Scouting Owen Sound

One of my sons plays defence for the Windsor Spitfires.  They were playing the Owen Sound Attack on Saturday and I spent eight hours in transit to go and watch.  The seats were great; there were 2,936 fans in attendance; and the arena was small with good sight lines.  There were many younger children at the game just soaking up the Canadian hockey experience, meeting the mascot, and eating popcorn.  Rinks have an atmosphere all their own and a feel all their own.  I am fortunate enough to enjoy the smell of dried sweat and spilled pop in the crisp air that is a hockey barn.  That is lucky given how often I am in one.

Saturday was bright and sunny with blue skies, chillly but with no precipitation so a good day for driving.  I left at 8:30 am and rolled in front of the Owen Sound Best Western on the water at 12:30 pm, having listened to four hours of podcasts.  Seeing my son is a treat for me given his residence in Windsor from September to March.  We went to Montana's for lunch.  It is such a complete privilege to spend time one on one with him.  I had Pot Roast soup and House Salad and Conor had steak and fries.  I dropped him back to the hotel for his pre-game nap and began exploring Owen Sound.

Frank Lloyd Wright believed that houses should not be "on the hill" but "of the hill."  This beauty in Owen Sound demonstrates that concept.  It is of the landscape, not on top of it.  In admiring it, the house appears to be unoccupied at the moment.  Nonetheless, it was a lovely example of Wright's architectural style in the wilds of Ontario.

The Tom Thomson gallery is small, charming and full of gems.  For a $5 donation, his bust greets you as you walk into the exhibit.  All of the paintings are small but they evoke his style in its various forms and remind you how great a Canadian artist he truly was.  There is an epitaph of sorts after his untimely death at age 39 that speaks to the contributions he made to Canadian art experience.  I love his style as it evokes the Canadian wilderness in all its glory.  Adjacent to his gallery space was a space with old photographs of Owen Sound.  I chose a few that were interesting to me.

Sawmill Nordic Centre came calling next.  Given how warm the winter has been thus far, cross country skiing was ambitious.  More ice than snow in many spots, and some places sporting bare earth instead of trail, the 13 km trail was treacherous in parts.  Only my second time out this year, it proved challenging.  I paid $10 to go ass over teakettle twice, happy that I didn't hurt myself.  Nonetheless, the day was gorgeous and the exercise was needed given the decadent eating that happened thereafter.

The clerk at the Tom Thomson gallery recommended The Milk Maid.  I made it just prior to closing and bought a cheese sampler platter.  It is an amazing cheese shop with all sorts of different types of cheese.  Unlike the Monty Python skit, this shop had all flavours available.  Four of the five cheeses I had never tried before:  Double Cream Brie, Tricolour Gouda, Mango Ginger Stilton, Red Lion and a Chocolate Cream Cheese Truffle.  All five were unbelievably tasty, served with grapes and crackers.  Would strongly recommend!  

Mudtown Station was my next stop.  Although not a felicitous name, the food was delicious.  Curried cauliflower soup, a charcuterie board sampler platter, and corn bread with jelly.  This was also a suggestion of the clerk at the gallery, and a good one it was.  Far as I could tell, everything available was mouthwatering, all fresh ingredients with lots of local beers on tap.

The Spits lost 6-3 to the Attack, but I had an enjoyable day nonetheless.  This massive snowman, larger than the house in front of which it stood, waved me home as I headed east.  My day of scouting out Owen Sound over, I declared it a grand success and sang all the way home to stay awake.  It was a most merry adventure.