Could
there be something in the water? Some local folks have done it again. Sault Ste
Marie once more is on the map.
Sault Ste. Marie’s Team
Jacobs, with Skip Brad Jacobs, Third Ryan Fry, Second E.J. Harnden, Lead Ryan
Harnden, Fifth Matt Dumontelle and Coach Tom Coulterman caught the attention of
the curling world.
Their
recent win at the 2013 Brier gives them the privilege to don Team Canada
jerseys and represent Canada at the World Men’s Curling Championship under the
arena lights of Victoria B.C.
At the end of March Jacobs
will be calling the shots against teams from China, Czech Republic, Denmark,
Finland, Japan, Norway, Russia, Scotland, Sweden, Switzerland, and the U.S.A.
But the beating hearts of the local lads resonate with the hum from this fair
land.
People
might have seen NO on the backs of the jerseys the team wore at the Brier but
Brad and the boys proved that they really meant YES.
There’s a universal appeal to
our Northern Ontario. Even though our first day of spring looked like the first
day of winter there is a magic to Lake Superior country that strengthens the
spirit and resolve of everyone who manages to live here. A day in the Algoma
outdoors can give a huge dose of muscle medicine.
I experienced the wonders of our region as I skied along the beach the other
day.
The
skies were that deep bright blue from Lake Superior’s
palette mixture of clear skies, wide open water and freezing
temperatures. It was hard not to stare.
The
day just before the first day of spring the snow conditions were perfect. The
cold temperatures eliminated any stickiness factor and the trail to the end of
the beach was packed to perfection. To the west, a glistening fresh water sea touched
the shore with long easy rollers. To the east, erosion resisting roots of giant
pines held back the banks of the beach. A few
seagulls squawked by and an eagle flew north towards the Montreal
River - looking for a fish no doubt.
I
stopped in my trail several times to look around and take in the sunshine. Even
the cold wind was losing its grip under the spell of the mid March sun. There
haven’t been too many winters when it has been possible to ski the beach like this.
Usually the boards under my feet scrape against the various sizes of granite
boulders.
This latest Brier win made me
think about the buried granite rocks. Couldn’t they be used for curling stones?
I called up the Canada Curling Stone Company in Komoka, Ontario (outside
London) for some answers. Company spokesperson Kimberley Tuck let me know that
the granite in curling rocks is special, so special, that a mountain in Wales
is the only source on which they can depend. The quarry outside the tiny
village of Trefor in North Wales has an exclusive contract with Canada Curling
Stone Co. A long way from original curling rocks, flat bottomed stones from
Scottish rivers that 16th century Scots sent flying over frozen ponds. And even
further from the ones we once used at school --- cement embedded in cut off
bleach bottles.
Trefor granite comes in shades
of blue/gray and red/brown and has a large grain structure which makes it
resist cracking. When I asked if Canadian i.e. Lake Superior granite was
suitable, Tuck told me that our granite is “not strong enough” and “can’t
withstand the pounding”.
I
could relate, having seen how Superior’s pounding waves can break up boulders
all along the shore.
Curling teams now have premier
rocks and along with them, premier brooms. Those who sweep, especially during
this winter of non-stop removal of snow from sidewalk or deck, know that an
efficient broom is worth its weight in bronze, silver and gold medals. Today
curlers use brushes instead of brooms. Fabric, hog hair or horse hair heads
have replaced noisy, original, debris laden corn. And the handles are fibreglass
or carbon fiber. Thus players can sweep faster and apply more force.
In spite of all the modern
developments, the game itself is still about the heart of sportsmanship. Jacobs
is well aware of this. He won the Hec Gervais MVP award at the Brier for that
very reason. The focused strong mind and the happy healthy body sweep a clear
path to the goal.
So here’s a workout song for
our men with brooms - Synthetica, a tune by the Canadian group Metric. The
crisp, gutsy voice of Emily Haines powers lyrics that reflect the urgent need
to remain authentic and stay true to form.
Good luck Team Jacobs from the
shores of Lake Superior.
The water might not have something in it for you, but
the rocks sure do.
Shh. They’re still asleep.
At least that’s what they tell me. Hibernating bears are getting a good long nap this year. Nestled snug in their dens an adult bear can sleep in peace until the sun warms up their den, or the cubs wake her up.
While sleeping through the winter might be attractive for some right now, the black bears of Algoma have been at it since the leaves fell from the trees. But during the cold months we tend to forget about the bears. I thought about them the other day as I photographed ice covered beach boulders. Some of them resembled slumbering bears. They reminded me that elsewhere there other piles of ice and snow which are hiding a bear - or three.
Thinking about our slumbering friends sent me on a Google search. I found Peter Tyson’s December 2000 Bear Essentials of Hibernation on a Nova/PBS website. The site gave a lot of good information as pertinent today as it was a thousand years ago. Bruins prepare for over-wintering by gorging themselves on a carbohydrate-rich diet of berries and other foods. (BTW, according to these stats, for every person killed by a bear, 60 die from domestic dog attacks, 180 by beestings and 350 by lightning strikes.)
During this period, they can gain as much as 15 kg per week. In early autumn, a bear (and its cubs, if any) will rake leaves, twigs, and other plant materials into the den to form a nest. As the fall progresses, the bears get slower and slower until they get the message to quit moving altogether. At this point the bear begins a cocoon life in its burrow, cave, hollowed-out tree, or rock crevice. The entrance to the den is just large enough for the bear to squeeze through; interior chambers are a metre or two wide and almost a metre high. Our furry friend has to roll into one very tight ball to fit the space.
In the early fall, the heart of a hibernating bear beats about 40 to 50 times a minute for most of each night. By December, when the bear is deep in hibernation, the heart rate can slow to as few as eight beats a minute. Fat breaks down to supply water and up to 4,000 calories a day; muscle and organ tissues break down to supply protein. Then they can restore that muscle and organ tissue, take nitrogen out of urea and build more new protein. Plus they don’t get cramps or suffer degenerative bone loss while they are rolled up for months at a time!
Researchers would love to know their secrets. Folks can’t resist trying to find out how they manage to survive. Bears hold such mysteries. On the website, bear expert Lynn Rodgers recalls his encounter with a sleeping black bear: “On January 8, 1972, I tried to hear the heartbeat of a soundly sleeping five-year-old female by pressing my ear against her chest. I could hear nothing. Either the heart was beating so weakly that I could not hear it, or it was beating so slowly I didn't recognize it. After about two minutes, though, I suddenly heard a strong, rapid heartbeat. The bear was waking up. Within a few seconds she lifted her head as I tried to squeeze backward through the den entrance. Outside, I could still hear the heartbeat, which I timed (after checking to make sure it wasnt my own) at approximately 175 beats per minute.”
This confluence of beauty, terror and cuddliness of the bear flows through our culture. We fear bears and at the same time we adore them. Folks used to make pets of them, chaining them to a post when they got too big to handle and then taking pictures of them. Probably the most famous bear, ever, has been Winnie the Pooh. Most of us are familiar with the notoriety Winnie gave the town of White River. This is where the WW1 soldier Harry Colebourn bought the young cub in August of 1914 when his troop train stopped at that CPR town. The $20 bear cub became the darling of the London England zoo and the muse that filled A.A.Milne’s pen.
I’ve always had a pet theory about Winnie. I’d like to share it with you now. I think that his real name is Winnie Depew, named after Winnipeg Street in White River and the Depew trapper that sold the young cub to Colebourn. Check maps of the White River area and you will find the Depew River and maybe Depew junction. The family was famous in the area, probably more famous than anybody knows.
But for now I’ll not worry about names of bears or whereabouts of the hibernating ones. I’ll just dream about them in their cosy dens and let sleeping bears lie.
