Dave's Travel Adventures: Toronto, Ontario (Canada)

A TRIP ON A WHIM

The first semester of my return to college completed, and after a nine-year break I done pretty good. Now I had time to go places and do things again until classes resumed in the fall. I took another drive out to Rochester to have a long weekend with Brian, where we’d do our normal stuff of eating out, watching movies, and playing cards. While I was there, we decided to make a day trip to Toronto, simply because we’d never been there before.

What I know of this city was from watching Forever Knight, so it seemed like a nice place to go. I’d been to other Canadian cities before, but not this one, so it’s be an adventure into new territory. Now let’s get one point of geography clear first, there is no direct way to Toronto from Rochester. Even we could drive “as the crow flies” and go straight there (ignoring the fact we’d be going across Lake Ontario), it would still be a couple hours to get there. Once we passed through customs at Buffalo, it was still about ninety minutes to swing around the western edge of the lake.

To me, driving in Canada is like driving in a different state. Everything is familiar. Sure the road signs have different silhouettes, and the license plates have a different color, but that’s exactly what I’d see when crossing into Vermont, Pennsylvania, or wherever. The big thing to keep in mind is the speed limits are in kilometers, and the “short form” developed by Bob & Doug McKenzie (which is to double it, and add forty, eh) doesn’t really work. Most modern cars have both miles and kilometers on the speedometer, so you just be have to be sure you’re paying attention to the right one.

It was Sunday when we decided to make this drive, which shows the plan wasn’t well thought-out on our part, as most of the museums in the city were closed. We put the car in the parking garage, and set out to wander a section of the area in the vicinity where the CN Tower was located, as that was the most easily recognized landmark. The CN Tower rises much, much higher than the city skyline. From driving around, most of the buildings were three to four stories, except those clustered in the Financial District (which were a dozen or so); and the CN Tower is double or triple that. Since it was the highest point in the area, it seemed to be the best bet to head towards.

While walking the streets, we happened to stumble upon the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation building. Keeping in mind that I worked in the television industry, it was mildly amusing to have a shot taken outside CBC. I have nothing personal against them, it was just a fun picture.

Brian and I stopped at a sidewalk café for lunch. Next to each of the patio tables were tall, columns with squat, wide, cone-shaped top. We didn’t see any light bulbs, and we were outside, so not really sure what these were for. They were too frequent to be simply decorative. Our waiter showed us these were actually space heater designed to give each individual table some warmth. Being the middle of May, there was still a little chill in the air, so we said yes when the waiter asked us if we wanted it on. Within only a few scant minutes, we felt the heath radiate down on us. I had to take my fleece pull-over off (and thus be back down to my t-shirt) just so I didn’t get too hot. Those heaters were pretty stylin.’

CN TOWER

After we ate, and had travelled a few more blocks, we’d made it to the base of the CN Tower (also known as the “Canadian National Tower”). Completed in 1976 to be a communications tower, it rises over 1,800 feet into the sky, and is the tallest free-standing structure in the Western Hemisphere. While an icon for Toronto, it’s also a symbol for Canada. Since it was open to visitors today, we paid to go up to the top. We were herded into a small dark confined space, which they told us was the elevator. There was a quick sensation of motion as we shot upwards. Considering the height, I wasn’t surprised the ride would be quick. What I didn’t expect was a few second into the ride, the city skyline opened up to us.

Because the base of the structure is much wider than the tower, when we went inside to get the elevator, we just assumed it ascended up the interior. The fact we were in a little glass bubble shooting up the exterior was a fabulous sensation. Within moments, the nearby buildings had dropped away, and everything reduced in size. Already the view was spectacular, and I hoped there would be place at the top where I could get some panoramic sweeps.

The first stop for the elevator was the lowest level of the viewing area, known as the Space Deck. The upper level had a restaurant (“Top of Toronto”), and other places you could get a near three-sixty view of Toronto. I took a couple of shots of the area to juxtapose the short buildings which make up the largest sections of the city with the cluster of taller buildings on the lake shore (which is the Financial District). I’m not a big fan of urban sprawl, but I much rather have the city spread outwards as much as it can, as opposed to reaching upwards.

We found something rather interesting on the lower level (besides the gift shop); something which appealed to my twisted sense of fun. Near the outer edge of the Space Deck area, there was a large glass plate set into the floor; it had the dimensions of about six feet by six feet, and was about three or four thick. Looking over the edge, the glass gave a straight down view of the plaza far, far below (so none of the Tower’ base was in the way). There was a video camera and TV monitor set above the plate, and aligned so none of the edges were within the frame of the shot. People were standing on the plate and looking upwards, as it gave the illusion of them floating in air.

There wasn’t anything to stop you from walking out on the plate, but as people had already been standing there waiting to step out on it, I patiently waited my turn. It gave me the opportunity to observe how most would take their first steps on to the glass very lightly, like stepping on ice and testing to make sure it would hold your weight. I looked around and saw there was no sign that said anything like “maximum weight,” and there was no guard and/or attendant making sure that a limited number were on at any one time. That was a clear indication (coupled with the design of it), that this glass plate had been engineered to hold a huge amount of weight at any time; probably far more than the couple dozen people that could squeeze within the boundaries of the plate. If there was the slightest chance of having “too much weight” on it, then someone would’ve been standing there to make sure of that.

My twisted humor knew exactly what to do. When it was my turn, I stepped to edge just before the glass began, and made sure there was enough room to do what I planned. With a quick bend of the knees to get some power behind it, I did a forceful leap out on to the plate. I then jumped up and down hard for a few moments, completely secure this thing would hold me. The other visitors around were obviously less-secure, as they went white when they saw what I did. Most people quickly cleared off the glass. Across the way, towards the gift shop area, I could see some of the Tower employees getting a good laugh about this. When you work at a tourist place, it’s improper to frighten the guests, but it’s funny when another visitor does it.

With the glass cleared, I was able to get a picture to show how far down it was (without any feet in the way). This was an awesome view, and it was worth it. Other people then started to venture back on, as they realized this was safe for them to stand upon. A few toddlers did a couple similar jumps like I did, before quickly being scolded by their mothers.

After Brian and I had seen all we wanted to up here, we took the elevator down. We could feel the G-forces building on the descent down, but there was a nice smooth stop (not jarring in any way) at the end. It was the early afternoon now, and unfortunately there wasn’t anything we knew off that was still open. Without having stopped at the Visitor Center for appropriate information, they only other way to see what was open would be to drive around the city going from place to place. That’s not practical any time, and we were many blocks away from the truck to start with.

THE RICKSHAW RIDE

I don’t have any problem walking long distances, but it was more than what Brian was used to. We looked at getting a cab to take us back to the parking garage, but we got an offer to do something different. In an effort to be environmentally-conscious, Toronto has (during the warm weather only, of course) a fleet of young people pulling rickshaws. These were college kids doing this, not immigrants, by the way. A rickshaw is a two-wheeled cart (essentially a chair on wheels) which is pulled by a person running (although some are also done by a bicycle). These are common in Asian countries where the population density is high.

We told our “driver” where we wanted to go, and he said that would be $20. He didn’t specify if that was in American dollars, or in the less-valued Canadian currency. I figured if it was in Canadian money, I’d just had him an Andrew Jackson and let the remainder be tip. This would work better if we didn’t say we were Americans, then we’d be certainly charged this in our own currency. I want to note the price per ride, or “$X per Y distance unit travelled,” wasn’t written on the side of the rickshaw like it is on most city taxis.

Because it’s considered a vehicle, the rickshaw is used on the streets, not the sidewalks, so we were right in the thick of traffic. Our driver got a short break when we had to wait at a light to cross an intersection, but the rest of the time he kept a high pace stride the entire time. Doing something like this would certainly build up your endurance.

The ride lasted about fifteen minutes, which was far quicker than even I could’ve walked the distance we went. Once we pulled up to the parking garage, that’s when things got interesting. This had been a fun experience, and I’d gotten the money ready before the trip finished (including a couple extra bucks for tip). I started to exit first, and handed the driver the fare. He then said that was $20 each. Brian and I looked at each other in surprise. The novelty of this was worth $20 for the ride, bit it had been said beforehand it was for every passenger, then we wouldn’t have done it. Brian still needed to pay the parking garage for his truck, so I dug out another Jackson out of my wallet. There was a dirty stare from the driver, followed by a moment of an uncomfortable silence, and then the rickshaw departed.

Brian and I talked about this, as he was digging out the last of his pocket cash to pay the parking garage. We confirmed with each other that the driver had not said $20 each. We’d been taken for a ride, in more ways than one. Sure we could’ve not paid the other $20, it’s not like he could’ve reasonably brought us back to where we started. What we didn’t know what options the driver had available for if someone stiffed him on a fare. A set up like this in America would be connected with the Teamsters, one of the best well-known mob-connected unions there is. Our driver knew the area, and we didn’t. He had the high ground in this fight, so it was easier (all things considered) to pay him and be done with it.

We left the Toronto, and heading back towards the U.S. Border (as we’d cross near Buffalo). Did we have a good time? Yes. Was there more we could’ve seen? Sure, if we’d thought this trip out a little better. Yeah, there was one annoyance experience, but we didn’t let it sour the entire day. In the end, all things considered, we got to go someplace we hadn’t been before and see things we hadn’t seen before. Toronto was a nice city, and one that I wanted to return to, so I could give it the proper exploration that it deserved.

APPALACHIAN TRAIL (CARLISLE, PA) – MAY 2001

After spending time with Brian in Rochester, instead of driving back to Glens Falls, I took a southerly route towards Harrisburg, PA. The second part of my vacation was going to spent hanging with Cara, and doing another hike on the Appalachian Trail. Getting off the main highway to pick up the side streets which would take me to Mechanicsburg, I noted how familiar the area was (even though I’d only been in this section one other time). I tend to drive my memory (“This looks familiar, so I’ll turn here”), with knowing the street names for a general idea of where I was.

Cara wasn’t living at the Trail barracks any more, as she had an apartment in nearby Carlisle. She was still close enough we were able to access the trail-head near Boiling Springs. She let me know the name of the Boiling Springs high school sports team was the “Bubblers.” I shuddered to think what their mascot was. We were able to take a nice day hike, and as usual the views were worth it.

Part of the reason for coming down was to partake in another round of the “Red Dwarf and Curry Party.” An event is exactly what it says it is: We fixed up a couple different types of curry dishes, and watched a couple episodes of the British series Red Dwarf.

The time I was able to spend down here this time was limited, so we didn’t spend a lot of time wandering around the city. We did go up and down the main streets, where there were a lot of local cemeteries, which were of local interest, but not anything that had my attention. I’d come down here to see my friend, and enjoy a great hike.

RETURN TO CAMP (NEAR CAPE VINCENT, NY) – JULY 2001

I got a little bit more nature views in July when I was able to get back to the Cape Vincent area, to spend a long weekend at the Camp. The rest of the family had been continuing to go here on a regular basis, but various circumstances had kept me from getting up there for nearly a decade. (While much of that time was due to having to work when the family was planning on being here, there were other instances of people I was with having no desire to make the trip.) My last visit to the Camp was back in the Fall 1989 semester, when we hauled ass out of Plattsburgh to get here before Hurricane Hugo let loose on the area.

Now that thing in my life had changed, I looked forward to spending a lot of time in this area again. Most of the weekend was spent reacquainting myself with these places of my youth, as well as being introduced to areas which had been discovered by the family in my absence. One of the nice places was called Mud Bay, which was a shallow, narrow stretch which made a natural “wave pool” with the currents that rolled off Lake Ontario.

As the Camp was a few miles off the main drag, it was a short drive to Porky’s Corner Store to get the morning paper. Usually whoever went for it would get a box of donuts too. It was a nice Saturday morning, only an hour after dawn when I let Mum know I was heading out for the paper, and would be back in a bit. About a half-hour later Dad grabbed his keys and mentioned he was heading to get the paper. Mum told him I’d already gone for it, and Dad noted my car was still here. Mum’s response was that I probably walked for it. I did, as it was a nice stroll along a country road with a view of the water.

The only pictures I took of the area were right off the front of the Camp, which was on Chaumont Bay (also off Lake Ontario). I didn’t need to take anything else, because this was a second home to me (for all intents and purposes). I spent the weekend relaxing and reconnecting with the family, which I enjoyed very much. I looked forward to spending more time here in the future.