Runaway Cows on the Bruce Peninsula

Lake Huron

It was time to leave Parry Sound and head to Lake Huron, our next, and almost final, stop on the Great lakes tour. We just needed to maneuver out of the small site we had been jammed into for the past few days.  By using the site across from us, and with the help of a tall German man from the site next to us, who could hold back the tree branches, we got the RV out and were soon on the road, no damage, no divorce.  We avoided the main highway and enjoyed rural secondary roads across the southern end of Georgian Bay to Bruce  Peninsula. The Peninsula, East of Toronto,  juts out into Lake Huron and Georgian Bay. We were heading to its western tip and Bruce Peninsula National Park.

Most of the drive was farmland, reminiscent of Door County, but not quite as pastoral. The road went up the middle of the peninsula, with side roads to each town on the water. There no roads along the coast, so we didn’t get any scenic water views.  Once settled in we spent a few days doing out usual thing, exploring the Park, playing some golf  and enjoying the local area.

The Grotto

At the park we took the 3 km hike to the grotto, a cave strewn area carved out of the cliffs that served as a popular swimming hole.. The direct path was mobbed with people, dogs and kids, so we took the less direct route, past a lake and over a shoreline composed of broken slabs of rock. The scenery was nice, the people were fewer, but we had to spend most of our time watching our footing, not the view. We finally made it to the grotto, a large cave with a deep pool of water and it was like Grand Central Station, filled with the same people, dogs and kids we had tried to avoid on the path. We continued our climb, looking for the path back and a quieter place to relax but the next cove was even more crowded. Realizing that a National Park in the Summer probably wasn’t the best spot to find solitude we drove on to the tip of the peninsula, Tobermory, and had an early lunch.

Rocky Coves lined the shore

We spent some time at Sauble Beach, a long, sandy beach filled with people enjoying the fine weather. Lake Huron loomed before us and in the heat looked inviting. I can see why so many people head here for summer weekends and vacations. We can tell we are no longer in the wilds of Ontario. The place had a definite urban vacation spot feel about it. We were back in civilization. But not all the way back.

Sauble Beach

On our final afternoon we went to the Sauble Beach Golf Club and played a round of golf. It was a pleasant enough course, set in the rural farm area. We were on the third hole waiting to tee off when there was a commotion in the shrubs to our right. We were left speechless as three huge steers tore across the fairway. Still trying to process what we were seeing, several course employees burst from the same bushes, chasing the steers down in golf carts. Now an average steer probably weighs around 1200 pounds. If you are a course manager you do not want one, much less three of them,  running across your very expensive greens. The ensuing “roundup” was hilarious as the course workers tried to protect their greens and get the cows back on the farm from which they had obviously escaped. We suspended our play, hopped in our cart and took off after them. It was the three stooges meets Rawhide and made for an entertaining half  hour of laughs until, joined by some farmhands, the steer were finally corralled and their great escape cut short.