never open anyhow!) But the most noticeable horror of the town, is the number of traffic lights and stop signs. I lost count after seven, or was it nine, maybe it was 11. I had to stop at all of them, there was no swooshing. And the stop signs that are posted at every corner of the beach outnumber the starving seagulls looking for Macdonald's french fries at the main beach.
Of course, I drove down Ansley Road to see the old house. It actually looks very good except for the fact that while the house is still brown, the shutters are now blue. The deck we built is in wonderful condition, including the porch swing. The trees are huge and the grass is real. ,In the olden days, our days, 25 years ago, we had real grass too; it was beach grass. Now the grass is city grass; it has a lot of colour but less character.
I haven’t seen the Taylors for many years and we had a great reunion. All the boys and spouses who live in the province visited to say hello, and give hugs, and jump up and down. Some of them stared at me for five minutes! We had a fun filled night of silly memories and laughter. Late in the night I received a text message from friend Karen, stating that she was able to join us at the beach, and would leave London for Wasaga Beach in the early morning of the next day, on her motorcycle.
Let's back up a little bit here - When I moved to Wasaga Beach sometime in the late 70’s, the population of the village was 4,700 and the town had one traffic light; to which you didn't really pay much attention. A few years later, the town council installed a new traffic light down by the Beckers store at Sunningdale Road. Everyone was in an uproar about it. Nobody wanted to be inconvenienced with actually having to stop their vehicle at the intersection. So the council put it on Blink, and you didn’t really have to stop, you just kind-of glanced around a little then swooshed through.
When I left the beach to come back to London, in 1991, the population was 6,244. The village was still small enough that you waved to everyone you passed and you knew everybody’s business. Jimmy the garbage man helped us move. Barry's mom was our mail lady. Eric was the most knowledgable Unix System man in all the county. Joy and Brian ran Videoflicks and when they weren't too busy with work they would invite the customers home for dinner. You could buy fishing bait at the motel on the corner, and if your car broke down in the winter people were lined up with their skidoos to give you a ride home.
Today the town of Wasaga Beach is 18,000, which makes it over-qualify to be called a Town. On Saturday morning I had a personal self-directed tour through the now, Town of Wasaga Beach. I looked at the sands of the Silvercrest school. Sand only now, one portable and the big tree. The rest of the school is gone. Maybe it was built on quick sand and the building sank deeply into the warmth of the earth, but miraculously, like a phoenix, a church, arose from the ashes. The toboggan slide hill at the back of the property is still there but it seems to be a lot smaller, or my memory is larger, or perhaps skewed. The beautiful forest on Hwy 92 has been replaced by a rather large photosynthesis-free Walmart. The tiny, but ever present Big K Restaurant at the other end of town has been replaced by an omnipotent Superstore. (The Big K Restaurant was never open anyhow!) But the most noticeable horror of the town, is the number of traffic lights and stop signs. I lost count after seven, or was it nine, maybe it was 11. I had to stop at all of them, there was no swooshing. And the stop signs that are posted at every corner of the beach outnumber the starving seagulls looking for Macdonald's french fries at the main beach.
Of course, I drove down Ansley Road to see the old house. It actually looks very good except for the fact that while the house is still brown, the shutters are now blue. The deck we built is in wonderful condition, including the porch swing. The trees are huge and the grass is real. ,In the olden days, our days, 25 years ago, we had real grass too; it was beach grass. Now the grass is city grass; it has a lot of colour but less character.
Karen's arrival After a five-hour ride on her motorcycle, Karen arrived around 1:00 in the afternoon. Once introductions were made, we had a wonderful one-armed-cook-Taylor-made lunch and then were on our way, to tour. Our first stop was Allenwood Beach so Karen could see the tremendous view over to Collingwood. Although as we were driving to Allenwood, a heavy fog rolled in so Karen doesn't believe that Collingwood is actually visible. Look at the picture below and see if you can see the terminals at the horizon!
Where?
A weekend in Wasaga isn’t complete without a trip over to Big Chute. Big Chute has always been my happy place! It’s takes about an hour to get there, but if you’re in a convertible, with the roof down, chatting with a good friend, as incredible scenery fills your vision while it lingers casually along the roadside, you don’t even notice the time. Besides, you get to drive through places named: Moonstone, Sturgeon Bay, Waubaushene and Fesserton. How great is that?
Travelling with Karen is like travelling with a good luck charm. When you need something to happen, a person just needs to say it out loud to her, and it happens! This happened many times when we were in Italy, and it happened this weekend; right there at Big Chute! When I said “I hope there are some boats ready to use the Chute”, there were boats! And they were the only boats in this part of the Trent-Severn Waterway! One boat at the bottom and the other at the top! We watched each go the other way all the while admiring the sheer genius of the marine rail system. We doddled around for a while after, visited the tourist centre, climbed over the old system and carefully stepped around loads of poison ivy. We were on our way again in the car, by shear chance, and by the beauty of the lake beside us as we sped along, we stopped at Lock 45. This is the Swing Bridge Lock. We watched as two rather large boats were closed inside the lock and the flood gates were opened on the lower lake side. The water fiercely changed levels in seconds! Were we ever surprised when we noticed that the boat we had watched on the marine rail at Big Chute, 20 minutes earlier, was now going through Lock 45! We waved to the people on the boat like they were long lost cousins, and they waved back. But I don't know if they knew they were waving at the same goofy people who had waved to them one Lock back! One of the boats coming through the lock, was so large that it required that the Swing Bridge swing itself out of the way so the boat could pass. It was very cool to watch.
Travelling with Karen is like travelling with a good luck charm. When you need something to happen, a person just needs to say it out loud to her, and it happens! This happened many times when we were in Italy, and it happened this weekend; right there at Big Chute! When I said “I hope there are some boats ready to use the Chute”, there were boats! And they were the only boats in this part of the Trent-Severn Waterway! One boat at the bottom and the other at the top! We watched each go the other way all the while admiring the sheer genius of the marine rail system. We doddled around for a while after, visited the tourist centre, climbed over the old system and carefully stepped around loads of poison ivy. We were on our way again in the car, by shear chance, and by the beauty of the lake beside us as we sped along, we stopped at Lock 45. This is the Swing Bridge Lock. We watched as two rather large boats were closed inside the lock and the flood gates were opened on the lower lake side. The water fiercely changed levels in seconds! Were we ever surprised when we noticed that the boat we had watched on the marine rail at Big Chute, 20 minutes earlier, was now going through Lock 45! We waved to the people on the boat like they were long lost cousins, and they waved back. But I don't know if they knew they were waving at the same goofy people who had waved to them one Lock back! One of the boats coming through the lock, was so large that it required that the Swing Bridge swing itself out of the way so the boat could pass. It was very cool to watch.
We headed back to the Taylors and wrapped up the night with dinner, a sunset and the most incredible sing-along. Three Martin guitars, one ukulele, one piano, six singers and various glasses of wine. If you named the song... we thought we could play it! It actually came together packed with fun, the correct notes most of the time and some amazing harmony. Karen and I sat in awe as we enjoyed the music that was filling the room; the natural beauty of the spring landscape that was surrounding us within arm's reach right outside the windows, and the happiness in every melodic note. It was easy, natural, fun and moving. Jeanette, the pianist ... was... well... simply amazing.
Karen and I loaded up the bike and car to head home. We made one important lunch stop so one of us could explore...
Karen and Friend
I am home now, it's 2:30 am, Sunday morning. Wendy, Doug, Brittany, Christine and I spent late Saturday evening at the Observatory at Western University, where we looked through various telescopes to see the rings of Saturn, Jupiter with its four moons that were discovered by Galileo, Antares, and a Globule cluster made up over over 300,000 stars.
Thank you Eli, Lani, Eli's friend, Laurie, Carolyn, Jason, Jeremy, Jeanette, Wendy, Doug, Brittany, Christine, Galileo and Karen for a most amazing weekend.
I don't know how this weekend could possibly have been any better.
~sigh~
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Thank you Eli, Lani, Eli's friend, Laurie, Carolyn, Jason, Jeremy, Jeanette, Wendy, Doug, Brittany, Christine, Galileo and Karen for a most amazing weekend.
I don't know how this weekend could possibly have been any better.
~sigh~
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