On and Off the Beaten Path

Great Lakes: Ontario and Huron

The first article in a series on a month-long trip in our new camper. 

“Adventures with Mr. Worry.”

 By Carole Bell Ford

View of Toronto and the CN Tower.

We have a new camper, a Coachmen. Not new really, but only three years old. We finally had to give up our old 1989 Winnebago Warrior, which we loved. We, my husband Steve and I, don’t love this one yet but it is, to us, the height of luxury. It has an actual bed, not just a bunk over the cab. It has a stove with an oven (and had a microwave until we removed it, since I thought I could live without one on a camping trip). It has a fridge with a zero freezer. Lots of storage space. And a separate bathroom and shower. It has a hookup and antenna for a TV, (which we also decided we can do without when we’re in our “get away” mode). And it even has hookups for a computer, which I admit, we can’t seem to do without.  

This is no one’s idea of actual camping, we’re not exactly roughing it. But we’ve become spoiled over the past ten years of meandering around the country in our little house.   

The new camper performed very well for a 4,000 mile loop, following the coastlines of Lakes Ontario and Huron in Canada, then down to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, across Wisconsin to Minneapolis, south for about 150 miles along the Mississippi River which defines Minnesota and Iowa’s eastern borders, and into Illinois. Then east through Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania. We finally completed the circle by turning north again to New York and home. All this in one month: October. 

On the first trip in our old camper I re-christened it from “Warrior” to “Worrier” after  I began teasing Steve with the name of a character in the English series of “Mr. Men” books for children: Mr. Grumpy, Mr. Brave, Mr. Noisy, Mr. Nonsense, etc. You get the idea. He is, of course, Mr. Worry. 

I don’t want to be unfair. Whenever you buy a new vehicle you have to get used to it, in a sense, to become tuned into its temperament. One thing you do is listen, so that you become familiar with its sounds. But in a camper you’re not only hearing the normal noises of the engine, and the chassis, and the road, but you’re also hearing Venetian blinds clanging, pots and pans hitting up against each other, silverware clattering in the drawer, something landing with a thud because you left a door open. Until you get your systems in order, get all the items on your checklist to be sure you’ve secured moving parts (and check it twice,) and learn to distinguish the benign sounds from the potential problems, you are a little nervous. 

And, after all, Steve was doing the driving, not me. He is an excellent and confident driver, but he was getting used to the new camper’s length, width, and height, as well as to how it handled on the road. So a little nervousness, at first, was what we both expected. What we didn’t expect to do, however, was have to worry about pipes—and maybe us—freezing overnight. This October, as it turned out, was exceptionally and unseasonably cold in Ontario. The major snow storm that caused such havoc in Buffalo began around Lake Superior just as we were about to head in that direction. And it was cold in the U.P., and in Wisconsin where we actually came into a snow storm. And in Minneapolis. And on down, until we finally got south of the cold front, in Illinois. 

As it turned out, the pipes didn’t freeze, nor did we. And we had a very good time, even if we were often bundled up with four layers of clothing.  

Toronto

We had never been to Toronto before, although we’d heard from many, many people that it was a very interesting city to visit. After a few days there we agreed. We thought we would like to come back when we could spend more time there.  

We found a campground only about twenty miles from the center of the city and were able to get into town with the camper (over the weekend when the traffic wasn’t too heavy) and on the subway: not a very long ride on a clean, modern system. 

In the few days we had there we did manage to get to the top of the CN tower which, in fact, towers over the city as it was meant to do. It was designed to be a giant TV and radio communication platform to serve the Greater Toronto Area. The project became "official" in 1972, and turned out to be an engineering marvel. It is still the tallest freestanding structure in the world and now the city’s iconic symbol. 

True to the claims in their ads, you have a wonderful, 360°, view of the city and of Lake Ontario. On a very clear day, we were told, it is possible to see approximately 60-75 miles away, sometimes seeing an outline of the city of Rochester across Lake Ontario in the U.S., or the mist rising from Niagara Falls.

We didn’t go up to the Sky Pod, situated high above the main observation floor, which is the highest public observation deck in the world. But we did have lunch at  the Horizons Cafe (at 1,136 ft). There  is also the 360 Restaurant (at 1,150 ft.), which completes a full revolution in just over an hour..

The Glass Floor and Outdoor Observation Deck is at 1,122 ft.  The Glass Floor can withstand a pressure of 600 lbs/sq. in.; roughly the weight of 14 large hippopotami. It consists of a sandwich of thermal glass units that are 2½ in. thick and made up of a pane of 1 in. of laminated glass, 1 in. of airspace and another pane of ½ in. of laminated glass. Despite all assurances it felt very weird to stand on the glass floor and look all the way down to the street below.

We also did other typically tourist things; we took a bus ride around the city, a boat ride to the nearby Toronto Islands and envied the people who live on these lovely islands.(There are long lists waiting for a vacant apartment or house since there is no more building allowed; applicants are chosen by lottery.) Some of the islands are privately owned; others are beautiful public parks. There are three yacht clubs on the various islands. One of these on Mugg’s Island, the Island Yacht Club, was founded in 1941. A small group of affluent Jews, sailing enthusiasts, started their own club at a time when the other clubs were restricted.   

Typically, we were drawn to the various ethnic neighborhoods, of which there are many: the Chinese, Greek, Italian and Portuguese are the largest. In each of these areas street signs are in both English and the language of the ethnic group. There are not only dozens and dozens of restaurants but also shops selling imported goods, specialized travel agencies and a variety of bilingual services: in Greektown, we passed a sign for the “Metamorphosis Child Care Center.” We also had a delicious lunch in Greektown at a place simply called “Maria’s”; I had saganaki, one of my favorite Greek dishes.  

Saganaki  sounds to me as if it belongs on a Japanese rather than Greek menu, but it is actually the diminutive of sagani, a two-handled

The city from one of the Toronto Islands.

frying pan. The dish usually serves as an appetizer but it can make for a very satisfying light meal. It’s made with Greek cheese, usually kasseri or kefalotiri, which is melted in a frying pan or in the oven, drizzled with lemon juice and served with pita. I loved it, (although I have to say that our own Greek restaurant in New Paltz serves American style saganaki which is sprinkled with brandy and comes to the table aflame, and which I like even better). 

One of the reasons we went to Toronto is that some Chinese friends who live in Shanghai have been temporarily reassigned (at their request) to work there for a few years. Consequently, we also had an excellent dim sum meal in one of Toronto’s several Chinese neighborhoods. We learned that there are about 500,000 Chinese in Toronto, many who came when Hong Kong was handed over to China. Cantonese is the second language of Toronto, in spite of the fact that French is the second official language of the province.  

Our friends also took us to an enormous Chinese grocery, larger and more fully stocked than anything we’ve been to in New York’s Chinese neighborhoods in Manhattan, Brooklyn or Queens. I had a great time stocking up on some items that I planned to cook on our trip, and did, in fact, use almost everything except some of the canned good which, I had forgotten, was in one of our storage bins. 

We managed to have a couple of other excellent meals before we headed north, one in particular at an Italian restaurant near the campground. We didn’t expect much of this restaurant, located in a strip mall, but were we surprised! It was at least as good as meals we’ve had at the Caterina di Medici, the Italian restaurant on the CIA campus. 

Toronto was a great culinary success: our three favorite cuisines in three days—Italian, Chinese, Greek.

 “Northern” Ontario 

From Toronto we took Route 10 north in the direction of Owen Sound and the Bruce Peninsula, a very popular resort area in the summertime. It marks the southernmost shore of Georgian Bay, the eastern section of Lake Huron. If you look at a map of the Great Lakes you see that Lake Huron has two oval shaped areas, one larger than the other. Georgian Bay is the smaller of the two.

It was a perfect fall day, the colors were at their peak and because there are so many sugar maples in that part of Ontario, the spectacle rivaled anything we see at home, or in New England. This was the case all along our route around Georgian Bay. We passed more lakes and rivers and streams than we could count, all rimmed with brilliant color reflecting in the water.  

There is so much space in Canada! When you travel there it’s hard to remember that so much of the world is densely populated. And this is the populated part of Ontario. Why then, I wonder, is this part of the province is called “northern Ontario” when there’s so much more of it much further north? With barely a town or road to interrupt the wilderness, Ontario reaches north for about another two thousand miles.  

As we drove through small towns we remembered that Canadian Thanksgiving was the following week, October 10. Everywhere we looked we saw decorations, similar to our Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations combined. No turkeys, no horns of plenty—but lots of pumpkins, corn stalk bundles, and a profusion of dolls made from corn stalks, most dressed like scarecrows. But in some places the dolls’ outfits were much more sophisticated with vintage clothing, or clothing that suggested literary themes, or themes from children’s books. In the towns, not only homes but shop windows were decorated too. Even street lamps. In one town, Medford, stuffed cornstalk figures were hanging from every lamp-post and on one corner there was a scene from the Wizard of Oz. It was fun, very festive. 

Canadian Thanksgiving decorations: stuffed figures on a lamp post

30,000 Islands 

We were ultimately headed for Sault Ste. Marie, where Lake Huron meets Lake Superior. As we continued north along the eastern shore of Georgian Bay we reached Parry Sound where we had booked a cruise around the “30,000 Islands”. We were skeptical about the number but, in fact, one of the crewmen told us that there are actually 30,000 distinct islands registered in what is the largest fresh-water archipelago in the world. 

To be registered, an island has to be at least one acre. Some are—just. They are barely large enough for one house and three trees, although a few of the larger islands have mansions, helicopter or airstrips, boathouses, cottages; all are summer homes. By October, almost all had already been closed down. 

There is no public transportation to the islands, no shops, no public services. They bring food and other necessities from the mainland, stocking up in a few of the small port towns that rim Parry Sound and bring their supplies to their island by boat. Some of the islands don’t have electricity but most have their own generators, water and sewage systems.  

In Ontario, the season is really over by the end of September but, since it was a fairly mild day, there were a lot of people on the cruise, including a high school class from a school near Toronto where there is a travel and tourism program. Unfortunately, they were typical high school teenagers. They couldn’t care less about the islands or the scenery—they didn’t pay the slightest attention to the interesting narration—they weren’t at all impressed by the narrow channels the captain was negotiating between the islands. 

Some of these channels were so narrow you could reach out and touch the rocky base of the islands. But in their own way, they were having a great time on the boat and it was fun to watch them acting as if they’d just read the book on how to act like an adolescent. Despite their energy, we had a peaceful and very beautiful few hours in a small segment of this immense lake.

 A tiny island in the 30,000 Islands archipelago.

From Parry Sound, which Steve said is famous as the birthplace of the world-famous hockey player, Bobby Orr, we headed on toward our next destination: Manitoulin Island.  More about that next time.

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