Second day on the road, Tues., Sept. 5: Paul's Creek to Denbigh, in the Madawaska
Today, I’m tracing a route I know well. It snakes through the back country of the Ottawa Valley into the southern reaches of the Canadian Shield, traversing part of the watershed of the Madawaska River, a major tributary of the Ottawa and a splendid canoeing river. The road runs past rocks and lakes, rivers, marshes and trees, and through tiny settlements like Elphin and Snow Road Station as well as the villages of Ompah and Plevna. It also crosses the route of the old Kingston and Pembroke railway, the “K and P”, or the “Kick and Push”, as it was known by its passenger—today, a rough-and ready trail for mountain bikes, hikers, and (in the winter) snowmobiles.
With the night’s storm over, I enjoyed a sunny cool day, the first maples turning in the woods beside the road. After at least five hours of hills, I will reach my friends, Richard and Kate, at their farmstead near Vennachar Junction, just west of the village of Denbigh. Their farm has been in the family since the 1860’s, when Richard’s forebears emigrated from Silesia (then in East Prussia). Its acreage is an indicator of the terrain: The farm covers 1300 acres, of which just 75 are arable. The rest of the land is forest or wetland. The farm was active for nearly a century, until the 1950s, but the family never had a tractor, as the fields were simply too small. Agriculture was a matter of labour by horses and humans.
Along the road, a cyclist can still see farms on pockets of good soil. Most are now returning to bush, although some are still active as hobby farms, horse stables or alpaca ranches. The 19th century settlers—Irish, German, Polish, Scots—often worked in the lumber trade or in small mines to augment the meagre returns of farming. Both lumbering and mining are now radically diminished. Current economic activity along the route features sand and gravel, a less-than-exotic product of the last Ice Age, but one more plentiful than topsoil. Tourism and cottagers generate modest revenues, as do sugar-bush operations. (The latter produce A-grade maple syrup, but like so much else, are threatened by climate change.) And, artists’ studios are popping up, their occupants enjoying the quiet, the beauty, and the low land prices. Precious few cafés, motels, or diners survive—on each trip, I notice another one has closed.
There is a darker side to the landscape and history of the region – the relentless hardship and widespread poverty. Better pens than mine have described it well. Al Purdy’s poem, “The country north of Belleville”, includes these lines: “Yet this is the country of defeat/where Sisyphus rolls a big stone/year after year up the ancient hills…” Peter Pearson’s 1968 National Film Board production, “The Best Damn Fiddler from Calabogie to Kaladar”, in sombre black and white, features a fine performance by the young Margot Kidder.
I covered the 85 kms of very hilly countryside in the usual five hours. The last 20 kms to my friends’ farmhouse includes 12 tough hills in the 8-11% range. The repetitive climbs are tiring—another feature of this route—although the Raven’s 36 x 17 setup meant that I didn’t have to use 1st gear at all, even with 40-plus lbs of gear, food, fuel and water. I arrived in plenty of time for an evening of good food (with the cheddar a welcome addition) and talk, and an early evening in a large comfy bed (with no need for a tarp).
Some photos from the first two days' ride:
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Today's ride: 85 km (53 miles)
Total: 195 km (121 miles)
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