April 2007

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Sports Car Factory

To my delight, I had a chance to snoop around Hallville’s Sports Car Factory this morning. The place is a veritable trove of automotive awesomeness. Now, we’re not talking about the car as a mode of transportation, but as an art-form. Of course, with old-school British cars’ (one of the Factory’s apparent specialities) reputation in mind, actual locomotion does at times take a rumble seat, if you know what I mean. But with form like this, who needs function?

The Factory’s museum-like second level contains a few works in progress, along with spare parts and other car stuff. Flick on the fluorescent lights, and auto relics appear in the dusty gloom. The place seems to be caught somewhere in between order and chaos, depending on where you look.

Old Cars

The cars are lifted up to the second level through here:

Hoist Mechanism

Now, this looks like a couple of body panels from an old E-Type. The back end rests a few feet away.

E-Type Body Panels

Back outside, British motoring’s finest are well represented: Triumph, Austin-Healey, and MG. Not to mention the Jags scattered about, albeit in various stages of (dis)repair, along with a couple of Land Rovers that look like they had at one point or another been abandoned along the banks of the Congo River.

Sprite

Anyhow, they’ve got some right fine specimens lined up along County Road 43 as well; it was nice to see a couple Sprites, as well as a handsome TR6. It’s hard to drive by the lot without pulling over and kicking a tire or two. At risk of heartbreak, of course, when you inevitably realize that gem you noticed last visit has mysteriously disappeared, and is no doubt gracing the garage of some lucky fellow (or lady).

Austin-Healey

You know the saying, “they don’t make ‘em like they used to;” but when presented with these beauties, you can’t help but wonder why?

Canoe

So, last Saturday we went struck out on Kemptville Creek, more or less in the name of (citizen) science. Here’s a map from Google Earth of the stretch we paddled:

Kemptville Creek

We basically travelled from the bottom-left corner to the top- right one.

Creek DepthWe started off (as we often do) at the bridge in Bishops Mills, and went downstream as far as the Highway 20 bridge. Water levels seemed to be high lately, but the gauge at the latter bridge put the level at “1″ (units unclear). Anyhow, the creek was high enough that we didn’t have to worry about bumping into any underwater obstructions while diligently scanning the skies and shores for species. We had a HOBO trailing in the water and another in the boat for the duration of the trip, and while the water temperature seemed to be steady around 16C over the course of our paddle (roughly three hours), while the air temperature dropped about by about 5C (25C -> 20C). It was a beautiful day for a paddle… funny how the first jaunt of the year coincides with first mosquito bites of the year. Can’t have one without the other, I guess.

But enough of that for now; let’s get to the BioBlitz species count. By the by, it looks like there’s been quite a bit of interest in the project — there are almost 50 participants signed up so far. For fun, I’ve included philatelic representations of species in my account where appropriate! Plenty of photos too, for the kids.

To begin, we noticed great numbers (~12) of the Common Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula). Mallard Ducks (Anas platyrhynchos) were also out en force, and we probably observed half a dozen mating pairs. The odd Red-Winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) crossed our path as well.

Red-winged Blackbird

As novices, we were bound to end up playing one of the best games you can play in a canoe: “Muskrat or Beaver?” The Muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus) we saw were only confidently identified as such after we came across what was obviously a Beaver (Castor canadensis) — which is noticeably larger, and has a distinctive face. At a distance, though, it can be hard to tell which is which.

Five-cent Beaver

We also passed by an unfortunate (and by that I mean “dead”) Racoon (Procyon lotor) who was peaceably floating along. Speaking of floating, there were Leopard Frogs (Rana pipiens) all over the place,

Leopard Frog

… along with an Egg Clump of unknown origin.

Frog Eggs

Fred headed out later on to see if he could get an idea where the Leopard Frog chorus was located, and while by the bridge where we started out he noticed a Northern Water Snake (Nerodia sipedon). Hmm.

Along the way, we collected some shells (or should I say “freshwater invertebrates?”) which have since been identified as Bulimnea megasoma and Helisoma trivolvus. Also some Gyraulus, but I don’t know exactly which species we’re looking at here.

Not only did we see stuff, we also heard stuff. We paddled through some rather vocal frog choruses, both Leopard Frogs and Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer). At one point the calls surrounding the canoe were almost deafening — seems like it’s going to be a good year for the frogs.We also heard what we believe to be a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis). We did not hear the well known “kee-eer” descending scream, but rather an unusual “upslurred” one. You can listen to the calls here. Also audible was some woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus?) activity. We didn’t actually see the bird, so its species remains unknown.

Woodpecker Stamp

(That’s a Pileated Woodpecker on the far-right!)

As far as plants go, I don’t have much to identify here. We came across many different kinds of moss and lichen, though. I have little hope of identifying them, however. Nevertheless, I’ll pass on a few photos… there’s a photogenic old wooden bridge that is host to a multitude of species.

Lichens

More Lichens and Moss

Now, one of my favourite bits of this stretch of creek is a swampy area filled with Red Maple (Acer rubrum, also known as Swamp Maple, appropriately enough). The water level was high enough that we could paddle among the trees, which afforded some neat views. It always reminds me of that awesome arboreal level in Myst

Moss and Roots

You can see that the Red Maples are just coming into their glory at this time of year:

Red Maple

On a side note, I might point out that the Red Maple was featured on a 1994 Canada Day issue:

Red Maple Stamp

Of course, any good trip down the creek wouldn’t be complete without the requisitite curiosities. This time we found a sorely deflated basket ball, a hubcap from an old cadillac, and an old election sign (“Vote for Sandra Lawn!”)… well, if it’s for PC it probably belongs on the bottom of a creek anyhow.

Sandra Lawn

Well, according to the OED, a “charivari” (or “shivaree”) is “a serenade of ‘rough music’, with kettles, pans, tea-trays, and the like, used in France, in mockery and derision of incongruous or unpopular marriages, and of unpopular persons generally; hence a confused, discordant medley of sounds; a babel of noise.”

The Shivery House

There are some interesting ruins down along Bolton Road that’ve caught my eye once or twice, and it turns out that they have a bit of history that goes along with ‘em… A ways back, the story goes, the fellow who lived here got himself married. Simple enough, right? Well, he figured that he liked it that way, and decided to just keep quiet about things — no ceremony, no party, no fuss. Well, somehow the folks in the neighbourhood got wind of it, and they thought they’d stop by sometime after dark when the new bride & groom would be getting settled down for the night. You know, kick up a fuss of their own.

Deer Bones

I guess things got started off well enough, with some of the fellows hooting and hollering, banging on a few pots and pans, and all of that; the only thing was that the man of the house, after hearing the racket going on outside, decided to come to the door with a shotgun and fire it off into the dark. As you’re probably guessing, somebody got killed. Next day? Well, the unlucky groom got shipped off to jail.

Not sure what happened after that, really. To be honest, I don’t know much about the whole ordeal except for a little bit of hearsay. But there isn’t much left of the old homestead now. Aside from the one corner- section of the exterior wall, there’s a bit of the foundation intact, along with a few beams and sections of the garden wall out back. You know, it’s a nice spot — quiet, nestled in the bend of a small creek.

On a side note: we came across some deer bones nearby, which looked as if they’d been picked clean long ago. Only half the carcass though. Hunters’ work, I suppose.

[N 44o 54' 32.6", W 75o 44' 12.9"]

Roger Crab

This past week I finally got a certain something off my chest — or off my desk — that’s been in the works for the last little while: my MA thesis proposal.

The proposed work will centre on the writings of a neat old fellow named Roger Crab (the original “Mad Hatter”). A hermit and vegetarian, Crab wrote four pamphlets in the mid-1600s. For a few years there, he lived on a small piece of land near Uxbridge in a cabin that he built for himself, eating only roots and herbs that he grew for himself, and adhering to a set of eremitic beliefs that that he developed for himself. Anyhow, the Hermitary has a good writeup on Crab that you can check out if you’re interested.

But back to the thesis proposal. In the wake of its submission (it’s been, oh, a day now), I’ve been fighting the urge to go and retrieve the poor document and tinker with it a little more. You know, add a section or two, fiddle with the chapter titles, that sort of thing. Consider it a form of postpartum anxiety, unique to grad students. Of course, if you didn’t put your foot (or pen) down, you could probably just work on your proposal indefinitely, or at least until you had just about finished researching and writing your actual thesis — by which point I am sure that you could prepare a perfectly wonderful proposal for it. Anyhow, we’ll have to see what the Committee has to say about things… it all sounds vaguely inquisitorial to me.

Now, I’ve found that “the proposal” can be a tricky genre. It’s also probably one of the more unethical ones that I’ve worked in for a while, almost on par with writing ministerial correspondence for the federal government… I guess the key is to be apodictic. Or, as Basil King said, “be brave and mighty powers will come to your aid!” A good way to start this is by removing the word “perhaps” from your vocabulary for a while. Also, you have to come to grips with the fact that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to read everything that you need to; you can still go ahead and list it all in your bibliography, however.

And remember: “if you can’t think logically, at least think chronologically.”

The other day I came across a unique device available from Lee Valley that really comes in handy at this time of year: the Rimroller.

the Rimroller

Its purpose is simple — to help good Tim Hortonians to quickly and efficiently roll up their rims! And at $1.95, the rig will only set you back about as much as you’d pay for a decent-sized cup of coffee. Of course, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still most likely to see “PLEASE TRY AGAIN” under there…