Addresses in the 1950s were probably less formal in such a rural area. The farm is 5.2 km from the main road, 4.0 km of it is unpaved dirt/gravel, even today. I can't imagine what kind of road it might have been in the early 1950s when my parents came here. As I drive these backroads, I continue to marvel at the kind of trip it must have been for them, to come here to vacation and fish.
Dorothy's house is gone due to a recent fire. The structure was built of round logs over 100 years ago. I learned this from Don Taylor, a gentleman whose father, who lived to 102, was born there. Don gave me directions to the farm. People like Don Taylor have been incredibly generous with their memories and time in response to my curiosity.
I took a few pictures. But only a few, because I was savagely attacked by an air force of flies (black flies?) that quickly forced me back into my car.
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The Farm Today |
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Forest Across the Road |
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New House on the Property |
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Hass Road Today |
On the drive back, I had time to contemplate. What would my life have been like had I grown up here?
In some ways, Boulter is strikingly similar to Elizabeth, where I did grow up. The hills are everywhere, but not too high. My West Virginia hills were clustered more tightly though. The roads are narrow and curvy, many unlined, and all of them used to be unpaved. It is several miles to the nearest grocery store even today. Over time, the small, rural schools have been consolidated so that it is now miles to the nearest schools.
I have heard stories about people dropping by to visit with Dorothy and share a cup of coffee. That too is familiar to me. When you live isolated, visits are welcome, unscheduled, informal affairs. One major difference is proximity to water. I grew up next to a river that had a profound effect on my life. Despite all the lakes and rivers in and around Boulter, Hass Road itself is dry, although the Madawaska River appears to be a couple of miles away (perhaps a mile as the crow flies through a forest).
Those are the obvious similaries and differences. It is impossible to know how my life would have turned out otherwise. I can't imagine that being Canadian could have been a bad thing. But I also can't imagine how different the opportunities that shaped my life (e.g., education, mentors) and their outcomes would have been. Clearly, we are all the product of nature and nurture, and I can claim no difference in this regard. But I am sincerely grateful for the opportunities afforded by this trip to explore the nature portion of the equation.
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Foster Lake, a Peaceful Place to Contemplate My Roots |
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