The string of people grows pinker as you drive up the 400, peaking at the 69/17 turnoff. Sure there’s baited areas, like the Tim’s at Espanola, but the French-Métis-’Nish factor kicks in around Lively, and I for one, always breathed a little easier. Until Elliot Lake, then it was not only pink again, but old. To break the weather channel tedium we spent Saturdays at the mall conducting our strangely satisfying Zellers-Library-Foodland routine, something we did for twenty years. This is dad’s birthday week, and had he lived to be 87, we’d have been there when the roof caved in.
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I remember the fantastic loot you used to bring back from the mall. In a town of this size the mall is probably the retail hub for the whole area. This must affect a great many people.
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