Middle-earth

Wed. 27 July:  Middle-earth

Lothlorien:  one of the most beautiful places in Middle-earth

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

In Middle-earth is a little-known kingdom called Lothlorien.  Today three adventurous colleagues and I mounted an expedition into the area. 

Maps are a little hard to come by, and are quite old, so we were uncertain of their accuracy.  By good fortune we had arranged to meet a long-time resident of the area, John, who was also keen to explore his land.

As the reader will know, Lothlorien is considered one of the most beautiful and "elvish" places in Middle-earth.  It stands between the southeastern end of the Misty Mountains and the river Anduin. The river Celebrant runs through the wood from its source in the mountains to the west through to the Anduin to the east.  The woods of Lothlórien extend south into Fangorn Forest.  There is no true border between the two territories, but the inhabitants of either land can walk freely at their leisure across whatever borders there may be.

It was with a slight hesitation that we plunged into the dark woods, with no discernible paths to follow.  We did have one advantage over Bilbo Baggins, having our GPS device with us.  As a result, we were able to check our progress through the rugged wilderness, and to make critical adjustments to our direction.  We created a circular walk of just over five kilometres across the ridges and through the woodlands.  Being Lothlorien, there seemed to be a different measure of time and distance here, and so it might have been much further. 

Few people have had the good fortune to explore this part of Middle-earth.  Even John, who has lived here for many decades, was enjoying the adventure of carving out a new route.  We crossed a slippery log over a swampy river, and I found to my surprise, as I stepped off the log, that the ground was not firm under my right foot.  I rescued the situation with just one muddy leg. 

We passed several ancient tall trees; one maple, we felt, might have been over two hundred years old.  Dropping down a steep, forested ridge, we came to a tiny stream that over centuries had carved a gash in the rocks.  Being an engineer, I imagined a graceful bridge spanning the creek.  A short way upstream we were able simply to step across the rocks.

Further along on our journey we came out of the dark forest into sunny fields.  How long ago, we wondered, did some person (or elf?) live here?  We found piles of stones where industrious farmers had cleared the fields, but no sign of a house foundation. There seemed to be no access into this lonely area, and soon the trees will once more swallow up the open fields.

Taking a bold turn to the left, up the steep slopes of the ridge, through a cedar forest, we came out onto high, open ground.  Two gigantic powerlines strode across the landscape – providing electricity to far-off cities which lay well beyond the borders of our maps.  We could see across the grand, rolling lonely hills to a distant lake.  This would be a separate adventure.

Returning safely to John’s hillside community, we strolled through his own private system of woodland trails, leading to an idyllic lake, and then up through meadows filled with colorful purple and yellow wildflowers. 

It was clear to us why Lothlorien is known as one of the most beautiful places in Middle-earth.  We felt very privileged to have been given access to this world.  It was with reluctance that we returned to the Shire through the quaint villages of Ompah, Snow Road, and Elphin (honestly!), on the lesser-used byways of this enchanted land.

We hesitated before plunging into the dark woods

No trails here - we skirted this swamp to  the right

A careful negotiation of a beaver dam

Good route-finding decisions were made

An ancient tree

Emerging into the fields...

...where we searched for any signs of old foundations...

...finding only large piles of stones where early settlers had cleared the land

Emerging from the forest high up on the ridge

Powerline striding across the lonely hills

Perfect route-finding

John's idyllic lake

Middle-earth beauty

Hiking Hazards

Sun. 24 July:  Hiking Hazards

Our hike leaders give us a safety briefing at the start of our journey

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

“Panais Sauvage”!  The words seemed to jump right off the warning sign. 

Somehow the French name for wild parsnip has a more striking resonance.  Either way, we were treated to a grand display of this rapidly expanding hazard as we started off along McLaren Lake Road this morning.

For hikers looking for a challenge, there is no finer test than travelling from one end of the Rideau Trail to the other, a journey of over three hundred kilometres, through often wild and rugged countryside.  We call this challenge an “End-to-End”, and those hiking club members completing the trip are rewarded with a special badge to be worn with pride.  This year, a series of “end-to-end” hikes has been organized by the three clubs which make up the Rideau Trail Association, allowing keen walkers to complete the whole trail this year, in manageable stages.  Our journey today would bring us into the beautiful Town of Perth from the south, a distance of thirteen kilometres.

While this may have seemed to be a simple stroll through the woods and along backroads, it was not without its hazards.  The wild parsnip soon disappeared as we left the road behind and plunged into the woods. We soon came to the Hunt Camp.  Each time I pass beside this ramshackle building in a clearing in the trees, I half expect an angry hunter to emerge with a loaded gun warning us of the dangers of the woods, but luckily this has never happened!  In fact, the hut lies empty for most of the year, and in hunting season we stay well away.

Our next hazard was our favourite footbridge, skilfully constructed by fellow club members a number of years ago, and now sagging alarmingly in the middle.  With our party today were two young men with fully loaded backpacks, on a “test run” for a long walk along the trail.  As they crossed the bridge I held my breath.  The bridge held.

Other hazards along this route included a barb wire fence close to the path – which we flagged - and a few low hanging branches which we removed as we travelled along.  And we knew always to be on the lookout for poison ivy.  And as for ticks, enough said!  They are always our greatest worry.  But of course the biggest test on this section of trail is the boardwalk.  This narrow pathway, only two boards wide, is a thin lifeline through the swamp.  We spend so much energy keeping this link connected – carrying heavy cedar boards across the fields and through the woods, to replace broken sections, trimming the reeds and grass away from the route, keeping an eye out for the return of that hyper-active beaver.  We crossed the swamp today without breaking any boards – or legs. 

We emerged from the woods onto a side road where we heard a barking dog.  This was the house where a fellow hiker had been surprised last year by two aggressive dogs.  Holding my breath, I was relieved to see the owner taking a firm hold of his animal's collar as we passed the driveway. 

Soon we turned onto the attractive-sounding Wildlife Road.  Not so attractive today.  This road, running straight across a wetland, was being widened and resurfaced.  A few vehicles passed by, kicking up the dust as we tried not to breathe.

More farmers’ fields and pathways brought us into Perth, where our final hazard was the crossing of the busy Scotch Line road. This weekend Perth has been celebrating its 200^th birthday and the place was bulging at the seams.  We crossed safely.

Don’t let me put you off.  Despite all these hazards, walking along the Rideau Trail is much more likely to extend your life, not shorten it!  See you on the Trail.

Passing a heavy concentration of wild parsnip

The bridge sagged, but held!

Threading through the swamp

Dusty gravel on Wildlife Road

Negotiating crops

Our hike leaders with our two young colleagues, who are
 soon setting out on an adventure along the Rideau Trail.

Biking the O&Q (9): Twiddy Road (Kilometre 120) to End of Line

Tues. 19 July:  Biking the O&Q (9): Twiddy Road (Kilometre 120) to End of Line

Mission accomplished:  148 km journey
from Glen Tay was completed today

It’s done!  I have completed my journey along the old Ontario and Quebec railway line from Glen Tay southwest to Preneveau, a distance of 148 kilometres. 

Since each journey involved biking back along the line to the car, I have in fact travelled 296 kilometres, in nine legs - an average length of 33 kilometres per leg.  This may not sound very impressive, but the surface was unpaved gravel, often rough, and I used my heavy mountain bike the whole way.

This final stretch of 28 kilometres (total 56 km return journey) was the longest of the nine legs.  I had driven over 127 kilometres from Perth to the trailhead at Twiddy Road, and so it seemed sensible to persevere and finish the job today.

A couple of features stood out on this final journey:  First the railway crossing just west of Bonar Law (Highway 14), where two railway lines crossed at an angle, called a “diamond crossing”.  It’s now just two snowmobile trails intersecting in the wooded countryside.  A tiny shelter sits at the junction.   More impressive, another few kilometres west, is the Crowe River crossing.  Here the railway had to negotiate the river by crossing an island, requiring two substantial bridges.  Today’s structures are light-weight steel lattice bridges sitting on the old bridge abutments.  The river flows peacefully below, and there are plenty of perfect picnic spots where the traveller can relax at the river’s edge.

The end of the line is sudden.  The trail hits a wire fence, beyond which lies a rusty railway track, hidden by tall weeds.  If I trespassed onto this line, it would take me into Havelock and the old station building in 4.8 kilometres.  At the spot where I stood, the eastbound tracks swung north, crossing the busy Highway 7, to some hidden destination.  It seemed to me that no trains had been this way for many years.  A simple sign on a post proclaimed:  “End of Track:  Mile 90.8”.

It had taken me three hours and twenty minutes to travel west from Twiddy Road to the end of the tracks.  My return journey took a whole hour less.  I was flying.  There were only a couple of places where I felt much of a gradient.  It seemed mostly flat.

Along the way I came across two or three quad drivers, and each were careful to slow down and make room for my bike.  There was little in the way of wildlife today, for no particular reason.  At just one isolated spot along the line was a gigantic patch of wild parsnip.  Luckily this was the only place I saw it today.

Perhaps I’ll write a brief summary of the highlights of this fascinating journey.  In the meantime, here are some of the pictures from today’s last leg.

Now what’s next?

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

A slight rise in the gradient looked like a hill

Farming country - at last!

A typical road crossing - there weren't  many of them

A perfect morning for a bike ride

The Crowe River and one of two bridges
which cross the two arms of the river

Looking downstream to Callaghan's Rapids

Crossing the second bridge

View upstream:  Crowe River

A creaky bridge

Racing towards the finish line

End of the Trail

End of Line:  Looking back (Eastwards) towards my trail.
The overgrown line from Havelock curves away to the left (North)

Two or three quads seen today - all very courteous

Job Done!  Now looking for my next challenge

Biking the O&Q (8): Tweed (Kilometre 100) to Twiddy Road (Kilometre 120)

Mon. 11 July:  Biking the O&Q (8): Tweed (Kilometre 100) to Twiddy Road (Kilometre 120)

Beautiful Stoco Lake

On a dusty shelf sits my cowboy hat – a reminder of that crazy week each July when Calgary magically turns into the Wild West.  In fact, the Calgary Stampede is on this week, in case you’re heading out to Alberta. 

But you don’t have to travel that far.  A little more than an hour southwest of Perth lies the village of Tweed.  Usually it’s a sleepy, relaxed place, nestled beside beautiful Stoco Lake, but for one weekend each year, all hell breaks loose.  On the last weekend of July, it becomes Ontario’s version of Cowtown, for the “Tweed Stampede”.  I’m not kidding!  Not that I’ve attended it – yet.

Anyway, back to my story.  Tweed was my base today.  From the pretty lakeside park, I first turned east, to travel the short distance to my last stopping point at Kilometre 100.  Next I travelled west to reach Kilometre 120 in two separate stages.  It sounds a bit complicated, but it’s not really.

A sturdy metal bridge spans the Moira River in Tweed.  The sides of the bridge have been turned into an art gallery of brightly colored cartoon characters enjoying the outdoors.  Someone with imagination and a sense of humor was set free here.

The railway line crosses several quiet streets, and runs beside a busy lumber mill, before heading out of town in a southwesterly direction.

I had imagined that I would now be in more open countryside, with fields and farms.  I was only partially right.  There were still many large swamps and pretty lakes, and this remained a lonely country to travel across.  In fact, I rode over sixteen kilometres before I hit the first major road, Highway 62. 

Just east of that highway was the most impressive structure on the O&Q to date; a high level crossing of another disused railway line.  The other line ran northwards towards Madoc, following the green valley floor. My route crossed overhead on a short bridge.  This would have been a sight; two steam trains crossing at right angles, one high above the other.

The other main feature along this section was Drag Lake, an angler’s paradise.  Two guys were out on the lake fishing, surrounded by ducks and geese.

I returned to Tweed, my mountain bike racing along the loose gravel, then drove westwards to Twiddy Road, an isolated corner of the countryside, at Kilometre 120.  Here I could park safely off the road.  It didn’t take me long to bike east to Highway 62 and back again.  There was no safe parking at that highway, so now I was well positioned for my next (and possibly final) stage of the journey.

Today I shared my trail with several  fellow-travellers:  a lost cow and its calf, which ran ahead of me for a while, two gossipy rabbits, two separate women out for a run or a walk, and a farmer with his tractor.  It was better than travelling alone.

Now I felt that I was almost in sight of my finish line, at Preneveau, only one or two journeys away.  In the meantime, back in “Stampede City”, I relaxed beside the lake under dark blue skies.

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

Lakeside park in Tweed:  start of today's journey

Bridge carries the O&Q into Tweed village

Playful art along the sides of the bridge

This is definitely a "shared use" trail

The railway passes beside a lumber yard in the middle of Tweed village

Fields and farms

I shared the trail with other users today.....

...including this pair

Still many swamps along the route

Wonderful biking country

Old railway crossing.  My route above....

...and looking north from the O&Q line

Drag Lake....

...and resident wildlife

Heading west from Ivanhoe Station

Swan lake

It wasn't only animals which shared my trail today.

Kilometre 120 west of Twiddy Road:  my stopping place today