A Journey to Mount Albert

Last week, during the dying days of our summer, Nathan and I went on another one of our trademark long walks in a northern, rural section of the Greater Toronto Area. We traveled 36 kilometers by foot and eventually reached the remote exurb of Mount Albert. Nathan and I knew that it was our last walk of the summer, so there was some pressure to make it a memorable hike. Although it wasn’t our most exciting trip, I still consider it a success. We saw a lot of interesting things along the way, and we pushed ourselves to our limits due to the tremendous distance.

Our journey begins in Newmarket at Upper Canada Mall. The affluent, sophisticated town has a thriving commercial core and a large, rapidly-expanding population. Newmarket is the northern frontier between York Region’s massive suburban sprawl, and its rustic, largely unexplored rural tract. Nathan and I plan on walking northeast towards the vast rural hinterland.

Our first stop is at Holland Landing, a small exurb. We walk north towards the village, following the path I took during my Yonge Street walk in April. I notice a significant change in one of the fields north of Newmarket’s city limits. Just a few months ago, the vast fields north of Green Lane were bleak and desolate. However, I see that a construction crew has made significant progress on a large building (probably a shopping centre). Initially, I felt surprised to see such a large project get completed in so little time, especially in the no-man’s land beyond Newmarket. However, given the rate of urban sprawl, perhaps I should have been more surprised that nothing had been built there until now. Indeed, I wonder how long it will take before the entire stretch of land between Newmarket and Holland Landing becomes fully commercialized.

Within an hour, we arrive at the southern edge of Holland Landing. Instead of continuing north and following Old Yonge Street’s historical path, like we’ve done twice this summer, we turn right onto Mount Albert Road. Unfortunately, the eastern segment of Holland Landing is considerably less interesting than the northern portion that follows historical Yonge Street to its venerable end. The eastern section of the village is fairly bland, and features surprisingly modern, suburban homes. The walk is short, though, and we quickly reach Holland Landing’s eastern limits at 2^nd Concession Road. After passing a strip mall and a private school, we get a sudden change of scenery.

As we pass 2^nd Concession Road, we enter a vast stretch of farmland. The two kilometer void between Holland Landing and Sharon, the two largest communities in East Gwillimbury, is desolate and rural. The road is surrounded by vast farmland on both sides. There are a number of residential homes, but they’re spread far apart and are often built deep inside their lots. While the scenery is pleasant, it blends together fairly quickly. There is one impressive landmark in this region, though. One house features a massive drive-in movie theatre that plays several recent movies. The enormous screen towers over everything else in the area. I wonder what it’s like to watch a movie while sitting in the middle of a cornfield. Hopefully I can give that a try next summer.

We pass through our second stop, Sharon, fairly quickly. It’s probably the least interesting village in East Gwillimbury due to its very suburban atmosphere. The community is barely a kilometer away from Newmarket and features cookie-cutter suburban homes. There’s even a Coffee Time in the heart of the village; this is the only major franchise located in the entire town of East Gwillimbury. While there are some farms near the downtown core, Sharon feels more like a suburb of Newmarket than it does a part of East Gwillimbury.

To its credit, though, the village features the Sharon Temple, a stunning religious monument currently preserved as a National Historic Site. The church was built by David Wilson and his separatist Quaker sect in 1831. The religious movement was highly involved in social justice issues and helped promote Canada’s independence while fighting poverty. The building, taller and brighter than anything else in the village, has three levels, and was designed to represent the trinity. Even though I’m secular, I appreciate the building’s elegance and beauty, and I admire Wilson’s ability to take a stand and fight for Canada.

We pass through the deceptively small Sharon quickly. Suddenly, Nathan and I are standing on a country road, facing the longest, most grueling part of the journey. We must cross the nine-kilometer void between Sharon and Mount Albert. The long stretch between the two cities is extremely barren. Leafy, tall trees and steep, rocky hills surround the road. Thick marshland vegetation runs from the road’s shoulder to the horizon, down the valleys and up the hills, for as far as I can see. Mount Albert Road is practically a highway at this point; cars scream by at 90 km/hr in both directions. Fortunately, traffic is light and the road has a wide shoulder. There are a few residential homes, even out here, but they are few and far between.

Nathan and I approach McCowan road after walking for nearly two hours in the heat and are surprised to see a sign informing us that we’re entering the village of Holt. The community does not appear on any map. Holt contains a few dozen houses, some small stores, and vast stretches of farmland. Nathan and I can now say that we’ve been to a village so small and remote, that it’s not even on the map!

After carefully crossing Highway 48, we finally arrive in Mount Albert. The exurb, home to 2,500 individuals, seems relaxed and peaceful. The village is situated deep inside the vast, rural expanse that covers most of the northern segment of the GTA, and is surrounded by farmlands and a foreboding, ancient forest. The village is located on a small mountain; the streets feature a pleasant mixture of historical buildings and green space. The village’s small “downtown” core (at Centre St. & Main St.) features a few restaurants, a convenience store, a bank, and some small, miscellaneous shops. A small, modern library and community centre are located a few blocks to the north. All of the people we talk to are friendly. Perhaps the community is best-characterized by the fact that there are no traffic lights in town! Mount Albert is indeed a quiet, traditional community.

Hungry and tired, Nathan and I stop for dinner at Chen’s Restaurant. It’s a bit strange to see Chinese cuisine in such a small, remote village. I order beef fried rice and Nathan gets General Tso’s chicken. We both receive large portions for a very reasonable price. We have an interesting conversation with our waitress. We ask her what people do for fun in Mount Albert. She looks at us strangely for a few seconds, and says, “Nothing… but I know a lot of people like to get drunk”. I suppose this is to be expected; it certainly seems like there’s nothing to do in Mount Albert aside from drinking.

It’s still difficult to describe Mount Albert’s remoteness. The nearest community, Sandford, is located approximately 10 kilometers away. It’s even smaller than Mount Albert and has just seven streets, with perhaps 300 residents. I’ve never been there, but I doubt it has much more than a couple of groceries stores and maybe a community hall. The nearest “big cities” are Newmarket (20 km), Uxbridge (21 km) and Stouffville (22 km).

We explore the northern end of Mount Albert as dusk approaches. We’re surprised to see a (relatively) large subdivision filled with generic, modern, suburban homes. They looked no different than a typical residential street in suburban Newmarket or Richmond Hill. Mount Albert’s rustic surroundings are still apparent, though; we see a large farm house near the horizon. This new housing development is interesting for two reasons. First, I’m surprised that there’s apparently so much demand for suburban homes in the middle of nowhere. Yes, the new subdivision looks sleek and modern, but there are still hardly any stores or amenities in the area. If the new residents want anything beyond food, a bank, or a library, they’d need to drive over 20 kilometers to Newmarket or Uxbridge. Second, I wonder what the original Mount Albert residents would think of cookie-cutter suburban homes slowly taking over their quiet, distinct village.

As we sit by a pond and wait for our bus, I contemplate all the long walks I’ve taken this summer. I’ve traveled approximately 500 kilometers by foot, for the sake exploration. This proves two things. First, I have exceptional physical and mental endurance. Second, I need a car.