I love apple fritters, yet really good ones - moist, sweet, tender, fresh and appley - are hard to find.
As this post is written, I am well along the St. Lawrence River,
having arrived in Montreal for a few day's rest, yet can reflect on the pull of the Great Lakes: Superior
that I previously circumnavigated, Huron than I never previously visited, and
finally Lake Ontario that ultimately feeds this great St. Lawrence River. The geography around these lakes is so
different from all the geography I have already experienced; a hilly terrain writ
from the grinding of the glaciers on incredibly resistant rock, exposing domes
and cliffs amid thinly soiled cover of spruce and maple forests, sanded smooth
as the glaciers retreated. It is magnificent. The sheer power of the great lakes is
awesome; inland seas that do not harbor a briny salty aroma and whose waters
are very clear and cold. The north shore
of Lake Superior, the largest freshwater lake in the world as measured by
surface area, is sparsely populated, with the TransCanada Highway 17 first connecting all the shore villages as recently as early 1960.
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| The bay at Neys Provincial Park, as seen from the highway overlook. This is typical terrain of the superior north shoreline |
One of the more interesting places along the north shore is Neys Provincial Park, not merely for its intense beauty and wave-song along a sandy cove beach but for its history. Neys is the site of a former German prisoner of war camp, primarily for officers, as it was so remote, with no road access and only accessible by boat. The boats used by the prisoners for fishing and logging are still on a rocky outcropping. Apparently, many of the prisoners never went home but rather stayed in Canada, and indeed the area, after the war. Luckily for me, they did have a campsite available following a very hilly 51-mile ride from Schreiber.
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| The old boats at Neys, ever so slowly returning to the Lake. |
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| The cliffs at Old Woman Bay, Lake Superior Provincial Park |
Lake Huron has always intrigued me as it appears on the map to be a bit fuzzy in terms of boundaries. At the same elevation as Lake Michigan, it is connected via the Strait of Mackinac. The perimeter of Huron and its many islands is a fuzzy profile that creates almost 2,000 miles of shoreline. Manitoulin Island is "technically" connected by a short bridge to the "fuzzy" north shore at Little Current due the network of islands, bays and peninsulas that make up the north shore. The Bruce Peninsula connects to Ontario at Owen Sound, and separates the vast Georgian Bay to the east from the rest of Huron. These features create an extensive shoreline, much of it rocky as if the glaciers left their claw-like marks. Yet the terrain is relatively gentle with both agricultural and sub-alpine forested areas. The lengthy, often sandy shoreline makes Huron a favorite of the cabin crowd as well as towns that appear to be relatively affluent, at least to this casual observer.
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| Crossing the Spanish River at Massey, one of the tributary rivers from hundreds of lakes on the northern boundary feeding Lake Huron |
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| Awaiting the arrival of the ferry to Tobermory |
I was the first to board for the 90-minute crossing, a wild ride that caused the boat to pitch and dip, with spray flying over the bow. The consideration of a cabbage roll for lunch from the dining area was declined as my risk level for actually keeping it down was not worth testing as I witnessed many people releasing their “discomfort” overboard or into bags provided by staff. It was the roughest crossing in a ferry I have ever had, and this on a lake rather than the open sea – that is what is so remarkable to me.
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| A single picture does not convey the true roughness of the lake, but the angle of the railing to the horizon gives a good indication of the boat's pitch, as does the flag. |
By this point in my narrative you are likely wondering what this has to do with an apple fritter. Like dough binding apple to sweetness, permit me to explain that it is not merely geography that linked me from Superior to the Bruce Peninsula in Huron, but an apple fritter.
There is a spot on the northeastern shore of Lake Superior called Batchawana Bay with a store that had promoted itself miles ahead as "famous" for its apple fritters. I have a soft spot in my gut for these sugar bombs and naturally had to confirm their boast. I parked my bike near a family sitting at a picnic table and asked them if their fritters were worth it – "definitely" was their response. I walked into the cramped store looking for a bakery case with the fritters and instead found a significant area of wall shelving loaded with small brown paper bags stuffed with a monstrous, dark, aromatic, warm confection. Returning to my bike, the conversation ensued with the mom asking where I was headed. After some discussion, they mentioned I was heading in the direction where they live on the Bruce Peninsula called Lions Head. The mom offered that I could stay with them for a night, apologetic for their small house. I thanked them for the offer and, on a whim, not knowing my future plans or timing that precisely, asked her to write down her contact information, and I would let her know.
Five days later, following this wild ferry ride and then beating a nasty headwind south from Tobermory in the rain (not realizing that this big weather system also included several tornado warnings), I arrived at the home of Muffy and Zane and their two children Zev (5) and Roz (3), indeed a small but cozy home in the woods, with chickens, rabbits, a garden and the most interesting, full-sized canoe as a mantle in their living room.
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| Muffy, holding Roz, with Zev on the tractor |
They operate a guiding service, and Zane was away consulting on trail construction. I was both entertained and entertaining the children and enjoyed a steak dinner, great conversation, a shower, and a sofa to crash on. The relief from the rain was palpable, and the next morning the skies cleared as I was escorted to the end of the driveway by Zev on his bicycle.
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| One of my favorite pictures, taken by Muffy, with Zev seeing me off. He was thinking seriously about which direction I should head! |
The remainder of the great lakes tour along the shoreline of Lake Ontario was relatively easy riding, quite scenic, and revealed to me for the first time the English heritage of Ontario in a major way. Starting in Owen Sound at the south end of Huron to Kingston on the east end, where the lake drains into the St. Lawrence, the architecture was distinctly of English heritage.
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| This plain, rectangular plan with the center gable is repeated everywhere with only slight modifications, reminiscent and likely informed by English gothic designs |
The brick farm cottages of a common design, the town structures crowding the narrow, crooked streets, and the orientation of the villages to the lake as the primary transportation link back in the day made me feel like I was back in England. It was a sudden and stark reminder of the history of English settlement in this part of Canada when I arrived and slowly rode and walked the sidewalks in the town of Cobourg, founded in the late 1700's by English Loyalists.
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| Former Cobourg City Hall, now an Art Gallery could be in England |
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| King Street in Cobourg |
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| Serious discussion about bicycle travel with Jill at the Hello Cobourg Cafe, though the serious expression momentary. |
I stopped for lunch at a sidewalk café and was quickly joined for lunch and casual conversation by Jill, herself riding a folding bicycle and living in the town, who had many questions about me, my trip, and preparations thereon. A fleeting moment captured; I was all smiles that day.
So, the moral of this story is always stop for apple fritters!
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