How Far Do You Think To The Next Gas Station?

Day 9 : 29th September 1996

“How far do you think to the next gas station?”

Sunday morning was a complete contrast with Saturday. The sun was up early, the sky clear and it appeared that we had the ideal day for some phots. Car loaded we headed North, the intention being to phot the tour train then aim for Searchmont. There were two reasons for choosing this as a destination. 1. The following local stopped there. 2. It’s where the road runs out. How hard could it be to get there?

Things started well, the sedate pace of the tour train allowed us to leap frog it a number of times and get some cracking phots in the early morning sun. It also provided some contact with the locals as we were investigated by some inquisitive chipmunks at one of the locations. With a few shots in the bag we headed off, leaving the train behind, intent on photing it crossing the river bridge into Searchmont.


Five to the Canyon. The tour train heads North over Kensington Trestle.


The tour train heads North to the wilderness. We head North to get lost.

At this point a decision for our navigator loomed as what we thought to be the only road in this part of Canada suddenly became two. Smurf studied the still inadequate map.

“left or right?”

“Err”

“Left or right?”

“Right”

“Sure?”

“Yes!”

“Right?”

“RIGHT”

We swung right and headed off at speed, there being no sign of the railway at this point. To our alarm the tarmac quickly turned to a loose, rock strewn track. Stones and debris bounced off the bottom of the car.

“bang, clatter”

“are you sure this is right”

“thump, scrape”

“yes”

“bump, rattle”

“scenery’s nice”

“Bang, thud”

“this doesn’t look right”

“chink, donk”

“Aren’t the trees colourful?”

“Crash, rattle”

“where are we going?”

This continued for some while until we happened upon a picturesque lake hemmed in by mountains. Impressive yes, but not shown anywhere near the road we were supposedly on! A wooden sign helpfully declared “Trout Lake”, quick scruiteneer of the map, surprise, surprise! BUGGER again! 365 point turn, “bang, rattle, thump, clatter etc”


A picture speaks a thousand words. This say two “WRONG WAY!”

Having re-gained the correct road we were soon in Searchmont, the tour train long gone. Not that it really mattered, the clouds had started to spoil any phots and we were in plenty of time for the local.

Since the WC takeover, Searchmont had been de-staffed and the agents office closed. Searchmont itself (all six houses and a school) also appeared to be shut. We amused ourselves scrawling Driver and Navigator names into the thick layer of dust that now clung to the cars front wings and wondered why we hadn’t recorded our Trout Lake-Searchmont stage time.


1753 arrives at Searchmont with the North bound local.

A distant horn brought us to some semblance of sense and pretty soon the local arrived lead by 1753. So! only one to go then! A brief parley with the conductor about how the advertised fare structure worked ( in the railways favour apparently) and we settled back to enjoy a repeat performance to Aguwa Canyon.

Our arrival at the Canyon saw the tour train depart back South, taking with it, humanity. Once the local had left a strange realisation struck. Apart from a few rail workers in the bunk house at the far North end of the canyon, we were the only ones there!


Bigger than it looks. Bridal Veil Falls.
 The twigs at the top are full grown trees.

The peace was wonderful and what’s more it wasn’t misty, it wasn’t raining. In fact, it was glorious. We meandered round the park a while and wandered down to the far South end to take in the massive Bridal Vale Falls before another distant horn brought us back to reality.


God where did he come from? The passenger and 1752 at Aguwa Canyon.

Shortly after the South bound local appeared (along with another passenger. GOD where did he come from?) with 1752 at the front. Well, that was the set, 7 out of 7!

The train was busy with all three coaches pretty packed, we soon discovered however that the conductor had no objection to us sitting in the baggage car. This was marvellous, it’s big sliding doors wide open to the scenery, the noise of 1752 drifting back, superb. It was added to by the sight of two old boys, sat on the only chairs in the car each side of the stove; animatedly discussing the one that got away, the bear that came too close, the moose that nicked their snowmobile or some such!

All too soon it was time to jump out at Searchmont and retrieve the car. After a brief chase of the train for phots there was now only one task in hand. HEAD SOUTH!


Worth all the driving. 1752 crosses Kensington trestle.

Darkness was beginning to fall as we crossed back into the US and, apart from a stop for some night phots at a WC engine terminal, we decided to push on as far as we could.

Now picture the scene. Three men in a car, two of whom are drivers, used to the needs and foibles of motor vehicles. You would have thought there fore that one of them may at one point have thought “petrol”. NO! A yellow light blinked on in the instrument pack. Hmm, picture of a petrol pump. OOPS!

“How far do you think to the next gas station?”

“Dunno! How far have we got?”
“Dunno! What’s the handbook say?”

“Symbol indicates only reserve left in tank”

“That’s helpful! 1 mile, 10 miles?”

“Dunno! Who’s walking if we run out?

“Dunno! What about bears?

“AH!”

This issue had been raised previously during “relief” stop when a rustling in the pitch black bushes had precipitated the fastest return to a car on record. We carried on in hope, dark forest to the left, dark forest to the right and a now seemingly very small patch of headlights on the long tarmac ahead.

I don’t normally do car reviews but for those who may be interested I can vouch that “reserve” in a Sable is a long way (Thank you Ford). We arrived at a group of buildings, apparently too small to warrant a name and pulled up to the pumps. With tank brimmed, we went in to pay and found the clerk engaged in discussion about a camper outside with a prospective purchaser. He then departed and, having paid the clerk we made our way back out at which point she switched of the gas station and left! Close call! Now having followed numerous wandering Winnebago during the trip I would have gladly killed anyone who expressed a desire to buy one. Irony then that if the bloke hadn’t been there to enquire, she’d have been closed, we’d have been knackered!

Marrinette hove into view once again and a motel was located just South of town. An attempt was made to walk back up the railway to town before several tumbles into the bushes made the road look more attractive. Having acquired food, a bar was found complete with it’s own bunch of menacing looking (but actually quite friendly) bikers. Then it was beer, brave the traffic back up the road and, very relieved, bed!

Traction Type Train From - To
RBM623 Hertz rental car - Sault san Marie - Search Mont (the long way)
ACR(WC) 1753 EMD/FP9 ??? Searchmont - Aguwa Canyon
ACR(WC) 1752 EMD/FP9 ??? Aguwa Canyon - Searchmont
RBM623 Hertz rental car - Searchmont - Marinette


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