White River to Wawa
This is a vast and beautiful country! We have now cycled over 4000 km, more than half of our expected total. 1/4 of this distance has been in Ontario. It was a good day – the hills were smaller and the temperature cooler. We started off in rain, but the system moved ahead of us and we soon stripped off the Gore-Tex. The humidity meant lots of bugs, however, especially black flies that manage to find the gaps in our helmets!
The road took us south, inland from and parallel to the lake. The name Wawa comes from the Ojibwe word wewe meaning wild goose. A 9 m steel statue of the Wawa Goose stands near the junction of Highway 17 and 101.
We stayed at High Falls Motel and Cabins, a great find just south of Wawa. The owners gave us a lift to an excellent restaurant down the highway, where our meal included freshly-made pierogi and ended with pavlova and espresso.
We are on the traditional territory of the Michipicoten First Nation Their history is unfortunately not unusual. They had traditionally lived at the mouth of the Michipicoten River. This is not longer the case.
Now you aren’t far from my childhood summer stomping ground. My grandfather’s cottages and general store were in Missinabie, just east of Wawa. Google Northern Wilderness Cottages if you are interested. Missinabie was a booming village, sawmill, Renabie gold mine, and tourism. There was a Red Cross outpost clinic staffed with a full time nurse, train service twice daily. Now it is almost a ghost town with about 70 plus minus all year residents. The public school closed finally a few years ago
Funny, I don’t remember the black flies. As kids, all my brother and I cared about was fishing with our granddad, fabulous dinners around our grandmother,s dining room table, and those magic days when mom would load us into one of the cedar striped boats, with provisions for a few days and head down the main channel of Dog Lake to the Big Beach or the Little Beach cottages. Great memories of swimming all day, fishing before breakfast and the waves rolling into the bay when there was a big blow on the lake.
Happy cycling.
Anne, we remember your mother talking about Missinabie, but never really knew where it was. Thank you for sharing your memories.