I would have wandered around the grounds of the long-deserted motel and taken more pictures, but I had a feeling that someone was watching from the leftmost second-floor room, so I departed.
Whispering pines
Category Archives: On the road
Whispering pines, rustling palms
I was sitting with a woman I was “sort of” seeing at the time. There was a breeze blowing. The palm trees surrounding the oasis were making those sounds that they make when the wind blows.
“Whispering,” I said to her, thinking of an old motel that I was familiar with.
“Palm trees don’t whisper. They rustle,” she replied.
She was right, of course, and I didn’t argue with her. But, some weeks later, in the dark, while in bed, she tried to shove a knife into me. More than once. I didn’t take it personally, but I left town in a hurry and didn’t look back.
Who’d have thought that whispering pines and rustling palms would have had such an effect?
Or, perhaps it was the other woman I was seeing who worked in the same bar. They hated each other’s guts, but obviously they still talked.
Women — can’t live with ’em, and can’t live without ’em.
Men — stupid.
Anyway, that’s the motel I was thinking about when I blurted out the whispering palms in obvious error. It’s closed now, of course, and has been for a very long time.
Rest areas across the prairies
If you thought public rest areas across northern Ontario were just plain silly, you shouldn’t complain, because at least you had a tree to hide behind. Or a snowplow turnaround to litter with your urine deposit.
If only it were so simple on the wind-swept prairie!
It starts on the eastern Manitoba border with Ontario, and ends on the western Manitoba border with Saskatchewan. Two welcome centers, complete with facilities for those who have needs. Open only in the summertime.
That’s it!
Nada. Nothing. Rien.
Piss at your leisure, boys and girls.
Anywhere. Any time. Any place.
Just don’t expect ground cover.
On into Saskatchewan, see above. It’s the same.
Ditto with Alberta.
Oh, sure, there are some brown-signed rest areas, some with porta-potties, to be sure. But by the time you speed by the tiny brown sign announcing same, it’s too late, and you can’t get turned around on the four-lane to hit them, so to speak.
I wonder if the colour of the sign is reflective of how much importance the powers-that-be give to restroom facilities.
Perhaps they don’t give a shit.
Sometimes, tourist attractions are home-grown
Somewhere on the road
The Burger Scoop redux
Looking a little the worse for wear is the sign announcing The Burger Scoop, previously covered in this post. Don’t despair, however; the burgers are as good as ever.
Again I just had to stop here, park out front, enter and order the Bistro burger and strawberry milkshake. I was warned that I might find the Bistro a tad on the spicy side, but I told the woman that I liked it that way. Since I’ve spent a lot of time on the Baja, spicy doesn’t bother me in the least.
The Bistro wasn’t as spicy as I would have liked, but I’m certain the locals find it just a little on the hot side. As far as I’m concerned, there weren’t enough jalapenos on it, but that’s only my opinion.
As always–and yes, one more time–The Burger Scoop is a place not to be missed on Highway 17 in Ignace, Ontario.
Oh, and they’ve added a Robin’s Donuts franchise to the mix to catch those early-morning highway high-milers with coffee and donuts or muffins.
Don’t expect burgers for breakfast though. The restaurant doesn’t open for lunch until 11 a.m.
Rest areas in Northwestern Ontario
This is an ongoing commentary on the sad spectacle of roadside rest areas in northwestern Ontario. Read more about how badly the area is treated with regard to an inability to take clean, decent and safe bathroom breaks along the isolated miles of the Trans-Canada Highway here, and here. Don’t despair, though. There are plenty of trees and shrubs available, behind which you are free to empty your bladder and evacuate your bowels. Bring your own toilet paper.
Updated July 2010: Sudbury to Thunder Bay – a distance of 626 miles/1,000 kilometers – has a dearth of rest areas. In fact, that little stretch of two-lane blacktop is renowned for its absence of rest areas.
Oh, sure, it has the very occasional Tourist Centre by the side of the road where supervised evacuation of your bowel is allowed from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., mid-May to the end of August, when those buildings are shut down for the winter. After that, boys and girls, it’s entirely up to you to find your own personal tree at a snowplow turnout that hasn’t been shat upon before you got there.
Good luck with that.
Many of the smaller areas that are indicated by a tiny brown and white picnic table sign have wooden toilets, but access to these too is closed off in winter. No matter though. The signs are so small and questionable that even a long-time Ministry of Transportation (MTO) employee (are there any of those left?) would be hard-pressed to pull off into one before passing it by.
A tourist new to the area would have absolutely no idea that a toilet persists in between the trees covering up any sight of the offending wooden outhouse. And before you climb into one of these at night, be aware that there’s no lighting that will allow you to see what you’re stepping in. You might as well use a tree – if you can find one uncontaminated by human waste.
Now then, I know that the excuse for all of the stupidity on the part of Ontario is that it provides local business with a guaranteed supply of customers full of human waste that needs to be cleaned up at the end of every day. Believe me. I know how some of those local businesses clean their latrines, and it’s not pretty. It doesn’t smell good either.
Perhaps Ontario-the-good might want to consider providing some training to these businesses in how to clean a shitter. Such training might provide not only a steady stream of return business (if you’ll pardon the pun) but also gains in the number of people employed.
Updated October 2009: Little did I know when I wrote this post that Ontario, in its infinite wisdom, had closed 20 out of 23 service centres along Highway 400 and 401 in southern Ontario. That’s right, folks, they closed 20. All at once. Re-opening will not occur until 2012. What a fucking joke.
<< uncontrollable laughter >>
Drivers aren’t even allowed to stop on the side of the road on those highways, and in fact, there are no paved shoulders to pull off onto. Imagine that, users of the Interstate system down south.
Consequently, there’s nowhere to piss. Or shit.
The stupidity of Ontario never ceases to amaze me.
* * *
There’s a nice little rest area just west of Thunder Bay. It’s the time zone map, complete with trees, tables and toilets. It’s remarkable for the size of the tribute it pays to time zone change. Now, granted, it does delineate the Eastern Time Zone (from whence all things Toronto must by edict emanate), and the Central Time Zone, where nothing ever happens. That in itself makes it remarkable and distinct.
I do know that some years ago, the time zone marker was moved to its present position from a somewhat more easterly location. I’m not sure if Queen’s Park in Toronto, the centre of the known universe, took it upon itself to actually move a time zone, but it wouldn’t surprise me. The display is now on a prominent hill looking southeast to its mecca.
Almost unnoticed is the Arctic Watershed marker. It’s located somewhat east of the time zone map on one of those snowplow turnouts renowned for trash disposal, urine deposits and No Parking signs.
Some distance back in the bush from the Arctic Watershed sign and almost invisible is a plaque detailing the history and area involvement in delineating the territory which eventually became known as Canada.
Unspoiled delights
I’ve never understood Ontario’s inability to promote tourism in the far north. The government in the south takes billions of dollars from the north by means of the forests, mines and water (in the form of hydro electricity). All the government basically has to provide in return is a paved highway, and this in the form of the TransCanada highway, which they must provide in order that goods travel across the country.
For decades, the unspoiled nature of the province, from the Manitoba border to Sault Ste. Marie, has sat around just waiting to be noticed. Unfortunately, no one has had the foresight to promote the area as the largest unspoiled and accessible-by-road nature preserve in the world.
Are you driving through the area? Where are the washrooms and toilets? Why, just pull off the road anywhere you like, but preferably at a snowplow turnout, and deposit your trash and urine in the pit bordering the turnout.
Are you looking for a scenic spot to have lunch? Well then, why not look for a small brown sign with an arrow and hope for the best? If you’re fortunate, and you don’t speed on by because the signage is small and indeterminate, you’ll miss it all.
Might there be tables? A toilet? A scenic view? You’ll never know until you pull in and have a look for yourself. But then, you’ve sped on by, and, too late now, you drive on to your destination, having missed out on spectacular views, lakes, streams, rapids and picnic tables.
And only the occasional outdoor toilet.