Category Archives: My Travels

When I travel, these are the kinds of things I like to see and do.

i-26 interstate highway in Mars Hill, North Carolina

Where You Are When You Hear the News

Gord and Roy
In my best recollections, when I heard that Gord Downie died, I was driving on Perimeter Road in Greenville, South Carolina. I was heading toward Ethox Chemicals and was wondering how I could turn my transport truck around in their tight, gated parking lot. It’s not crazy hard to back into their docks; just time-consuming. I was listening to CBC (the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) on Sirius satellite radio, when the news came. Within moments I stopped on the side of the road because I was too upset to be amongst people.

Or maybe I remember incorrectly. Perhaps this scenario happened when Roy Halladay died. A quick bit of research tells me that my confusion makes sense. They passed away three weeks apart, to the day, in October and November 2017. I was equally sad in both cases.

For those not familiar with these two legends: Downie was the lead singer and songwriter for the iconic Canadian rock band The Tragically Hip. He died after a long and highly publicized battle with glioblastoma, brain cancer. Halladay was a Hall of Fame pitcher who spent most of his best years with my beloved Toronto Blue Jays. He died tragically when a small plane he was piloting crashed into the Gulf of Mexico.

Even though Downie’s death was expected, I cried more than I thought I would. I reflected on the Hip’s final concert, in August 2016. They performed in their hometown Kingston, Ontario. The show was simulcast on huge screens in hundreds of locations across Canada, including Burlington’s Spencer Smith Park, our gorgeous lakefront oasis. Kim and I were there, taking in each song from the relative comfort of our blanket on the grass. Downie displayed so much raw emotion, on his face and in his voice, clearly understanding that this was the last time he’d be singing live. By the time the last song, Ahead By A Century, was over, we could see a lot of moist eyes in the crowd of thousands of people. Continue reading

latta, south carolina, truck stop, swamp, snakes, gators, bears, boars

Swampy Southern Things

“There could be gators in there,” said the short round trucker in overalls. “Probably three footers.”

“Oh yeah?” I exclaimed.

Both him and his friend nodded their heads in agreement. The three of us were standing a few short feet from the swampy muck at the back of the truck stop. We had just met after I returned from relieving myself behind my trailer.

I rounded the corner and there they were: two short, oval, middle-aged locals who appeared every bit a stereotype of a southern hillbilly. They were standing next to their flatbed tractor-trailers on this unseasonably warm September evening.

It’s my nature to just start talking. So, I did.

I joked about the possibilities of there being snakes in the swamp, an unruly mixture of disgusting pea green liquid, long grass, garbage and mud. They seemed to be sizing me up for a few short seconds.

The talkative one then pulled out his phone and showed me snapshots of a skinned and mounted python that he’d killed with his shotgun in a town to the nearby south. He mentioned some specific detail about the gun. It meant nothing to me. I tried to look impressed.

Soon came the revelation about gators. The next photo was of a wild boar. They both assured me it was possible to see such a monstrous creature here in the dead of the night. Continue reading

bayfield ontario sunset

Sunset in Bayfield, Ontario; overlooking Lake Huron from Pioneer Park.

For many people in Southwestern Ontario, the epitome of beauty in summertime can be found in a Lake Huron sunset. The Huron Coast is long, spanning 325 kilometres from the Town of Tobermory in the north to the City of Sarnia in the south. This photo is from the idyllic village of Bayfield, located along the central-south section of the coast, just south of the historic town of Goderich. We had the pleasure of visiting on August 12 and 13, 2015. On the evening of the 12th, with our stomachs full from a good meal at the Black Dog Village Pub & Bistro, and fresh frozen yogurt from across the street, we ventured down the road to Pioneer Park, where flat land meets cliff side and a rocky beach below. As the sun disappeared slowly to the west, a small group of weekday visitors looked on in amazement. The Lake Huron sunset happens every day along this coast, and it never gets old.