A Journey to Zephyr

Last weekend, I drove up north with Nathan to explore some of the GTA’s smallest and most remote communities. The trip was a continuation of our summertime tradition of taking long walks in the northern parts of York and Durham regions. I was hesitant to break away from our tradition of hiking, because driving provides me with fewer opportunities to appreciate the small details of the GTA’s northern expanse. Nonetheless, driving obviously improves our efficiency and gives us access to new communities that we otherwise would never have the chance to explore.

I drive north on Woodbine Avenue through thick fog; although it’s an arterial road in Markham, Woodbine becomes sparse and rural north of Elgin Mills. We quickly pass through the small communities of Gormley and Vandorf and see a mixture of fields and farmland, in addition to some scattered houses. Continuing north, I drive past Aurora, Newmarket, and Sharon. Eventually, I reach Mount Albert Road and turn east.

Retracing the steps of our trip in August, I drive down Mount Albert Road. The scenery is pleasant, as the leaves in the surrounding forest are starting to turn red and orange. We arrive in Mount Albert in under 10 minutes. The town is exactly as we remembered it—quiet and peaceful. Once again we stop at Chen’s Restaurant and get a generous portion of delicious Chinese food for $7. After lunch, I drive down Main Street, which we didn’t have time to explore during our trip in August. However, the road is disappointing; there are no interesting landmarks, and, aside from a community centre and a few small stores, most of the area is residential.

We head northeast towards the remote hamlet of Zephyr, located in Durham Region. The road to the tiny exurb is a narrow country lane that jaunts through the countryside. There is no traffic and the speed limit is 80 km/hr. Eventually we see a sign (on the shoulder of the road, surrounded by the York regional forest) telling us we’re approaching the village. We enter town a few minutes later and find that Zephyr consists of four streets and probably has a population of 500. The community is so tiny that it doesn't even feature a traffic light. Zephyr is located deep within a vast expanse of lush deciduous forests and arable farmland. The nearest major communities are Uxbridge (22 km SE), Keswick (24 km NW) and Newmarket (32 km SW).

It only takes a few minutes to drive from one end of the town to the other; the exurb mostly contains residential homes and large parks. We stop at the hamlet’s “downtown” core, located at the intersection of Zephyr Road and Durham Regional Road 39. The area is so desolate, it’s almost depressing. The north side of the intersection features a convenience store, a gas station and a small park; the south side has a two-story office, a small library and a church. That’s it for Zephyr’s downtown. The only other amenities available in the hamlet are a community centre and park to the east, and a graveyard to the west. Two-lane country roads, cutting through forests and curving up and down along rolling hills, lead out of the town in four directions. The open roads actually seem more interesting than what’s in Zephyr.

Nathan and I go into the convenience store and get some ice cream. I ask the cashier, “what is there to do in the area?” She stumbles for a few moments, and finally weakly says, “do you like fishing?”. We have a conversation and she confirms that there’s nothing really interesting in Zephyr. The only recreational activities in the area are fishing, seeing Lake Simcoe (20 km away), or looking at a couple of landmarks near Leaksdale, another microscopic village.

Satisfied that we’ve seen all there is to see in Zephyr, we head northeast in Udora, another tiny hamlet. I drive through a two-lane country road, heading into increasingly remote territory. Udora is nestled deep within York’s regional forest; there was a bear attack here last summer. The forest is several kilometers thick at some points; it's possible that some of this land has never been explored by humans.

Unfortunately, Udora is so small that we nearly pass through it without even realizing it. We find that Udora is slightly larger than Zephyr in size and population, but there are even fewer amenities. All we can find are two general stores, a gas station and a community centre. Udora is interesting, though, because the west end of town features a small Estonian village named Jõekääru. This small stretch of land, perhaps 1 km^2, has numerous cottages located along the Pefferlaw river. Unfortunately, I miss the entrance and we don’t have time to turn back.

Another landmark in Udora is the large, metallic sign on the northern side of town. I suppose this distinguishes Udora from other microscopic villages in the area, but it seems like a poor investment. First, the letters are quite dull and are therefore hard to read. Second, I’d imagine that traffic is much heavier on the other side of town, because everybody driving to or from the GTA must pass through Ravenshoe Road. (Then again, perhaps the local government is trying to attract lost visitors from Orillia and Kawartha Lakes?)

Udora is essentially inaccessible by public transit; the nearest bus stops are located 11 and 13 km away, in Pefferlaw and Sunderland, respectively. Essentially, if a person wants to visit Udora, they must either drive or be prepared to walk 2 hrs to the nearest bus stop.

We stop at the general store. Again, curious to know more about life in rural Ontario, I ask a seedy middle-aged man about what interesting things are in the area. He tells me that I should visit the crackhouse down the road, and I’m still not sure if he was being serious. He tells me that “there’s nothing, man” in the hamlet, and that I’d either need to go north to Sutton or south to Uxbridge for some fishing or bars, respectively. He mentions that he used to live in downtown Toronto and I ask him why he moved. He gives me a strange look and says, “I’m white”, then rants about crime in the city. For him, Udora is a safer, less multicultural place to live. I wonder how many people in Udora are paranoid and quasi-racist.

We head west along Ravenshoe Road and, after a quick detour, briefly visit the end of Yonge Street in Holland Landing before heading home. The trip was interesting because it gave me another look at life in the rustic hinterland north of Toronto. I can understand what attracts people to the area—it’s peaceful, quiet, and surrounded by nature. In fact, I would probably enjoy living there for a bit. Ultimately, though, I would miss the wide variety of people and events in Toronto and its nearest suburbs. As much as I like my trips to the countryside, I wouldn’t be willing to trade the businesses, the restaurants and the museums of Toronto for the serenity of a tiny hamlet. Indeed, I experienced the ultimate contrast in Udora. The man there said he was running from Toronto’s diversity, I remain attracted to it.