Some rocks along the water near Bell Park in Sudbury, Ont. I would love to have brought this park home with me. But I only brought a weekender bag.
A family obligation took me to Sudbury, Ontario this weekend. It was a long drive. My working definition of ‘long drive’ is anything over 3 hours and 30 minutes and it took nearly 5 hours to get there so, like I said: long drive.
I’ve never travelled this far north before as I’m more of an East-West girl (the further east I move the happier I become), but once you get beyond the city of Barrie the scenery greatly improves.
Sorry, Barrie. You do nothing for me.
I like the huge, layered rock cuts that border the Trans-Canada highway, the A.J. Casson-style trees, and the many lakes – so many lakes. The lakes look happier and healthier the further north you go.
Sudbury is very rocky and cliff-y. I did not know that before we set out. And because I did not pay attention in geography class and clearly move through life in a state of ignorance, I had no idea that Sudbury was formed by a meteor that hit the area 1.8 billion years ago.
Lots of rocks here, I said to the hotel clerk when we arrived.
Everyone from Southwestern Ontario says that, he said.
It’s always painful to realize you are a cliché that says the same thing that countless others have said before you, but if I had known about the meteor before I had this conversation with the clerk, I would have handled it differently.
That was some meteor, I would have said to the clerk upon arriving at the hotel.
And he would have smiled and said, Wow, no one from Southwestern Ontario has ever said that.
The moral of the story: just a smattering of incomplete knowledge can invest small talk with a freshness that may reinforce the social fabric.
I had a strange feeling in Sudbury – or rather about Sudbury — and eventually I decided it was because the city reminded me of the town of Bedrock, the fictional city where the animated series, The Flintstones is set. I had to explain The Flintstones to my son who did not get the reference at all.
Here is a picture of a tiny brown Sudbury-based squirrel that provided a welcome moment of delight.
Here is a picture of the rock cuts along the Trans-Canada Highway.
The hotel where we stayed had a pool and a much-hyped waterslide, a gnarly-looking plastic blue tube that had clearly seen better days and that shot kids out and into the water with varying degrees of force. Some kids flew out of the tube and skipped across the water like stones, others sort of tumbled out of the opening, little human alka-seltzers that went plop, plop, fizz to the bottom.
My son is still recovering from a head injury so we just bobbed in the water and watched the kids take their turn on the slide, taking bets on who would come out the fastest and travel the furthest.
A line formed for the slide and the kids became restless. One kid decided to drag his leg into the pool and kick a massive stream of water at his friend. Other kids responded in kind and the deck was soon soaked with splashes.
My son and I watched as the lifeguard, a curly-haired teenager, approached the splashing kids.
They’re going to hear from him now, we thought.
But he didn’t come to caution them. He came to join in the fun. He started kicking huge streams of water at the kids too.
This was no ordinary Southwestern Ontario lifeguard.
Thus sanctioned by a pool official, the splashing intensified and the deck became slick with water. One kid slipped and rubbed his backside. The lifeguard kept splashing.
My son and I exchanged exclamatory glances.
Where did this lifeguard receive his training? Are you seeing what I’m seeing?
In the end we agreed that this was:
a) the most dangerous lifeguard we had ever encountered and needed to be spoken to seriously if not fired all together
And:
b) such a clear disregard for pool safety could be exhilarating.
This teenage lifeguard is now lore for us. My son and I will be talking about him for a very long time for he is now a Character in our minds.
Giving Sudbury landscape a 9/10 for meteor decor, TV nostalgia and disruptor lifeguards. But happy to be home. And despite the attractions of chaos I remain deeply committed to pool safety.