Day 33 – Walpole Island to Saint Thomas, Ontario, Canada

It struck me today that over seven official (and one unofficial) visits, I have either entered or left Canada on foot, and by plane, bus, car, taxi, canoe, ferry and now also by bicycle. I have also almost been arrested for failing to “Arret” (stop) at a lonely frontier post entering Canada for the first time in Quebec, many years ago, but that is another story. Anyway, I feel like the USA/Canada international frontier holds a special place for me. Today’s crossing was a most enjoyable affair that involved waiting for the little car ferry to arrive at the pretty waterfront in small, unassuming Algonac, MI, USA. It crosses back and forth to Walpole Island on the Canadian side. This morning, its main companion on the water was a fancy sailing ship with three tall masts.

The trip across took about ten minutes and there were three other vehicles on board, although since two were pulling long caravans we were effectively full. A friendly immigration officer allowed me into Canada with just a couple of questions, and that was that. The first difference I noticed, other than the red and white flags, was that the very first Stop sign was in both English and French. I wasn’t prepared for the second one at all, however, which said “Nookshkaan”, as did the one after. It was a clue that I was in First Nation lands. Walpole Island is unceded territory, also going by the native name Bkejwanong. It is traditionally held to be the final resting place of the legendary Shawnee chief and warrior Tecumseh, who successfully united many native peoples to resist the expansion of the USA into native lands. He was killed in the Battle of the Thames, which took place not very far from here, in the Thames Valley, in 1813, and in the intervening years he has become something of a hero in modern culture.

Modern day Walpole Island is strikingly more impoverished than the lands which neighbour it on either side. But over the bridge into the rest of Ontario, things quickly took on a more familiar feel. In truth there are not so many visual differences between here and Michigan. They use the metric system in Canada, so I had to recalibrate my distance calculations into kilometres, which is not the simplest of mental tasks. They have Esso stations instead of Exxon. And lots of Canadian flags, in case you forget where you are. But you would be hard pressed to point to much else that is a giveaway. I will say that the breakfast I was served in the first big town, Wallaceburg, had a distinctly more British feel about it, and when I requested tea, I was not met with confused looks, but rather brought a teapot, a mug and some milk, just like that! I enjoyed this part of the morning sitting on a wooden deck overlooking the Sydenham River, which was the highlight of an otherwise rather drab and uninspiring town.

You could use the same adjectives for the countryside that followed. It was a bit like cycling across the Lincolnshire fens, only without the pretty churches or drainage ditches. The weather was cloudy and cycle friendly and the large wind generators that dotted the horizon were still. The roads were quiet, long and straight.

There isn’t too much else to add. I stopped a couple more times and had a nice tropical salad for lunch, which made a refreshing change. Later at a small store in a village, the shopkeeper told me how he gets a lot of odd people passing through, including one man recently whore wore a long raccoon tail clipped to the back of his trousers!

After that I crossed the River Thames and turned away from London. For the last couple of hours the roads were almost empty and the land became ever so slightly undulating. I passed through Shedden, the self titled “Rhubarb Capital of Ontario” where I was encouraged to “slow down and listen to the rhubarb grow”. It was good riding; but I am hopeful that I will be treated to much better tomorrow when I take a route along the northern shores of Lake Erie, which lies less than an hour’s cycle to the south of my overnight stop. I’m looking forward to breakfast at the beach.