The provincial government has finally arranged for the long-overdue Northlander train line to open in 2026. That new route will go from Toronto's Union station all the way up north to Cochrane. In between, that route will include a few stops in the prized Muskoka region and its equally-attractive nearby neighbors in Cottage Country. In all, there are numerous stops. For non-drivers, or those who weren't inclined to looooooong bus rides or those who could not afford domestic flights, this is good news.

Just be aware that in the terminus Cochrane, the names of all tourist passengers will be placed in a draw. Then the chosen five names will be obliged by law to serve on the neighborhood Grizzly Fence Repair committee.

They are still searching for any sign of last year's committee.
I am done. the end

Kidding about the bears. Not kidding about that train.
I am done. the fun

We've lost a lot of good people to the Grizzly Fence Repair effort, zebec.

And there is, of course, the train from Winnipeg to Churchill, where they work on the Polar Bear Fence campaign. Full train going north, half empty train coming south.

Thanks for sharing this news, Zebec. Looks like the train is slated to follow the same route as VIA Rail’s the Canadian as far as Washago (?) and then splits off somewhere to head toward Huntsville, while VIA heads toward Parry Sound. Fun!

Those Torontonians who once made their living playing in bar bands have comprehensive experience of that northern part of Ontario province. Below is an excerpt from the second edition of my vanity-press musical memoir.
Two bits of clarification about what follows. It was 1976 and we had just arrived in Cochrane for a two-week residency gig at the Cochrane Hotel. It was a complete misbooking because that hotel's management had been expecting a quieter disco act, whereas our band Zebec (zee-bek) a very loud, long-haired rock trio. 'Gerson' was our superstar Brazilian bassist, a truly world-class musician. Jerry was our close friend who briefly acted as our temporary manager.


'This unshiny place turned out to be our northernmost gig ever. See any map of Ontario, and you will see! It was still winter. That season up in Cochrane could be particularly bleak, even by Canuck standards. Each slate-grey morn featured non-stop winds whistling through empty streets. Those gusts cut the faces of those foolish enough to not be wearing scarves and hats. A cold beyond words seeped into brains and bones. There were massive icicles, February’s teeth.It was comforting years later to see in their documentary that Rush had once played at the very same Cochrane hotel. They’d also stayed at that same place a year prior to us after their gig at the local high school. One of their members had kept the same souvenir postcard as we had from those $9 per night lodgings, as if anyone would want to recall the squalor, and the inebriated native people having fistfights. The second time that Rush had stayed there, their truck’s gas tank had been drained by bold thieves. As one travel guidebook put it, “The main reason for coming to Cochrane is to leave again.”

Stay longer?

Never.

It was another two-week gig, this time for $1400. It was the middle of winter and especially at night, the town had a gusty, ghost-town atmosphere. Some likened it to a frontier outpost in the Wild West. And it was another misbooking: the bar manager, Bernie, expected a far quieter, more commercial act than us to play at his hotel’s ‘Al-Lou-Ette’ room.

“One other thing I recall very well was that bomb!” Gerson later reminisced. He was referring to our flash pots. We used them at Cochrane on the first night. That resulted in some of the grizzled old geezers with gurgling lungs in the audience to exclaim, “DON FOGIT DO DAT DAMN HOOKAH THING AGIN FER SHUUUURE EH BOYZ!” The pots left a distinctive chemical smell in the air, a dry acrid odour born of zinc and sulphur.

Once again, there was a wide variety of memorable events generated by that gig. For example, we played the old Top 40 hit ‘Indian Giver’ to a largely native audience. We were naive 19 year-olds who meant nothing offensive by including that song. It was a complete coincidence and we didn’t begin to question our judgment until well into the first week.'

I am done. the end