better than a ford feces
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
At 9:00 or so, I got up and had highway 400 to face. I noticed my mum's cousin Carolyn from next door walking through the yard. I said hi, and she invited me for some coffee. I went over, and we watched a turtle trying to lay eggs in the sand. I think we scared it (her) off though, cos I'm pretty sure she didn't lay any.
Then I decided that since Tobermory was clearly out of the picture (I would have had to have left at dawn) I set my sights on Owen Sound, where there's a waterfall that I want to re-shoot.
And headed off. I went across the peninsula that separates the Midland area from the main body of Georgian Bay, and toodled slowly among the muscle builders and families and retirees and kids racing beaten-up late-90's Tauruses that make up the population of Wasaga beach and all points north. Eventually, I got to Collingwood, where I had a mediocrityburger at Wendy's.
Then I got up on top of Blue Mountain at exactly the same spot where Charlie, Jon, Erano, and I once stopped (about five years ago when we all would still hang around together). I spotted two couples heading off along a small path, and decided to see where they were going. They were heading, it turns out, to the top of the nearest chairlift for the ski hill, there. Where the view is stunning.
Anyway, from there I meandered west and south, and eventually found myself in the 'Grey (county) Highlands', where all of the mailboxes have Scottish names, and where there is not only a Rob Roy Rd but a Rob Roy Society. From there, I traipsed south and east, and eventually came out at what my sources tell me is the highest point along the escarpment. I took the last of my IR roll pics, and headed south into the wild and semi-paved region S/SW of Stayner.
If you ever get a chance to drive something reasonably zippy in Southern Ontario, that's where you'll want to drive it. I actually had fun in the Sunfire (which is not entirely unlike a Ford Feces in general demeanor/market-focus, but which unlike the Feces doesn't make you think your life is in danger). I took all kinds of roads literally called 'such and such Sideroad' and twice slightly fishtailed while wending through the region. Where Every Single Town has a Scottish name. Like Dunedin, Creemore (well, I passed Creemor), Kilgorie, etc.
Anyway, it was lots of fun. I burned my out-the-window arm, which was only out the window when I wasn't clutching the wheel with both hands and praying that the next corner wasn't littered with children. I bet a Subaru WROX or something would be a lot of fun in there. Actually, I came across one guy driving a Subaru of some description, and he was grinning like a maniac.
I entered the city (well, Brampton) at about 3:15. At 4:10 I was having a much needed leak in my own bathroom's low-flush POS toilet. I don't know where all the weekend traffic was, and I don't care.
Then I fell asleep for two hours. When I got up again, I checked my email and learned that Uncle Bill had died.