One of more than a dozen rail trails I followed in my God to Gat crossing of Southern Ontario.

Before I’d climbed aboard Dervla, my red Bike Friday, to begin pedalling on my solo 800km crossing of Southern Ontario, I had proof. Ontario’s lack of respect isn’t due to a shortage of spectacularity, it’s because we do a lousy job of identifying and celebrating the spectacular province where I was born and live.

Butter tarts — even maple bacon butter tarts

The early proof was Goderich, where I began my adventure So, so beautiful with its yellow brick and stone houses overlooking ocean-like Lake Huron and the world’s largest salt mine (think Sifto). Despite what other Canadians may believe, Ontario has the greatest diversity of landscapes and people, architecture and biodiversity. The second warmest province, it has cold snowy winters and hot dry summers. We have a plentitude of lakes, rivers, ponds, kames, kettles, cliffs, hardwood forests, meadows, prairies and wildlife unmatched by other provinces despite what Canadians might think. Ontario may not have Newfoundland’s quirkiness, PEI’s charm or Alberta’s Rockies. It may not have Nova Scotia’s fiddlers or Victoria’s mild climate nor does it have Manitoba’s polar bears — instead, Ontario has polar bears of its own. It has caribou too. It has a saltwater coastline in Hudson and James Bay — the southern shore of the Arctic Ocean. We have whales and seals. Ontario has three mountains and, of course, Niagara Falls. It has the largest Indigenous population of any province and, lest we forget, Ontario sells more milk in bags than anywhere else in the world!

Know how to play euchre? Then you have a connection to the country’s most populous province. BC might have Nanaimo Bars, but Ontario has Thousand Island Salad Dressing and is arguably the butter tart capital of Canada. Peameal bacon, beaver tails, pickerel and perch, maple syrup right from the farm, Hawaiian pizza, ice wine, Hawkins, the world’s best cheesies, the list goes on. We have Carolinian forests complete with shagbark hickory and tulip trees. Peanuts and kiwis grow in Ontario. There are bank barns, and stone barns, red-brick and yellow-brick farmhouses, stone mills converted into hotels and homes (I live in one.), traditional main streets, lines and sideroads.

My impetus to go on this Ontario-crossing adventure was three-fold:

1. I envied Newfoundland. Having spent time there recently, I coveted Canada’s youngest and most popular province for its distinct and colourful character: its screech, fish-kissing, its cod tongues and jellybean houses, its “tirdy instead of thirty,” its bake apple and partridge berries, salt cod & brewis. St. John’s has The Rooms! The Atlantic Ocean. Dolphins and puffins, especially puffins. Ontario, by comparison, seemed so boooring.

2. Looking at the map of the Trans Canada Trail I figured that I could ride practically the whole way, the entire way across Southern Ontario, on trails. (I needed to do a little more homework before leaving Goderich!).

3. I needed an adventure. Some kind of journey that required back to back days on a trail or a river or an ocean.

I wrote in my journal: “Eleven cycling days down and, if all goes well, five more to go. I mostly stuck to my plan until today. Up until now the rail trails have been amazing, but yesterday, 15km short of my destination in Campbellford, my luck ran out. The Northumberland Rail Trail was a bumpy, gravelly ATV track complete with deep unavoidable puddles. Good thing I have fenders! Despite the terrain or, more accurately, because of it, the constant concentration needed to stay on Dervla made the time go quickly when compared to the easy ride along a long flat rail trail. I haven’t counted but I’d guess I’ve been on part of about ten different rail trails since I began in Goderich!”

I hit the road (as opposed to a rail trail) today and what a great change it was. All paved, rolling hills (none too steep), not much traffic and lots of farms and farm animals, plus a road side garter snake to amuse me. I hadn’t realized how much slower a rail trail can be than the open road (without big hills). I arrived here in Tweed at about 11am! I’m staying in a motel situated at the edge of a lovely lake where the geese are keeping me company as I wait for my room to be ready. As I was waiting I noted the Duffers Chip Truck. As I walked over to take a photo of it I thought French Fries, why not?? So I went over to order. “What size?” she (Mrs Duffer?) asked. “Medium,” I replied. “You get a small.” Mrs Duffer barked. I looked down at my thighs thinking they’re not that bad. I looked up and there was my small order. I applied salt and malt vinegar and as I did, Mrs Duffer grabbed the condiments back and announced, “I have a situation.” The next thing I knew she drove away, chip truck and all!

Anyway all is good. I can recommend Mrs. Duffer’s fries.

On to Tamworth tomorrow and then Sydenham (near Harrowsmith) and then the big challenge: the Cataraqui Trail, or part of it. It will be a rough ride on Dervla over two days made more challenging by all the rain. The trail crosses the Frontenac Arch, a UNESCO Biosphere. I managed to find a place to stay, and a very ritzy one at that, half way through. See Stonegate B&B near Portland/Elgin. I suspect I’ll need it presuming I get that far.

Then it’s in to Smiths Falls, Carlton Place, Stittsville (I’ve always wanted to go to Stittsiville) and Ottawa/Gatineau — I hope!!

Wish me luck and Elbows Up.

Having successfully completed my journey, my story continued. I wrote, “My God to Gat (Goderich to Gatineau) journey was an adventure, especially the lightning strikes on the Cataraqui Trail near Sydenham! I was hosted by an amazing collection of friends, innkeepers and complete strangers. I enjoyed sharing meals or scones and being encouraged along the route that changed as I learned more about southern Ontario’s rail trails. They range from a superhighway rail trail (the Ottawa Valley Recreation Trail) to the near unmanageable (the Northumberland Trail) to the not manageable (Hastings County Trail). I loved them all for their character that was sometimes quirky (G2G), sometimes exquisitely beautiful, and other times somewhat ornery (Northumberland).

I learned a lot about how varied and gorgeous our province is. We are very lucky. From beautiful Goderich on Lake Huron with its largest salt mine in the world (think Sifto) to the enormous, mostly Mennonite farms that stretch across southwestern Ontario (I cycled from Blythe to Millbank (59km) without having to change gears), then leaving the land of yellow brick homes for the stone ones of Elora and Fergus where some hills appeared. I cycled into Alton, my home, where I had to climb up and then gloriously coast down (over 2k without pedalling) the Niagara Escarpment.

Then it was on to the Oak Ridges Moraine with some respectable ups and downs (okay, I had to get off and push my bike east of Palgrave), and finally into Uxbridge where I had my only view of Lake Ontario from 40km away.

Leaving Uxbridge, I was into unknown territory. It was fun to visit towns I’d heard of (Lindsay) but never visited or only passed by in a moving car (Peterborough and Campbellford). I loved their downtown main streets bordered by, mostly now red brick buildings, so typical of our province and so unlike other parts of Canada. Water took over as I crossed the Trent River.

In Peterborough, I met the most lovely couple in the Lola café. Hearing my story, they invited me to stay with them – and I did! They provided me with a comfortable bed for the night and the most fabulous dinner made from ingredients that came mostly from her garden. I chatted with the couple’s two daughters loving the enthusiasm of these young women (25 and 18). I also wished their dad a Buen Camino as he’s on the Camino del Norte now. The experience gave me such faith in the goodness of Canadians. They just picked me up in the café, a place owned and managed by Nino from the Philippines. He made a mean latte, which I enjoyed four times in three days!

Then, I stayed for a night on the shores of Stoco Lake in Tweed where I had the French Fry incident!

Here, I left the rail trails as the Hastings County Trail from Tweed to Sharbot Lake is not suitable even for a gravel bike (much less Dervla, my foldable red Bike Friday). But that resulted in my arriving in Tamworth where I fell in love. It was as if I’d disembarked on the Hogwarts Train and found the perfect village. The bookstore alone is worth a visit. I picked up the K&P Trail in Verona and cycled through Harrowsmith (source of Harrowsmith magazine though it was actually created in Camden East, go figure). I continued on roads to Sydenham on the enormous Sydenham Lake and I found but lost a raspberry white chocolate scone from the fabulous Grains & Good Bakery (one of many, too many?, good bakeries that kept me going for an average of 50km per day).

In Sydenham, I continued along the Cataraqui Trail (It began in Harrowsmith), a trail I’d been worried about since I left Goderich. I don’t know why it haunted me, but it did. How rough would it be? Would I encounter bears? Etc. Instead, I left Sydneham following a well maintained easy rail trail and rather than a bear, I had an encounter with a very curious white tailed deer. But my luck ran out a bit further along the Cataraqui. I encountered my first day of rain. It made up for the 15 days of rain I did not have. Not only did it rain buckets, but I’ve never been outdoors with lightening striking so close. It was terrifying. One time, a crack of thunder resulted in me leaping off my moving bike into a crouch with my hands protecting my head. I’m not sure what good it would have done to be in this position, but it was reflex.

What followed was 20 kilometres of riding through puddles and floods and then 10 more kilometres on thick wet grass. But the trail, the Cataraqui, passed through the extraordinary landscape of the Frontenac Arch. Lakes and wetlands abounded and rock cuts hemming in the trail appeared making me feel at home. Though different than the landscape of the Niagara Escarpment (the Frontenac is flat, flat, flat where I rode across it versus the cliffs of the Niagara Escarpment), it felt like nothing I’d passed through before. I understand why locals strongly oppose Alto, the $150-billion proposed high-speed train that would go through this corridor. Someone asked an obvious question: “Tell, me,” he said, “Why do passengers need to go faster?” He and others called it a “vanity” project. I suggested, “sexy” as another descriptor. “An ecological disaster” could be added to the list.

I coincidently met up with my friends who had hosted me in Elora at the Harlem Stonegate B&B. I joined them for dinner in Portland on Big Rideau Lake. We met two couples from Ottawa who were kayaking through the locks on the Rideau Canal. It sounded amazing. I’m adding that journey to my list.

The Cataraqui ended in Smiths Falls, another town I’d heard of but never visited. I had another scone at C’est Tout where the woman who I shared a table with paid for my lunch to celebrate my journey. The night before I’d paid for my friends’ dinner in Portland at the Galley Restaurant as it was their anniversary. Clearly, what goes around comes around.

Then it was another 12km to my first Warm Showers host. Warm Showers is like couch surfing for cyclists. I’ve hosted a number of cyclists over the years and loved the experience. This was my first time being hosted and what a pleasure it was. I was provided with excellent tips on my route, a bed, dinner and breakfast. I experienced the most wondrous Christmas displays and a life-sized singing Grinch – all in the same place. The next morning my host accompanied me for the first 15km along the superhighway Ottawa Valley Recreation Trail on a gorgeous sunny day that was not only my last day, but my longest as well at 89km.

I pedalled through Ottawa following the enormous Ottawa River. When I had my first glimpse of the Parliament Buildings, I stopped and took a photo. The pathway continued getting busier and busier on this sunny Saturday afternoon. I found myself dodging walkers and dogs and fellow cyclists. It was a cultural shock as my route to date had intentionally been through Ontario’s countryside, villages and towns. In other words, “my Ontario.” Having grown up in a village that even now only has about 300 residents, I find cities too energetic for my taste. But it’s a stunning route into our capital, passing below the parliament buildings over a lock. I had to eventually climb up to the Alexandra Bridge. My GPS clocked it as a 9-percent grade! Needless to say, my tired legs weren’t up for it. I made it about halfway and for the third time had to push my bike (#1 was the by-pass around a missing bridge on the Guelph to Goderich Trail on Day 1 and #2 was near Palgrave on the Oak Ridges Moraine).

I only went half way across the bridge as that is the border between Ottawa and Gatineau, Quebec and I wasn’t keen on cycling any further than necessary. I looked back to Ottawa and there was the Chateau Laurier in its splendor.

Then I checked the route to get to where I was staying that night with a friend in Ottawa and it was 11km back the way I’d come!!! It was a long day but it was a glorious one. I felt that happy sadness that comes with successfully completing a longish journey (804km + 11km to my friend’s place!). Dervla, my red Bike Friday (NOT an e-bike), did a great job. No flats, no accidents. No gear problems.

Two days later I was in a Poparide van en route back home. (Poparide is a car-sharing website. It cost me $70 to go to Mississauga.) Believe it or not, VIA trains will NOT take bikes nor will they take checked luggage. Poparide doesn’t take bikes either but sometimes they allow large luggage. With my friend’s help (well he did it all), we broke Dervla down and packed her in cardboard we found in a bin. Not a suitable tribute to Dervla, but it fooled the driver and that’s what was important.

Now work begins on a new book. Another illustrated field journal. It’s daunting but I did a lot of drawing and some mapping along the way so I’m not starting from scratch.

A heartfelt thanks to everyone who hosted me, bought me lunch, allowed me to take their photo, encouraged me with tips and well wishes. I loved the lattes and scones along the way and appreciate all the work down by trail associations along who’s rail trails I pedalled. Keep up the quirky additions: binoculars, troll’s bicycle pumps, chicken warnings. You have no idea how welcome these things are for cyclists and hikers alike. Oh and the odd bench. Love those too.