There has been of late the germination of considerable money spent by the government (I’m guessing mostly provincial though possibly county and municipal as well) upon the improvement of local country roads – or, what may be more aptly identified as back roads, roads that are away from the regular passage of traffic, roads between the towns and villages of the county as opposed to highways or “ring roads” which by design sweep around the rural inhabitants. I am also speculating that the penchant of the residents of Lanark County to vote Conservative was a feature of this discernible generosity. I stagger to contemplate the total expenditure to accomplish these Olympic feats. It was this burgeoning enterprise (and related expropriation) years ago which forced the closure and removal of the Antrim Truck Stop nearby the Village of Antrim. The well known truck stop was on the 2-lane country road known as Hwy#17 now replaced for the majority of traffic by the parallel 4-lane highway appropriately called the 417.

Both the 17 and the 417 continue in full force, the latter obviously for those in more of a hurry – which I suppose is all the explanation required.  Meanwhile – as I was about to say – the truck stop relocated to Arnprior where (pointedly without changing its name) it now has what appears to my unlearned mind to be a massive REAL truck stop in addition to a popular diner and bakery. Editorial Note: The carrot cake is nonpareil, sugary icing as thick as your fist and a moist, chewy centre. For the truckers – in addition to what I speculate is easily accessible garage assistance if required – there is the complementary convenience of designated washrooms and showers.

The map of upper Lanark County (where we live) is marked by numerous country roads (some with glamorous names like Wolf Grove Road), many leading to delightful sounding places such as Elphin, Snow Road Station, Glen Tay, Playfairville, Scotch Line and Burke Settlement. The influence of the early Empire Loyalists is unmistakable particularly as one approaches the county seat Perth (Newboro, Lombardy, Portland, Crosby, Elgin, Westport and Chaffey’s Lock).

There was a time – following a major heart operation years ago – that I sought to overcome the lingering sequel of narcotic drugs which sustained me throughout the 8-hour surgery by driving months afterwards about the local country roads each morning before going to my office. It was a psychological mandate to clear my mind. Driving and country roads have had a meaningful impact and sway upon my life for decades, apparently both for medical relief and simple pastime.

The dynamic of driving changes daily as my decomposition continues. If one wonders – “How did I get here?” – there is no answer other than time. For the moment driving is the nutrition of my daily exploits, the foundation of my limited diversity and discovery, the source of my creative capital (figurative, intellectual, literary and artisitic). The mere mechanical development of the automobile to one without exhaust pipes is sufficient to distract me. But over a prolonged drive along the country roads (especially now as they are so beautifully polished and paved) I become absorbed in the tempo of the machine, the sense of sustained alignment, responsiveness and power. Mine is not an adventurous driving spirit; indeed I prefer to maintain the model of a typical grey haired old fogey (though one who follows the speed limit without annoying reduction). The precision of steel and electronic hardware assist me to regain a measured contemplation of life – apart from one devoted to the golden crowns of late summer cornstalks carpeting the expansive farmlands. Or the meandering river…