Retreat from Moscow

I was going to narrate this drive home (from our trip to Smiths Falls and Napanee), but hubby wrote a note to a friend, and it truly befits the post.

I should preface this, by stating that when Jen wants us to get directly from A to B, with the aid of our friendly GPS, it tends to be straight forward. HOWEVER, Jen loves her back country roads, especially gravel, and not always maintained by the county. So, we do often, more or less, intentionally wander about. An eastern Ontario road map or google earth might help follow this narrative. 

     So, on Wednesday we went from Smith Falls to Napanee for lunch at a favourite restaurant on the water. It was about 12:30 , we were hungry, so the fast boring way, highway #15 to 401 to Napanee, arriving about 14:15 ( hope you are ok with 24-hour clock, Jen isn't).

     We finished lunch/dinner at 15:30, and started a more slow paced drive home. This would take us from Napanee to Yarker and east to either 38 north or further east to 10 north (Perth road at about Sydenham). But instead of right turn east at Yarker on 4, we turned north west on 6 to Colebank, then further north west again to, guess where, Moscow. 

I, being a European history major, was quite excited but alas, no Kremlin, no Bolshoi, just the houses of the some 65 residents, and sign promising ice cream at the church on Saturday.

     It turns out that the hamlet was one of many with the same good old Anglo Saxon name. This confused the postal service, which I'm thinking, in 1800 didn't have the codes yet. So in honour of Russia stopping Napoleon in Moscow in 1812 (you know, the 1812 overture) they renamed the hamlet Moscow. OK, so we have, unlike Napoleon, good weather, full tummies, wheeled transport, and GPS navigation. We are heading north, great, but west, not great. Time to, as did Napoleon, turn about. After a short move further up 6 northwest, we turned back through Moscow, and turned North EAST, on Huffman road by the Church with the promised Saturday ice cream.

     All is good. We are rolling east on pavement. BUT then comes our bonding with Napoleon. Huffmann turns into the appropriately named Long Swamp Road, "no winter use, not maintained by the county."
     We start off on gravel, (no big deal), then for what seemed  a scene from the Grand Army's Retreat, it went to some crushed large rocks. We have an SUV with good clearance, 4 wheel drive, and large tires, nevertheless, we had to zip along, so as not to sink into the alleged road bed.

Jen tells me that it was nice scenery.

     Finally, Long Swamp Road ends at Bellrock  Rd, which if we had turned right would have taken us east to 38, but you guessed it, we did a left and headed north West, to Chippewa. No, not, thank goodness, the famous one, just the hamlet in what was still Eastern Ontario. From Chippewa, we went more or less north to Second Lake Road, (are there less than 100 second lake roads around us?) to Oak Flats road...

then south not north, to Arena Boundary Road (no arena was evident) east to Piccadilly. (And, yes, apparently, it is a long, long way to Piccadilly) and on to 38, up to the Westport Road, and from there home.

     All this adventure, really only added about an hour to an hour and half trip. But how else do you go from Moscow to  Piccadilly through Chippawa on a Wednesday afternoon? 

Take care, No elephants were spotted tin the air for the duration of the trip.

I hope you liked his narration! His friend is ill and he sends her tales about our trips. He forgot about this part. The sign is small, but important! "Share the road!"

The dashcam isn't the best, but you can see how quickly the deer appear, as well as the lovely lakes we pass on the drive.

I spotted them and called out, JB was just trying to avoid potholes!


Despite this scenery, we are in a mild drought.


It is definitely cottage country! These signs are so typical.


Ah, but the lakes! And on through Westport. I love this approach, the lake just gets bigger and bigger.


This guy was interesting. The sign on his back says "I am carrying myself to Montreal."


Home again!

turkey toms from Jennifer Jilks on Vimeo.

Bala Falls Hydro Project - a 3rd guest post Part 21

May 30, 2010

Hydro project presents great opportunities for Bala

(Editor’s note: this letter was addressed to Muskoka Lakes Mayor Karen Ellis. Copied with permission.)

Dear Ms. Ellis:
I am writing to strongly endorse the proposed hydroelectric project for the Bala Falls.
Our family cottage is on the bay on the Moon River and faces the falls. When I first started going to Bala as a child, there was a power station there. The building, which was quite an attractive structure, was there until 1972. I’m not really sure why anyone would be opposed to putting a power station back where one previously stood. 

What wasn’t there when I started going to the cottage was a massive in-filled Highway 169, with the causeway over the falls. Previously anyone going through Bala had to drive through town, past The Kee, and under the one-lane train bridge. Can you imagine traffic today if the causeway hadn’t been built?

Mar. 6, 2010

It’s called progress. It’s progress like this causeway that allows so many of the people who are opposed to the power station to get to Muskoka in their car. The rock that filled the causeway was all blasted out from the area. Have you seen the rock cuts as you drive through Bala? Can you imagine the noise of that blasting in those days? And yet people saw it as progress.

For some reason though, Ontario is experiencing extreme NIMBYism when it comes to green energy.
I could see opposition to wind turbines going up in Bala, or a solar farm, but a hydro station? It’s just using water that’s wasted spilling down the falls no one pays any attention to. The falls where people are always getting swept away in the current. It’s clean, green renewable energy that’s simply being wasted.

The falls that people play in will stay the same. The power station landscaping will actually give better access for people to enjoy the falls. And it’s going in a place where there was a power station before.
In the meantime, the water power that’s now wasted could power 4,000 homes. Or cottages. The cottages of people who drive cars and SUVs from Toronto, vehicles that burn oil and contribute greenhouse gases to our rapidly warming climate. This has been the hottest year ever recorded in human history.

The problem is real and all of us who drive our cars to Muskoka are doing our best to contribute to the problem. This is one opportunity for us do the right thing for the planet.

I’m confused by some of the reasons for people’s opposition. One is “the noise of construction, including blasting.” You can’t talk to someone in the chair beside you on the beach when a train goes by at our cottage. Blasting would be much less intrusive. 

Trucks roar down Highway 169 and motorcycles roar up Highway 38 behind our cottage. There simply is no reason to slow this project because of noise.
 
And traffic? There are too many cars on that road already. If some people take another route, all the better.

I guess what frustrates me most about the delays to this project is the huge opportunity that Bala is missing to be a renewable energy leader. Bala could become energy independent and unlike wind power which is intermittent, you can count on water power 24 hours a day.

And what if Bala pursued isolation from the grid, also called “islanding.” Other towns with hydroelectric power, like Almonte in eastern Ontario, sat in the dark for days during the 1998 ice storm because they were connected to the grid and when the grid was down, they were down. The water was flowing but no power was generated.

Can you imagine if Bala lobbied Hydro One to install remote circuit breakers that allowed Bala to isolate itself from the grid when there were power outages? Can you imagine a prolonged ice storm where others in Muskoka had no electricity to pump water or run furnace fans or keep fridges and TVs on, but residents of Bala were unaffected? 

This is well within the power of this community, but it has to stop the hysterical, knee-jerk opposition and embrace the amazing potential this project presents.

I heartily endorse this project and it’s time to stop this nonsensical opposition and form a group to pursue how to allow Bala to “island” itself during widespread power outages. Property values will rise significantly when people learn about Bala’s cutting energy independence!

What are you waiting for? Get the shovels in the ground and get the circuit breakers in the works!

Cam Mather

Tamworth, ON

Bala Falls - a 2nd guest post Part 20

From: David Sculati

Sent: Friday, October 01, 2010 10:11 PM

Subject: Bala Update

Bala Falls - fall

Dear Moon River Friends and Neighbours,

Thank you for all of your comments from the note that I sent you about the issues in Bala.  In particular, Stephen Rigbey was able to give me some excellent insights on the Hydro project.  Many of you will know Stephen since he and his family have cottaged on the Moon for almost a century.  They have been excellent stewards of the River (Stephen was one of the first to start water testing in a scientific way) and since he is employed as a Hydropower Engineer by BC Hydro, Stephen has the engineering knowledge to comment as an expert on the subject.  Here is what he had to say:
Dear David,

I am compelled to comment on your email (about the hydro project).  I am too far removed from the politics to give opinion on that aspect, but I can give what I believe is a unique perspective on the Save the Bala Falls controversy.  It’s unique because while my family has been on the Moon for just about a hundred years (we predate the original Bala Falls hydro development), I have spent my 30 year engineering career working on sustainable hydropower projects, across Canada and overseas.  As such, I have followed the Swift River proposal with much interest. In my professional opinion, Swift River has spent the time to provide you with answers that are both thoughtful and thoroughly truthful. The benefits of small hydro, located close to where the power is to be used, are not being overplayed – they are real, and cannot be emulated by alternative energy sources such as wind power.

Power production is one of modern society’s basic needs. However, any power source, including alternatives such as wind power, comes with environmental and social cost; acceptance of projects requires compromise and tradeoffs.  It’s up to us to decide whether the benefits justify the cost, on a case-by-case basis.  Some projects are clearly not justified, others are marginal, other relatively benign.

Society needs new sustainable power that comes with minimal environmental/social impacts.  The proposed project will restrict the amount of water going over the south falls, and the “spill” will definitely not be as impressive, and will be minimal in dry periods.  That’s about it.  The north falls, where most people go, really won’t really be affected at all in the summer months.  Of course, any construction period is a period of upheaval, and the impacts must be properly mitigated.  I’m sure that many of us remember when the south falls bypass and highway bridge were constructed at just about the same location. I’ve been involved with a lot of construction projects – it’ll be similar to that.
 

The proposed project depletes none of our earth’s resources, burns no coal, floods no land, disturbs no fish or wildlife, produces no radioactive waste, kills no migratory birds.  If it doesn’t go ahead, the project that is eventually built to replace the power that isn’t generated at Bala will do at least some of these, while producing power much less efficiently.   I simply can’t think of a power project anywhere with less social and environmental impact.

I urge (everyone) to take the time to understand the real issues and not simply react with a “not in my backyard” approach.  Please consider all the facts and look at the bigger picture of what is best before deciding which way to vote.  If you do decide that small hydro power makes sense, Swift River must still be taken to task to ensure minimal construction upheaval, that the best aesthetically pleasing layout is chosen, and that minimum flows at the south falls remain acceptable.

Although I now live and work in British Columbia, a large piece of me remains on the Moon.

Best Regards,
Stephen Rigbey  MASc. PEng.
Manager, Dam Safety
BC Hydro
Thanks to Stephen for publicly sharing his illuminating comments.

I hope that you (like me) found his insights enlightening.  You might also enjoy reading the letters to the editor which were published this week in the Gravenhurst Banner, the Bracebridge Examiner and Muskoka Today.  They can be found at:
www.cottagecountrynow.ca/community/southmuskoka/article/879869>  from me
www.cottagecountrynow.ca/community/southmuskoka/article/879864>  from Mike Webb

Finally,  I have added an attachment letter from a Moon River resident directly across from the falls.

Enjoy your weekend. We are on the Moon, hope you are too.

Sincerely,

David Sculati

Be careful out there!

You must read this story if you drive Ontario roads! Many know how dangerous it is.


The warnings are clear in Near North country, but sometimes you just can't help it. Thanks to Gerry for permitting this guest post. (The photos are mine, however!)

Deer Accident

February 20th, 2010 | Author: Gerry Levasseur
 
        As much as I enjoy Mother Nature and all her critters, there is unfortunately a downside to living in her backyard. Following my wonderful surprise Birthday Party Dinner, my partner was hit by a big buck. This is insurance terminology. You don’t say you hit a deer but rather you were hit by a deer. You figure it out. Fortunately she is OK but her Toyota was destroyed. The deer hit the car in such a way that it flipped over the car but not till it broke the windshield and roof then flew off. The deer did not survive. The car stopped. 

   My partner had the presence of mind to turn on her 4 way flashers. She then pushed a chunk of the windshield off her chest then sifted thru the broken glass to get to her cell phone. She then called 911 for an ambulance and police while 3 cars past her without stopping. She called her Mom and me to meet her at the Hospital. Still in shock she even called her Brother-in-Law to come and pick up the deer. If a deer hits you, you own it, the police told us.

      We were at the hospital for 8 hours. She had no broken bones, did not need any stitches but we helped the nurse remove between 50-75 pieces of chard glass from her face. Her eye glasses most likely saved her eyes. Today there is little evidence on her face that she was in an accident. Unfortunately she did get jolted hard enough to prompt a whiplash and suspicion of a mild concussion. She is back to work part time but has many Doctors appointments to deal with all her aches, pains and headaches. She is very reluctant driving any vehicles which she will have to get over. She says she will never own a small vehicle again rather she wants a truck. In spite of my personal feelings for insurance companies, they have been very understanding, patient and cooperative.

Fawn in ditch from Jennifer Jilks on Vimeo.





People be careful out there! I am glad this story wasn't any worse than it could have been. Bambi grows up to be a big boy, you know! [See: “Hunters. You kill ‘em, we cut ‘em.” -city folks don't get it, nor do they understand Aboriginal hunters!]

These are big creatures, judging by the size of the tracks beside my boot. I posted previously about a memorial: a moose collision that took the life of an OPP member.

Respect for a life well-lived: Remembrance Day

Today, a guest post. Small communities honour those who have passed in a different way than those in the big city, with pomp and circumstance.

We attended a Celebration of Life yesterday. I had mixed feelings, as my last contact with this man The last contact I had with this man was when I was emptying my late father's house. I was dealing with many issues, and in the middle of pregrieving my dad's passing. It brought back those memories: bearing the anger dad had at old age, and frailty, and his brain tumour.

My husband had some wise words, and a thoughtful commentary. I post it here for your reflection.

Dear friends and family,

The weather here is relatively mild, which make for good dog walking.

My client is still in the hospital so his German Shepard and I go out twice a day for about 40 min a time.

Another volunteer takes him two more times, so he and we get good exercise.
Been a month now.

 Still doing the meals on wheels, and Jen has another palliative care person, as well as teaching a course at the prison, and her various boards.

I am joining a local library support group ( for the district, 4 libraries) .

So we keep active.

We attended another memorial service for one of my clients yesterday.
Harry ran the local storage place.
He was a stonemason, and a Navy Vet.

That make two in two months , both veterans of WW2.

Jen, as well as her activities above, has a WW2 client in a nursing home..

He served on a British Battle Ship as a radar instructor and operator.
We looked up the fairly famous ship (HMS Renown which served in both theatres of war, including the battle with  the Bismark)
Actually made contact with an Australian officer from same ship (also in radar).
Jen's client is, not surprisingly a physicist, who was also a senior person in the Atomic Energy Commission.

Getting back to the yesterday's service.
It took place in our community center (full , we stood).
Neither of the services of these vets were formal, but both were quiet moving as they were  Legion ceremonies.
In these cases, the local veterans form up in line , and led by a piper playing The Maple Leaf Forever. They parade to the front of the hall
to salute at the table containing the Beret and medals of the deceased.
We have about a dozen vets left here , I know some of them , as they either are clients or caregivers themselves.
There are not many left.
When I was a boy, and attended Remembrance Day Services (My father and two of my uncles served overseas, one, a bomber pilot was lost) the lines of these men and women were long and young.
Now, out of the 1,000,000 or so who served only 150,000 remain.

The average age is 86. 

Across Canada, 400 a week die. Soon there will be none.

So, with all this in my head, I watched this little parade, march to the front of the hall, in Regimental Berates, blues blazers and medals, two wearing the red berets of paratroopers.
They, (and then the family members), place a poppy on the table, salute, turn, reform lines and march back..

and although I have attended Remembrance Days ceremonies much larger in many cities, including Ottawa and the base in Halifax, this was the most moving, I have been privileged to see.

To see these old men, still marching to say good by to their "comrade" ( the legion term for a member), backs straight, lines straight is something to see.
Not painful, like the repatriation of our losses on today's field, more just a sense of what was, another passage in their lives and ours.

It seems to be our new calling to help this generation move from here and now to wherever, with some comfort and dignity.
We are gifted to have this task.

The passing of the generation before your own, constantly, brings many memories, and a strong sense of mortality to mind.

These are my thoughts of today, I have a large dog, waiting for my legs and leash, not my musings.

Brian

Signs of the times II: Requiem for Lola

A great tool, the GPS can help folks navigate their way through dangerous territory, finding streets, places of business, restaurants and gas stations when you feel lost and gone forever. In Muskoka it is a great tool. Roads, apparently going NE end up going NW. It can be confusing with Lake Muskoka in the centre and Bracebridge, Port Carling, Bala, Torrance, Gravenhurst surrounding it. You'll notice, those who know our region, that GPS & Google seems to feel that Southwood Rd. is a better route than Highway #169 from Gravenhurst up to Glen Orchard. They believed the GPS...

For those who travel, it can be a good thing, a GPS. But humankind has invented other tools, which utilised in conjunction with a GPS, make travel much better: snow tires, common sense, activated intuition, maps, emergency kits, a trusted co-pilot! (See a previous post:  Driving in Winter in Muskoka!)

Yes, there are issues with the GPS...

Following GPS device's directions strands couple for three days - The Globe and Mail
Tuesday, Dec. 29, 2009

• Bound for Reno from the Pacific Northwest, grandparents follow alternate route that directs them to a snowy, remote part of Oregon. They are stranded sans snow tires, gas, food...

Their mistakes? We won't call them errors...because that would imply that they might learn from their mistakes... They didn't fill up with gas before they left, ignored the signs saying, 'This road is not maintained in Winter', refrained from using snow tires or bringing chains.
The article goes on to mention other horror stories...

• In June, 2009, an Atlanta man's three-bedroom home was mistakenly torn down by a demolition crew following GPS co-ordinates.
• A month later, a Swedish couple on holiday in Italy misspelled their destination on a rental car's GPS. They were hoping to visit the island of Capri, but arrived instead in the town of Carpi, 660 kilometres to the north.
• And in 2007, a British woman drove her $200,000 Mercedes into a river while following GPS directions to a christening. She was pulled from the car before it was swept away.

Signs are important in Muskoka, even if they appear a bit tipsy...I posted a previous 'SIGNS on the times article. They struck me as quite drunk, due to the snowplows that zoom merrily along in the dark at 4:00 a.m.! But heed them, nonetheless.

The first of the 12 steps is admitting you have a problem!

Rick, a family friend and regular solitary escapee to warmer climes in the south, wrote about their GPS event. Usually he travels alone, stopping in meeting up with friends in the US. This is their guest post...
Hi

For those of you who don't remember Lola, she was my trusted companion on many journeys over the last few years. Yes I admit she was a GPS machine but much more than that when you spend 10 days alone in a car driving to Arizona and back. She was always there with handy keep left directions, arrival times and turn right directions. Without her I never would have made it to Arizona, Florida and so many other places.

Sadly, on this trip Lola started acting strangely as we drove on the I 81.  Suddenly, and without reason, she kept asking us to leave the I 81 and take mysterious side roads . We were puzzled and luckily for me Sandy [Rick's newly retired wife!] was there to say ignore Lola. If I had been alone I would as always have simply gone on these new exciting roads because Lola was never wrong.

As we progressed we noticed other strange  occurrences, shutting down and saying there were no roads while we were still on the I 81 , losing the satellite repeatedly and then not accepting any new Touch screen commands. Something was definitely wrong and I of course, moved to panic mode. Sandy reassured me and reminded me that she could read a map and we would be ok . This helped but my concern for Lola remained.

Later we removed an extra memory card thinking this may be the problem. It was, and Lola seemed to be functioning again. A few hours later, new problems began.

Suddenly we were in Baltimore's suburbs in an area that did not look too safe. That was it. We turned around and Sandy took over. Lola was shut off for the rest of that day.

The next day we tried again but Lola completely broke down and could not function at all.  This was it Lola, 5 year old technology, was done.

On arrival in Florida, we purchased a new GPS. We have named it Glenda after the wicked witch of the North. She has an assertive, aggressive American tone. This new technology works better even diverts around traffic jams automatically, etc.

Alas it will not be the same. Me: a very directionally challenged individual alone all the way to Arizona, totally dependent on Lola in getting there and back safely. This cannot be replaced and all I have are those memories.

Now, thankfully, I have Sandy with me and am not such a hopelessly dependent GPS individual. If Lola cannot be saved she will rest on a basement shelf with a home made plaque testifying to her amazing service .

Rick

Life on the farm - memories

I believe in gratitude...
My husband grew up on a farm in the 1950s. It puts life in perspective. Many, in many countries, do not have the luxuries of potable water, in this day and age. We take life for granted.

This is his reflection on life on a farm, without running water or indoor plumbing. Here is what he wrote:

My clearest thoughts on the farm, were the smells and sights in the barns, sheds and stables. As a little boy that's where I played by myself (which may explain my love of solitude). We had these large draft horses, very gentle, I could play under them with out fear. I still love the look and smell of these great animals.

I remember going out to the fields with my grandfather. We would have hitched up a couple of horses, giddy up to start, whoo, to stop, gee to turn left, haa to turn right. In fact, most of the time, we were on "auto pilot" as the horses knew the routine as well as we did.

One day, I went into town with my grandfather on the buggy. Even in the 50's a buggy in town would draw a crowd. Anyway, my grandfather left me in the buggy while he visited his brother at the mill. The horse got bored or hungry, at any rate, to my embarrassment, he continued the journey around town, with me and buggy in tow, despite my best efforts at whoo. The town itself was a village of 600 or so then, I think.

There was a post office where my mother worked. The basement flooded every spring. As the washroom was down there, it had to be accessed by a raised board walk. Our local dentist still used a foot drill, in a room out of Norman Rockwell.

A couple shared a store of fine china, a barber shop, and the local rod, reel, etc. supplies. The "new jeweller" had been there only 30 years. My uncle ran a confectionery where I would get candy after church on Sunday. At milking time we would call for the cows - co bosh, co-bosh. I have no idea where the expressions came from but the cows, with some encouragement from our collie, would come.

I remember the sight of sunsets across the open fields as far as you could see, especially in winter, covered in snow. About two fields back from the barn was a low area. It flooded every spring. I called it Lake Winnipeg (Lord knows why) and sailed wooden sticks in it.

At the back of the farm we had a bush. When I was about five or so, I followed our dogs or more likely led them to it. Yes, I was lost in it. I didn't know it, wasn't frightened, but search parties were out for me. It was in winter. Apparently the dogs knew better and barked until a farmer, out hauling logs, found me. I guess that he and the dogs saved my life.

Our farm house was old, brick and somewhat falling apart. We didn't have plumbing, nor central heating, and at times no electrical power (depending on when the bills were paid). Water came from a hand pump outside the summer kitchen. Summer kitchens were once common. Basically they were used in summer especially in thrashing, when there would be a number to feed. In winter they were shut down to reduce the space to heat.

One of our sheds was a disused ice house. All of them had the old smells of wood and oil. I still have a wooden carpenter's plane that belonged to my grandfather. It still has that smell on it, and if I pick it up , all the memories come back.

My grandmother was a strong farm wife who worked in the fields, grew vegetables, and ran the house. She could drive horses, kill chickens, bake pie, and quote long passages of Bryon off the top of her head.

I should point out that my mother and I came to live with her parents after my father was killed in an industrial accident. I was actually born in Ottawa and lived there until maybe I was a year and half or two. If my father had lived, no doubt my life would have been very different. We moved out to the farm with my grandparents. We were what we now call the working poor. My grandfather would have made a good priest, or teacher, but as a farmer he didn't do well. He was the oldest of seven of eight kids, whose father died at a young age. He left school to support his family. Indeed his younger siblings thought him as a father more than a brother. He never said an unkind word about a soul, no matter race, creed or calling.

My grandmother was ambitious, smart and frustrated by the life she had vs. the life she wanted. She dominated my mother, but adored me, as her adopted son was killed in the war, and her biological son was killed in an accident. I should say that despite our lack of services and relative isolation, I was never hungry, nor cold or afraid.

When I was ten, we had to sell the farm and move to town as my grandparents were too old to work it. My mother associated the farm with poverty and loss. She was determined that I would do better. As in many families this would cause us some problems down the road. Moving was the right thing to do. I often think that for my mother, a move to Ottawa would have been better. Being a young widow, in a small town in the 1960's, was not an easy thing. As for me that move was a clear line in my life. Leaving the farm was the first, and the most difficult.

Now only my aunt in Ottawa would have any idea of what I speak of. All the rest are gone, but the memories will continue with me. I hope this gives a sense of what that life was like.

BTW: All photos are from our recent travels around S. Ontario!