St. Clair to Wallaceburg

(I’m still trying to get caught up; we rode from St. Clair to Wallaceburg on (Wednesday)

The beauty of the St. Clair river makes the area an inviting place to live – at least in the summertime. A local woman told me that the US side has been dredged for shipping, which means one gets a good view of the 1000′ ships that ply the waters (or at least you can during the day!)

There is also a long sandbar that kids can stand on out in the middle of the river. But as much as she enjoyed living there, Pam cautioned that “you have to detoxify yourself” because of the power plants on either side of the river:

At the last minute, while on the ferry to Canada, I hurriedly bought the data package I’m using to post this. Our crossing was quick but gave us the opportunity to marvel over the blueness of the water.

I rode down the Canadian side of the river before cutting over to Wallaceburg and decided the locals had a pretty sweet set-up:

Wallaceburg is a pretty small town, but I met some interesting people. Karen runs a do-it-yourself winemaking shop where customers buy concentrated grape juice varietally sourced from around the world:

and then add yeast and water and let the magic of fermentation begin:

Afterward, you can even age the wine in wee oak barrels:

Not sure this has much potential in the US, but Karen says it’s quite popular in Canada because the cost of wine is so high.

Karen recommended a place called Dimitar’s for dinner, and I went over to check it out, which is how I met Randy, who is the luckiest unlucky person I’ve ever met. After a tour in the Canadian military in Afghanistan and Iraq, he did a stint in the French Foreign Legion in some of the troubled spots in Africa. Upon returning to Canada, he decided he needed to spend some time away from people so he did a solo backpack across the country stopping to work the occasional odd job (bar bouncer was a standby) along the way.
After his trek, Randy was working an industrial job in Windsor when a forklift driver lost his load sending a crushing three tons down the right side of Randy’s body. He was in a coma for nine months, the last two of which were medically induced. He has a steel plate in his skull, 8 screws holding the right side of his face together, 15 screws holding his right arm on and an artificial hip and femur. He is quite lucky to be alive and says the only effects are some nerve damage in his hand.

As general manager, he runs a nice place at Dimitar’s, and Roger and I ate well together for a final time: