I. Am. Upper. Canadian!

Today I learned that, to the good people of the Maritimes, those of us from the urban areas of eastern and southern Ontario are known as "Upper Canadians." Spoken with nose firmly in the air, too, as pointed out by the person who will likely become my most trusted resource on such matters - Dave.

I found that odd. Of course I'm very familiar with the term "Upper Canada." I've heard it all my life. I've even been to Upper Canada Village several times. But I've never thought of myself as an Upper Canadian. But technically, I guess I am! Whatdya know.

This news about myself was delivered during a day-long road trip to our offices in New Glasgow and Truro. My second road trip while here, and a route map is dutifully provided for the curious (click on the map for a bigger view). Note that, had I kept going for another hour and a bit past New Glasgow, I would have found myself on Cape Breton Island.

New Glasgow sits at the tip of the East River of Pictou, which is actually one fork of a deep, chicken-foot shaped bay comprised of the East, West and Middle "Rivers" of Pictou. The bay opens into Northumberland Strait, across which is the most southerly point of Prince Edward Island. I suspect there's a ferry not far from New Glasgow which would take you there.

I was in these two fine towns to observe the delivery a speech to introduce staff to the overview of our special project. We have individuals at each office who will carry on from here and ensure that the company's goals are being met going forward. (Did you like that corporate-speak there? "Going forward?" Not bad, eh?)

As Tonia rather derisively indicated yesterday when I told her I was going there, neither Truro or New Glasgow are much to speak of. The "city" of Truro has a population of just over 11,000. It sprawls like a wheat field. The thing I noticed most there were the many tree sculptures all over the place...rough-hewn figures buzzed out of tree trunks by ambitious men with chainsaws. Truro grew out of a farming community and grew in stature when the railway went through. It's now known as "the hub of Nova Scotia."

New Glasgow, with a city population of only 9,400 souls, is an industrial town, with mining, machinery factories and a pulp mill (the distinctive stench of a pulp mill was blessedly absent during my visit). Just three kilometres south of New Glasgow is Plymouth, the site of the Westray Mine disaster, in which 26 miners were killed in 1992. That mine is now closed, and 11 of the dead are still buried in the collapsed passages below the memorial that sits on the surface to mark their grave.

There's a somewhat morbid humour in both towns about the "hemmoraging" of young people from the communities. People here seem resigned to the fact that with no jobs to offer, their best and brightest will leave to find more fertile ground for their skills. You can see the result everywhere you go. Even Dartmouth, where I live, most of the people I see are not living affluent lives. There is a lot of poverty here.

It's a harsh environment too. Dave was laughing at me on the drive between New Glasgow and Truro after lunch when a sudden snow squall had me gripping my steering wheel and slowing down enough to make other traffic pass me like I was an old lady on quaaluds (qualuuds?). "Ah, you'll have salt-water runnin in yer veins before this is all over...and you'll never get it outta you," he said. I think he was trying to encourage me. I was more concerned with the ice that seemed to be forming on the road like hoar-frost on a window in a sudden cold-snap.

Snow was blasting down and the wind...well, the wind. Let's just say my car does NOT handle well in high winds. Dave explained that it would pass soon, as we happened to be at the highest point in Nova Scotia, "on the mountain top," he called it with a sardonic laugh, as it really wasn't much more than a really, REALLY big hill. He also informed me, as I gritted my teeth and felt the blood drain from my body, that we were currently travelling in one of Nova Scotia's three "death zones." Great.

We did survive, however. I do have to go back to Truro on Wednesday for another presentation, but thankfully, the Death Mountain is beyond Truro and I won't have to go through there again anytime soon. I hope.

It's a good highway though. Two-lane divided highway all the way from Dartmouth to New Glasgow and beyond.

So that was my day. Tomorrow I'm in the office all day. I think I'll try and get some actual DESIGN work done for the first time in over a month. It'll be nice to have soemthing to show Dave when he comes back next week. It'll be nice to feel like I've actually gotten something accomplished too. All this reading, reasearch and discussing has given me tons of ideas, but none of them have been executed yet. So, tomorrow, we ride!!