Travel Close to Home # 7: Quiet Beauty in Autumn

You might think I'd be slowing down as fall sets in, but not on your life.  Indeed, I feel the urge to go somewhere and do something with every sunny, half-way warm day that comes along now.

That definitely included yesterday, when the sun came slowly out through the course of the morning and the temperature rose to a pleasant but not hot 12°C (53°F).

Earlier in this series of posts, I paid a visit to the provincial park on Long Point, on the shore of Lake Erie  -- you can read about that one here:  Taking the Long View 

In that article, I made a passing reference to other locations on the Lake Erie shore which share common environmental characteristics with Long Point.  One of those is the Pointe aux Pins peninsula southwest of London, home to Rondeau Provincial Park.  This is actually the second-oldest provincial park in Ontario, dating back to 1894 -- the year after the establishment of Algonquin Provincial Park.  Rondeau is where I headed yesterday.

Like Long Point, Pointe aux Pins takes the form of a sandspit protecting a sizable wetland area and sheltering behind it an enclosed bay.  It slopes out from the shore of the lake at a very similar angle to Long Point, but in the opposite direction.  The resulting bay is roughly oval in shape, hence the name "Rondeau" from the French ronde eau ("round water").  

This aerial photo from the internet gives you an impression.  The camera is facing almost due south.

Unlike Long Point, Rondeau Provincial Park occupies almost all of the peninsula.  The picture shows clearly that most of Rondeau Bay (on the top right) is very shallow and sandy.  Much of the Bay is also contained within the park's jurisdiction.  Even the sizable cottage community visible along the shoreline of the peninsula lies inside the park boundaries, with all the cottages built on leased land.  Those cottages have been the source of much controversy, with the local government declaring them a heritage district while the province has more than once attempted to terminate the cottagers' leases.  I won't venture an opinion on this issue, except to say that both sides undoubtedly have persuasive arguments for their respective points of view.  

Again resembling Long Point, this peninsula is actually mostly wetland, even where it is forested, and it's the role of that wetland as a nesting and migrating area for birds that has made this park such an important natural resource.  

So, time for a visit!  If you want to get to Rondeau from either east or west, the easiest way is to follow the main freeway, Highway 401, and exit southbound at Kent Bridge Road.  This road, Chatham-Kent Municipal Road 15, will take you straight to the park.  I was intrigued to see on Google Maps that the trip should take only 2 minutes longer if I forsook Highway 401 and instead followed the parallel provincial Highway 4 and Elgin County Road 3 from London.  Definitely a smart move -- a much less stressful drive, and much more varied roadside scenery.  The trip down from London took about 70 minutes.

Also a smart move: waiting until this late in the fall to go.  The campgrounds are closed for the winter, and at 10:15 on a weekday morning I had the entire park nearly to myself.

Upon reaching the shore of the lake, the road crosses what is in effect a causeway -- although a very short one -- flanked on both sides by wetlands.  Here's the view on the east side, which shows the innermost end of Rondeau Bay, a tract of sandbanks and flooded grasslands.

A sharp right bend takes you onto the point proper, and after a short few hundred metres of driving you reach the gatehouse of the park.  The day use fee can be paid through an unmanned parking meter by the entry driveway, or you can detour into the park office to buy your permit.  I used the meter, and also picked up a map of the park from the help-yourself box next to the meter.

The roadways into and through the park are paved, but are narrow.  If you meet a truck coming the other way, such as a delivery vehicle (as I did), a certain amount of shoulder-kissing has to take place on both sides.  But the fall colours along these roadways are still truly lovely, even though the peak colours may have passed a week or two back.

I saw nothing all day quite as spectacular as this tree near the park entrance, apparently lagging a week or two behind others of the same species.

Across the road from the park's Visitors Centre, I parked at a small lot by the beach, two thirds of the way down the peninsula.  The east side of Pointe aux Pins is a sandspit, but (unlike Long Point) it has not built up into any sizable sand dunes.  This east-facing beach looked very quiet and placid on this fall morning when the wind was coming from the west. 

You just have to look a little way further back from the water to see that the last sizable gale from the east drove the waves a good deal higher.

Flooding in Rondeau is fairly common, especially in fall storms and during spring high water periods.  Across the point, on the west side, even the relatively narrow width of Rondeau Bay generates some choppy wave action.

Right by the beach you will see a boardwalk traversing the marram grass which anchors the low sand dunes in place.  This is the beginning of the Tulip Tree Trail, which is the one I chose for my daily hike.  Right at the outset, the boardwalk passed next to a couple of trees which hadn't yet finished putting on their annual colour show.

The boardwalk snakes around in a curve back towards the main road.  At the road, you cross on a marked crosswalk and enter the Carolinian forest which covers most of the park.  Soon after you cross the Harrison Trail, one of two trails running all the way to the tip of the peninsula.  This sign shows that this trail is optimized for cyclists, although I'd presume that wide tires would be a must despite the lack of any hills.

 The Tulip Tree Trail zigzags its way into the forest with frequent short boardwalk stretches to cross the many shallow pools in this wetland.  The forest here is plainly a favourable environment for the growth of large vines entwining around the trees.  Their twisting strands create fascinating, not to say bizarre, patterns of natural sculpture.

Even some of the trees get in on this game of twisting and curving.

Despite this being a relatively short trail (30 minutes or so for the entire loop), the variation in density of the forest growth is striking.  Very little of this woodland is actual old growth, as it has been logged over in the past.  All the same, some areas are very open and light while others become much denser and darker.  Like any good park whose focus is on the natural environment, Rondeau leaves the trees -- and vines -- to lie where they fall, allowing the natural cycle of decay and fertilization to run its course.

It's no surprise (to me at least) that, in a wetland region like this, some of the most striking views are found on the numerous boardwalks -- seen by looking down at the reflections rather than up at the sky.

Particularly eye-catching at this more open spot was the brilliant green of the algae-covered rear portion of the pond.

Now, what about those tulip trees?  I'm not enough of a botanist to pick them out at this time of year although I'm sure I walked past some of them.  I'll just have to come back to Rondeau next spring during their flowering season to enjoy that spectacle.

Travel Close to Home # 6: Rocks, Diamonds, and Autumn Colours

Last week, I was in Northern Ontario, and the colours there were a bit past the peak but still pretty spectacular.  

Here in the south, the oaks and maples are gloriously clothed in red and orange, and the others are coming along nicely as well, so between colours and sunshine, a day trip was definitely warranted.

As it happens, it was a friend and former student from my Elliot Lake days who tipped me off about the hidden gem which I visited last week.  It's plainly not hidden to the people of the immediate area, as the park had several dozen visitors even on a weekday morning.  I hope the locals will forgive me for spilling their lovely secret to the immediate world.  

Rock Glen Conservation Area is located on the northern edge of the village of Arkona, about halfway between London and Sarnia, and several kilometres to the north of the main highway between those two cities.  

 

Although it's not the quickest route if coming from the east, the simplest route to describe is this: driving westbound on Highway 402, exit at County Road 79, and follow that road north to and through Arkona.  Along the way, you'll turn east for a few kilometres, and then north again, but these turns are clearly signposted with Road 79 signs.

Just as you reach the northern edge of Arkona, you'll see a sign advertising the Rock Glen Family Resort, a trailer park campground. Turn right on Rock Glen Road.  If there was a sign advertising the conservation area, I couldn't see it!  This is a narrow road with several sharp bends, and pedestrians are not uncommon, so respect the 40 km/h speed limit.  When the trailer park appears on your right, look quickly to the left -- the entrance to the park is so well disguised that you could easily miss it and have to do a U-turn and come back (voice of experience).

You know you're in a southern Ontario country village when a couple of walkers on the road wave hello as you drive by.  You know even more that you're in a southern Ontario country village when you pull up to the gatehouse, and see a sign which says that the gatekeeper is mowing the grass in the back end of the park, but please put your fee into an envelope, mark your licence # and the time and number of people on the envelope, and push it through the mail slot in the gatehouse door!

Word to the wise: bring your own pen.  The fee is $4.00 per person so, with this unique honour payment system, having the exact change is a good idea.

The Rock Glen park is not large.  There are two parking lots, either side of the road, just inside the gatehouse.  I headed on up the hill towards the north forty, just to maximize my walking distance.  On the way up, I passed a third lot beside the local museum, but I carried on all the way up to the loop at the end of the road.  There was a tiny parking lot that would hold 3 cars, but when it's busy I'm sure people park on the grass all around the circle.  Here's a map to show the park's layout.

The first thing that caught my eye when I downloaded this map, before my visit, was the curious name of the stream flowing through the park: "Hobbs Mackenzie Drain."  It's not a new concept to me, as there are many waterways in this southwestern triangle of the province which are called "drains."  I'd always assumed that the name signified a purpose-built drainage ditch, but here's an example where it's applied to a natural waterway.

Every time I see the name, I always find myself harking back to Canadian humourist Don Harron and his iconic rural alter ego, Charlie Farquaharson.  Of course, I'm recalling Charlie's classic description of his wife: "Valeda Drain Farquharson -- she was a Drain on her father's side."

The valley of the Hobbs Mackenzie Drain and of the unnamed smaller stream flowing down from the north are both clothed in beautiful Carolinian forest, but much of the remainder of the park is open grassy lawns.  This means plenty of space for games, and for picnics, with a generous number of picnic tables scattered around here and there.

I walked downhill on the trail from the small car park across the playground to the edge of the forest, and then crossed the first bridge on my right.  Turning past the museum building (currently closed), I continued south to the edge of the deep ravine carved out by the Hobbs Mackenzie Drain.  Turning now to the right (west), I made my way along the edge, surrounded by brilliant fall colours.

 

 

The red tape in the background warns of the crumbling edge of the ravine, which is not a rock gorge but a steep slope of scree.  If you fell over that edge, I get the impression that a fair bit of the hillside might come loose and slither down on top of you.

 

There are already a few short staircases to hoof up and down, but the main events for stairs are yet to come.  Climbing up, I crossed the footbridge over the creek, which appears very placid and innocent in the autumn sunshine.

After enjoying the view of the falls from above, I walked along the short boardwalk and then down the 60-some steps to the foot of the falls.

Such a delicate, lacy cascade of water, sparkling like strands of diamonds in the sunshine -- somehow, the verb "tinkling" seems appropriate.  And yet, it's pretty obvious when you look around you at the river bed and the banks that the water flow can and does become a good deal more formidable after heavy rains, or during spring runoff.

Going any further on the river level would involve some tricky scrambling over a tumble of hefty boulders, so retreating back up the steps and continuing east along the rim of the ravine was more my speed.  This stretch of the path runs parallel to the Rock Glen Road, with the trailer park on the other side.  It's separated by a low wire fence that even my 66-year-old moving parts could probably hop over.  

Some people might wonder why anyone would even bother to pay, given the ease of just driving in at an unattended gatehouse or climbing over a fence.  I can't speak for the locals, but I certainly can envisage the amount of work and materials that went into building this park with all its groomed hiking paths, footbridges, staircases, roadways, picnic tables, shelters, and washrooms -- not to mention the museum and visitor's centre.  I've no doubt that the gate money is put to good use when everything in the park is kept in such a top-notch state of repair.

Eventually, you approach the eastern edge of the park, marked by the Ausable River, and it's time to climb down again.  The difference?  The top of the bank is higher now, the stream bed at the bottom is lower, and you are about to hoof it down a total of 157 steps.  This picture shows only the top half of the staircase, before the bend in the stairs at the half-way mark.

At one of the multiple stair landings, I paused and looked to the right (east).  That's the Ausable River, and across the river can be seen the remains of what was once a hydro dam.

At the bottom of the stairs, you cross the Hobbs Mackenzie Drain on a concrete causeway.  The multiple culverts through the concrete are more than adequate for the current flow of the stream, but I can easily picture the water filling up and flowing over the walkway on top during high water periods.

As I crossed the causeway, I turned to the left, looking back upstream, and took the first picture at the beginning of this blog post.  Although there are no benches here, there are a number of flattish boulders and tree trunks around the causeway which provide perches to sit down and enjoy the beauty of the spot.

And now for the good news.  The north bank isn't as high as the south bank!  I had to hike down 157 steps to get from the top of the south bank to the creek, but it took only 144 steps (I think) to climb back up the other side.  Hurray!

I then walked back along the rim of the valley to the point where I had joined the trail, and returned back north via the museum and the footbridge over the side stream (which was completely dry) and so back to my car.  The whole walk took about 45 minutes, but for obvious reasons gave me a better workout than a 45-minute walk on a level path would ever do!

I certainly plan to return to Rock Glen at another season of the year, perhaps in the spring, and experience it anew.  One of the most beautiful little hidden treasures I've found yet in Southern Ontario.