SWITZERLAND JOHN SWITZER
Best moments? Going nowhere to
somewhere “Which way do we go?” is a back-
roader’s singular overriding dilemma. We are so fortunate to live where we do because there are so many great areas to visit and people to meet. Of course if we had a direction in mind, then it would be a mission and not a tour; so what do we do? In this case the traffic light outside
the Timmies was on a left turn cycle, so we headed south down the main drag of Stittsville. On the way we wandered into Richmond while playing “catch up and what’s new” when we should have been looking for an exit onto the back roads. I wear a Bounder jacket and am often
stopped to discuss the magazine (of course no one remembers my column) and I always ask for suggestions on likely tours. One evening, a tall gorgeous young
lady (I know her dad) said I should go to Perth for breakfast and then head to Balderson for cheese curds. Now young females are not exactly the audience that I
Time was now at a premium (as
am attempting to write for – but, hey − how can going to Perth ever be a bad idea? So when we hit Richmond Road, we headed in that direction. It was a beautiful morning. The road
was ours to meander down with no other traffic. We were aware of that special smell of fresh air mixed with the odours of gas, oil and a musty car as we listened to the rush of the air past our windows. We had the entire morning to go find some place or something new and maybe meet some new people. A road trip lets you snatch a little bit of
freedom in a seemingly unfree world. Road trips can also be educational,
because when we decided to stick to this road known to us as the Richmond Road, we discovered that it is identified on maps as County Road 10. We knew that this straight stretch running through pleasant farming country ran to Franktown, “The Lilac Capital of Canada”. When we happened upon Franktown,
we did a quick left, and then a right and we were on the Perth Road. Who knew that this route is again identified on the maps as Cty. Rd. 10? This stretch also leads past many century farms with their stone cottages and old log barns leading into Perth itself. Now keeping in mind what that
beautiful redhead said, we meandered north through Perth with its wonderful 19th century masonry architecture, to Highway 7, and Penny’s Place, located on the east side of town, just where you enter the city limits. Now ya gotta watch for Penny’s Place
because to me it looks like a nondescript, old fashioned road-stop restaurant, which I noticed is well frequented by the locals but appears to be undiscovered by our own back-roader’s community. The food was excellent, the service
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was as quick as can be imagined with only one very busy waitress, and the clientele was friendly (always a good sign). The locals know to help themselves to the coffee and the jams, marmalade and peanut butter, which are in the Tupperware containers at the end of the counter (nearest the kitchen door).One is welcomed to take the time to ponder over which individual jam container (sort of like the catsup containers you get in the fast food joints) will be your choice of the day. Perth is a special place, with its
historic buildings, river, parks and friendly people, so we headed back into town again. We enjoyed the downtown, which invited you to get out and experience “Heritage Perth – aged to perfection” (as the sign says). We also noted a couple of interesting looking B&Bs and agreed that here was a place to bring wives/partners for a relaxing weekend. We had ended up on the south
side of town, only to discover, to our amazement, that the Scotch Line is also called Cty. Rd. 10. So, for no other reason, off we went towards Westport, enjoying first the rolling countryside and then the rocky landscape. This landscape, with its barren rock faces, hidden glens and marches, still has farms scraping a living from this hilly terrain (ya gotta admire the resilience of these folks). I love the entrance to Westport,
with its pine-covered, rocky precipice abruptly dropping into the quaint town beside the lake. A test not only for one’s braking abilities but also a test of resolve not to loiter in this picturesque village with its
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great European bakery (Westport Bakery), the Tangled Garden Cafe and The Cove overlooking everything.
usual) so we resolved to only follow Cty Rd. 10, which then abruptly ended somewhere in Westport (or so it seemed). So off we went on Cty Rd. 42 heading south towards Newboro with its canal, Kilborn’s (a huge country store) and Norris’s Live Bait and Tackle Shop with its friendly people that makes it a great place to just stop and look around. Finally, and far too soon, Crosby
(and Highway 15) appeared before us with its inevitable rolling road through Portland to Smiths Falls and home again.
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Photos By BRUCE LORIMER
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