New trails

Kinda fell out of the saddle for posts the last while, but I'm back with some good news.

Last year I joined IMBA Canada's Regional Trail Advisory Committee and have been working on developing singletrack opportunities in Lanark County. My vision is to develop a route joining Carleton Place, Appleton, Almonte and Pakenham. While it's an ambitious goal, I believe you need to aim high in these matters and fortunately I've been able to make some great progress in the past few months.

A few weeks ago I presented my idea to the Mississippi Mills Rec Committee and received and encouraging response. It turns out the municipality owns two chunks of land that are open for trail development. One is out in Lavant Township and has just been earmarked for development as horseriding trails. The other is a 1000 acre tract near Mt. Pakenham that currently has no development plan. Council would welcome a proposal to develop walking/biking trails on this land, so that's one thing I'm now working on.

Any proposal for trails would follow the IMBA model of sustainable trail development which is a gold-standard adopted by the likes of Parks Canada. The model covers everything from access issues, liability, master planning, management and trail construction. While it's awfully tempting to just get out there and cut trail, the reality is that part represents only the tip of the iceberg. The real effort is in all the management aspects so landowners and trail users alike are happy with the results.

There are some other exciting trail developments I look forward to announcing once I have more planning in place. Not sure how much I'll get done this summer though. We're building a house and trying to get our current house ready for sale. This and the weather have kept me off two wheels for a while.

Lots more to post but not much time. Stay tuned!

PS, if you know anyone looking for a nicely renovated bungalow in a great neighbourhood of Almonte, contact me!

Adventures in water crossing - Part 3

Since I haven't had much time to ride this season, when opportunity finally knocked several weeks ago during a period of fine weather, I jumped on the steed and headed for an evening cruise. In my haste to profit from this good fortune, I neglected to strap on my tool/spares bag which is wise insurance when riding out in Lanark County. Ah, but what could possibly go wrong? This was an evening stroll, not an adventure ride!

After a spin up to White Lake I decided to take a diversion back through Sleepy Hollow Rd, a nice unopened track that parallels White Lake Road through the woods. I've ridden it many times. A bit rough, it hides the occasional puddle but is otherwise quite innocuous.

About halfway along the trail is a puddle between two little slopes that I've crossed many times. It's only a few inches deep. However, this time, just as I slowed down and approached, I noticed a beaver swimming across in front of me. Uh oh. Couldn't stop, wasn't going fast enough to get through, and as I wallowed perfectly into the middle of the where the beaver just was, my front wheel sank into the mire. Crap! The water was about 2 feet deep! I came off on the right but my foot kept going down... down... where is the bottom?! Before I could stop it, my bike tipped over, the tailpipe filled with water, and the engine quit. I was up to my hips in soft gluey muck, struggling to keep my KLR above water. But with each heave, I just drove my legs deeper into the muck.

That morning I'd cut and stacked about 5 mature trees worth of firewood. After 6 hours of cutting, I was bagged. It was all I could do at this point to right my bike. Five times I deadlifted it before I was able to balance it upright and wiggle around to the front. By this time, the sun was setting and I had only about 45 minutes of light left. I managed to winch it out of the puddle by grabbing the spoke on the front wheels. Mud everywhere, I was soaked, and the deer flies and mosquitoes were fierce.

Frustration at my own idiocy drove me to push the bike about 200m down the trail. Mercifully, it was generally downhill, but eventually I hit a slope that I couldn't push the bike up and decided to just walk out. Incredibly I got a cell signal and was able to call my brother to bail me out. While walking out, I met a guy on a quad who graciously gave me a tow the rest of the way. The bike was flooded and not a chance of starting it with a dead battery that I had meant to change all season.

Next day, I disassembled my bike to inspect the damage. Incredibly, nothing serious besides water in the tailpipe all the way to the head. Once I drained that and installed a new battery and changed the oil, it fired up no problem. If I'd had my tools, I could probably have fixed it on the trail in a pinch. Lesson learned. Still, I'm amazed at how rugged the KLR is. Despite these tales of abuse, I really do try to look after it and perhaps in recognition of that, it rewards me with faithful performance.

Clayton 2B

Despite all the fine weather we've had lately, I've hardly touched any bike--motorized or not--for the past few months. Just been too busy this year. Today I had to break the spell. So, mist notwithstanding, I headed out for a little cruise on the KLR as a reward for cutting brush and firewood all morning. But, where to go?

Clouds seemed threatening up towards Pakenham, so naturally that's the way I headed. My bike led me, Ouija board-like, towards White Lake and before I knew it my knobbies were turning onto the California Road. Might as well go along for the ride by this point, so there I was, bouncing along this lovely favourite trail with fresh woods air in my face. It was almost a let-down ending up in the Tatlock core, battling traffic and waiting for lights to change. But got through rush-hour OK and figured a peek at the marble quarry was in order. Much expanded excavation since the last time I was there. It's a pretty nifty place to check out.

Procrastinating my way back to Almonte, I thought I should finally check out the 2B concession just off the Tatlock Rd. before Gemmill's General Store. It's alway's intrigued me, but being so close to it I've always figured "next time". Much to my surprise, it didn't end in a private laneway like so many other dead-end concessions in the area. On the contrary, there's a delicious old road sneaking off into the woods. I couldn't resist. I road about 2-3 more kms before my nagging sense of better judgement won the debate and I turned around to head home before dark.

The track seems reasonably well travelled, although I saw no new tire tracks which suggests it actually goes somewhere useful and may even be a through-route. A look at Google Maps suggests many possibilities. There's a maze of lakes and swamps in that area, and the satellite imagery hints tantalizingly at many possible tracks through the wilderness. This is a route where you'll want to bring a GPS and a repair kit for sure.

I'll be checking out this one again at my earliest opportunity. It looks like there's about 8-15km of track to follow before you come out on a dead-end side road off a 90 degree corner on the Bellamy Mills Rd. There were many well-travelled side tracks to explore as well. I suspect they head to hunting or logging areas. It's rideable with dual-sport tires, but I would advise knobbies if it's wet. There are some good ruts, rocks and gravel that you'll need to wiggle around, and the trail undulates with puddles in the dips. It's about half a grade rougher than the California Road, and no worse than any of the off-road trails around the K&P, like the E series.

Hunting season is coming fast, so if you want to explore in Lanark County, you basically have until the end of September and then you'll want to paint your bike orange, wear a safety vest, and stay off the trails.

Why does mountain biking suck in the Ottawa region?

It does. And it shouldn't.

Notwithstanding the heroic efforts of the Ottawa Mountain Biking Association, who have selflessly and persistently built some fantastic trails in Kanata Lakes, the Ottawa region is inexcusably devoid of good mountain biking. This despite having a world-class landscape with immense trail potential and a vibrant local cycling community.

I'm not making an uninformed claim. As a mountain biker since 1987, when I moved to Ottawa in 1994 one of the first things I did was explore the region's rides. Since then I've ridden pretty much every metre of rideable trail and road within 100 km of Almonte, where I live. Those were some epic days. Now I'm exploring further by motorbike, trying to find untapped potential.

Tragically, much of the good stuff I used to ride years ago has disappeared under the developers paving machine, been marked "no trespassing", been legislated out of access by the NCC, or succumbed to the fear of liability. Consider the following rides:

- Gatineau Park. Once the local riding mecca with many kilometers of epic technical singletrack, the NCC has incrementally banned riding from almost every interesting area except the #1 fireroad. Great... your only option is to weave around families pushing strollers, pets on 20' leashes, and groups walking five abreast. No one's happy with that situation, least of whom riders. Of course, the NCC justifies their actions as "protecting nature". I'm all for protecting nature too, which is why it baffles me that the NCC's "environmental" activity includes allowing rich people to build houses in the park, roads to be blasted into tourist sites, and pristine remote singletrack to be bulldozed and widened so strollers can navigate it (think trails north of Lac Phillippe). Don't get me started on the NCC's rock climbing restrictions!

- Kanata Lakes. The poorly conceived Terry Fox extension planned for this year will destroy a major chunk of a unique part of the Carp Ridge. We already lost half of Kanata Lakes to vinyl-clad houses, whose developers blasted the crap out of every feature that made the place desirable in the first place, so they could create byzantine tangles of suburban sprawl.

- Mt. Pakenham. This area had mega trail potential just a short drive from Ottawa. I used to ride cross country there. I and a few others saw potential for 50-100km of world-class mountain bike park. However, I was told by the Wilderness Tours owners that liability concerns have shut the area to riders, so now it sits unused in the summer.

- Calabogie Peaks. Same as Mt. Pakenham, except they did have a short period of officially sanctioned riding. Unfortunately, it's just that bit too far from Ottawa to make business sense, but why not allow volunteer trail makers do some work?

- Wilderness Tours. The Rafters to Rapids trail is nice, but the minimal trail development doesn't justify the $10 fee and the one-hour drive each way.

- Eastern Ontario trails system. Now this has potential, but it's a looooonnnnggg way from support even for motorized riders, and the trails aren't designed for mountain biking. Still, an impressive epic potential--if you don't mind 100km between food and water opportunities.

- Stoney Swamp. Nice riding in a pinch or for beginners, but flat and limited in potential compared to other areas. Nevertheless, much kudos to the City of Ottawa for letting us ride there without the kind of neurotic, self-serving restrictions that some other government organizations would impose.

That's pretty much it for local rides. Quebec has its ATV trails, Toronto area has the fantastic Uxbridge Forest and Hardwood Hills, and there's the forest in Peterborough. Lots of ATV trails throughout the province. But only three hours away is the Adirondacks with a huge trail network and no bugs. I'd prefer to spend my money at home--even better, to ride right from home.

The Ottawa area has the raw ingredients to become a truly world-class ride center on par with centres in Oregon, Washington State, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, France, the UK, British Columbia, Switzerland, Slovakia, and many other places. It would be a great way to bring tourist dollars into the region. Worried about liability? How come the snowmobilers and ATVers can figure it out, with thousands of km of their own trails in Ontario accessible for only $150 a year? They have a great model. Mountain bikers know how to build trails, we have the labour and equipment, and we have organizations like IMBA to provide expert guidance on access and technical issues.

We just need our local government agencies to open their minds and consider cycling an important part of urban and suburban planning. Without that support, it's hard to get private landowners to take it seriously either.

Update (Aug 25, 2014): This post certainly resonated with readers. I'm happy to report that in the years since posting, I've negotiated land access agreements with local landowners, roped in some volunteers, and built 8 km of flowy single track connecting Almonte to the Mill of Kintail. We are currently working on a new trail network in the area, provided we can get all the necessary approvals. It's been challenging to work with the various public agencies (much harder than working with private landowners!) but fortunately some of them have been highly supportive of our efforts.

Update (March 17, 2015): Almost five years after posting this rant, and it's encouraging to see some real progress in local trails: OMBA and the NCC are working together to increase summer and winter (fatbiking) access to Gatineau Park; OMBA volunteers have further refined the South March Highlands trail network and undertaken some new trail development projects in cooperation with the City of Ottawa; Mississippi Mills (which includes Almonte) has been tremendously supportive of local trail initiatives, and we are in the process of extending our Almonte Riverside Trail through the Mill of Kintail to Bennie's Corners, which will give a total of about 20km of local singletrack; local landowners are stepping up to engage in discussions about how to secure trail access across their property. While the region is still not the dense trail mecca of a Kingdom Trails, there are many positive developments that should result in more trails over the next few years, with many benefits to the communities that support these efforts.

Old Government Rd. to Lavant

Lanark County is unusual in Canadian history in that it was founded as a military project following the War of 1812. Back then, Britain and the US held their grudge match following the US War of Independence, with the upshot that anyone with British inclinations still hanging around the US after the dust settled was vigorously encouraged to leave. The area around Kingston, among others, received a large influx of Loyalists and demobilized soldiers looking to start a new life.

The Brits suspected the Americans would try to pull a fast one and invade Canada. Those suspicions proved accurate, so the Brits undertook a massive military program to bolster security in Upper Canada (today's Eastern Ontario region). The Rideau Canal was part of this plan--it provided a secure means of transporting goods and people between Kingston and Montreal via the Ottawa River. Lanark County was another part of the plan. The British didn't fully trust the allegiance of those Loyalists-come-lately down in Kingston. So they wanted a bulwark of unquestionably loyal subjects along the upper reaches of the Rideau Canal. Who better to serve this honour than the Scots?

Hence the Crown arranged for several waves of Lowland Scots to settle Lanark County. Townships were settled in horizontal bands starting in the south. East-west roads were therefore important routes to link these early communities. The Franktown Rd. from Richmond to Perth was a prime example (who woulda thunk that Franktown was an important centre back in the day?). Perth was the lower county seat for settlement activity and Lanark was optimistically envisioned as being the upper county seat. Tragically, actually. Lanark's plan of survey is about three times larger than Perth's. But Lanark's on unforgiving terrain so we all know how that plan worked out. Anyway, Highway 511 linking the two towns was intended to be an important north-south arterial route and in fact it was one of the earliest settlement roads in Ontario.

All this brings us to Old Government Road. The question is, which one? Pretty much every early road in Lanark County was a "Government Road" because the military drove settlement activity until about the 1820s.

My 1879 map of Lanark County shows an intriguing route from Hwy 511 to Lavant, north of the road that today runs through Poland. In Lavant today, there's a trail out of town named "Old Government Road" that aligns with the historic route. It's closed in summer (private access) but open to snowmobilers in winter. The E104 trail follows Old Government Road on its way to the ghost town of Lammermoor, but I suspect the historic route diverges to further north along Waddle Creek Road, which intersects the 511 at Brightside. It's really hard to be sure. Correlating old maps with new is more art than science, so I'll be out exploring more of this route to see what clues I can find.

An interesting side trip turned out to be the E104 where it crosses Hwy 511 to the east, just north of Hopetown. This track, as shown in the above photo, has signs of being an old road and not just a snowmobile trail. You can only get in about a kilometer or two because it descends into swamp. Maybe by late summer the swamp will be passable and can be linked up to Pretty Drive.

As a footnote, the E104 west of Lavant (up Lavant Mountain) was in fantastic shape last weekend. Mudholes that are usually axle deep--or deeper--were bone dry. There are still some gnarly riding sections but this is definitely the driest I've ever seen this trail. Highly recommended from Lavant to Bottle Lake Road, but you'll benefit from knobbies and good low-end speed control. I just switched my countersprocket to a 14-tooth which should help immensely in the technical sections. You're hard pressed to ride 20-40km/hr on these trails on anything as heavy as a KLR. That is, I won't because I tend to ride self-supported. Don't need a breakdown, thanks!

Contact me if you want a guided tour of any of these trails. I've ridden a lot of the dirt within 200 km west of Almonte. Knobbies are ideal, but you could manage with dualsport tires if you're patient and confident on loose surfaces. You'll also need a Gold Trail Pass, available at Carson's in Perth. Keep it legit and no one can complain if you accidentally go down a trail you're not supposed to.

Clayton floating bridge

Head west of Almonte on Wolf Grove Rd. until you hit the 12th concession on your right. It's about 16km out of town, past Union Hall Road with the tall antenna.

At the end of the 12th is the narrows between Taylor and Clayton Lakes. There used to be a famous floating bridge here. It's shown on my Lanark County map from 1879 and was in use until 1964 when it was destroyed by Hurricane Connie. Photos of the bridge from the 1950s show it was in pretty rough shape by the end. If you're paddling here, apparently you can still see the timbers on the lake bottom.

In the photo above you can just see a light spot on the far shore where the 12th continues. This stretch of water used to be a lot narrower until about the 1980s, when the dam in Clayton was improved and the lake levels raised considerably.

The bridge served as an important shortcut through the lakes and swamps that appear along a line drawn between Clayton and Middleville. If you lived north of that line, you'd want ready access to the Upper Perth Road, which you can see today just south of where the 12th intersects Wolf Grove Rd. The Upper Perth Road was the main drag from Blakeney to Perth via Bennies Corners (intersection near Mill of Kintail--another ghost town whose population left to settle Almonte), Clayton, Fergusons Falls, and Balderson. The ride's a piece of cake today, but accounts of this trail from the mid-1800s describe it as a muddy track winding through massive old-growth pine and hardwood forests.

Google Maps shows the town of Lloyd just before the floating bridge. It's not shown on my 1879 map and there's nothing to see today.

Boyd Caldwell Mine - Found!

Recently the weather was crappy and I wasn't feeling so hot myself, so I figured it was about time I gave the "Mayor of Wilbur", Bud Thomas a call to see if I could interview him. Bud grew up in Wilbur out on the K&P rail line, and his grampa worked in the Boyd Caldwell mine nearby back in the late 1800s. His mom cooked and cleaned at a local rooming house which has long since disappeared. She'd been down in the mine as a little girl. Bud is a rare treasure of oral history about a fascinating and all but lost part of early Canadian settlement. I spent three hours with Bud asking him about his experiences growing up in the Lavant Station area and recorded all of it. I plan to edit and submit the recordings to the local archives, and will post some clips here.

Bud's getting on in years and his health isn't so good, but he's full of energy and stories. We started our conversation in the kitchen of his old frame house, wood smoke in the air and whisky on the table. As you can tell from the audio clips I'll post, I'm no professional interviewer. I just wanted to get Bud talking. Before long we were out sitting in his white Lincoln Town Car (license plate: "KP LINE"), bouncing along the KP Line itself on a mission into the bush. I have to say, I'd never gone off-roading in a Lincoln before. It was touch-and-go several times as Bud patiently and expertly guided us down narrow trails, through beaver floods, over boulders, and down wet grassy slopes. But we made it to our destination: the site of Wilbur town, and the sites of the old Boyd Caldwell and Wilbur mines nearby.

I'd been in this area before, looking for evidence that there used to be a town of 250 people here. I thought I knew where I was looking. I was wrong. The signs were so subtle there's no way anyone would see them unless you know exactly where to look. Bud described how the area used to look 70 years ago. There were open meadows, roads, houses, train tracks, tall piles of mine tailings, boardwalks, and electric lights. Both Wilbur and nearby Lavant Station were important industrial towns in Eastern Ontario in 1884. Kids came from all over to attend the Wilbur school. Miners, lumbermen, farmers and their families came to town to drink, dance and socialize. Then the bottom fell out of the iron market in the late 1800s. It was no longer economical to run the Wilbur mines and ship the ore to Pittsburgh for smelting. The mines shut for good. Or did they?

Bud told me a story about how the mine owners tried to raise money to "reopen" the mines. They visited all the hardware supply stores in the area and bought up all the tar paper that locals used to roof their shacks. Then they burned the tar paper down in the mines to create thick clouds of smoke, like the coal-fired water pumps and air compressors made. Photos were taken to show how the mines were "operating" at full steam in an attempt to persuade people in New York to fork over more capital. It was all a scam of course, and the mines soon shut for good.

With no hope for a local economy, the town of Wilbur on its spur of the K&P quickly faded away. Locals pulled out the rails and any other metal they could find to sell for scrap. Beavers blocked a stream which flooded a marsh and submerged the old rail spur past town. The rail line to the mine head washed out as nearby ponds flooded. Shacks and houses decayed, bricks crumbled, and nature worked its inexorable fingers into anything manmade. By the 1930s, Bud said there were only foundations covered with old flooring left to see. Forestry operations soon ran over those remains.

Now, as you walk around the dense bush that has overgrown the town and mine sites, you need a keen eye to see signs of former industry. Bud hadn't been back here in 65 years and he was surprised by how much it had changed. But he has a keen memory, and he recalled where the trails were, where so-and-so's house used to be, where the caves were that a childhood friend of his used to crawl into, and where a huge henhouse used to stand. He showed me a square-cut cave in a rock where a local used to store his food. Now all that remains are vague impressions in the ground on suspiciously straight lines, and scraps of metal, brick and old railway ties.

I've been in touch with local landowners about getting access to more of the site and family archive so I can do more research. Unfortunately, there's been a longstanding dispute about who owns what in the area and access has been a bit delicate. While I'm no Pierre Berton, I'm passionate about studying our heritage and I hope that we can overcome these challenges together and better document this story for future generations.

Photo 1: Entrance to the "Lower Road" off Bottle Lake Rd., which leads directly to the centre of old Wilbur. Bud used to maintain this road. It's been impassible since the ice storm of 1998.

Photo 2: The cold storage cave in Wilbur town site where a man Bud knew used to keep his meat, vegetables and butter. From marks and other signs in the area, it looks like it might have originally been a test shaft for the mine.

Photo 3: Bud looking over the old rail spur beside the mine. This gully was blasted out of the rock and now a stream flows where rails used to be. Remnants of rail ties and the odd scrap of ballast give it away. Behind Bud and over the slope to his right is the main mine shaft. There are huge tailings pile nearby.

Photo 4. The mine head. I'm not sure yet if this is the Boyd Caldwell mine or the Wilbur Mine, but I think it's the latter. Bud showed me the other minehead on the hydro cut. It's not at all obvious. This one still had rails sticking out at an angle, and nearby you could see where the mine lift was located to pull ore out on the rails. This mine was about 70' deep. The pool is about 80' across. It was pouring rain and hard to get a good shot here.