Out & About #943 | Tiffin Conservation Centre + Revisiting Pie Wood

"Why are we going out again when you haven't recovered?"
"Because fall is very, very short - maybe two to three weeks, then it's over."

I have always been adamant about my planned activities, persevering through any unfortunately-timed hindrances that may befall, yet I was particularly determined about autumn outings. The reason was simple: Nature waits for no one.

​And so even with an impossibly late, post-stretch bedtime and about six hours of mediocre sleep, the planned route would proceed, albeit later than expected (or desired).

Since the Mono Cliffs venture of the previous week, I've come to learn the benefits of being an early bird. Of course, it's not that I hadn't been aware of such benefits, just that having them depicted in a manner that reinforces early arrivals with efficiency made all the difference. I was more willing to drag myself out of bed before 9 AM on weekend, for the sheer sake of saving time overall.

​Traffic along the 400 was as congestion-free as could be. I had spent this leg of the trip with my eyes closed in hopes of preserving energy for the drive back. Fatigue was a tragic monster to battle; I had begun dozing off while standing by the sink, washing dishes from breakfast. Naturally, this prompted my immediate shift towards the passenger seat for the safety of all.

​Google Maps had estimated roughly 90 minutes of driving, though we exited onto Mapleview in just over an hour. The designated rest stop of McDonald's was closed upon our arrival, thus we crossed over to the east side of Barrie View Drive towards Tim Hortons.

Situated at the east end of the plaza, the location hadn't appeared very big from the outside. Once within, we were surprised by its spacious quarters and varied baked goods selection. The bathrooms, which comprised of two stalls, were also quite clean and well-maintained.

I acquired up a Pumpkin Spice Muffin and Old-Fashioned Glazed Donut to sustain us until lunchtime. The latter was, as expected, a specimen sweeter than spiced.

On the other hand, Timmies' Pumpkin Spice Muffin truly took me by surprise. The creation was moist, yet not overly so to the point of exuding greasy aromas. Its surface was topped with salted pumpkin seeds, which offered a savoury, crunchy contrast to the body of the muffin. At its core was a milky filling of sorts: a stable, starch-thickened component with mild notes of cream cheese. Half of the muffin was devoured with ease, the rest set aside for later enjoyment.

​We then proceeded along local roads to Tiffin Centre for Conservation.

Unlike Mono Cliffs, the area was relatively developed. The neighbouring fixtures were primarily residential/institutional in nature, adopting the forms of substantially-sized houses with winding driveway accesses or schools. Needless to say, we did not suffer loss of signal at this location.

The entrance was located at the west limit of the site, off 8th Line. Within seconds of turning in, the trailhead parking came into view. Continuing inwards, we found signage for school buses and admin staff, as well as and one-way indicators.

Past the workshop and learning centre buildings, we looped into one of two gravel lots. A QR code was spotted, noting the permit details of "Tiffin - Zone 3011".
Prior to departing the GTA, I had secured a day parking permit from the Nottawasaga Valley Conservation Authority website. Payment could also be transmitted on site, like Scanlon Creek, though desktop versions remain my first choice whenever available. The day use permit was, interestingly, pricier than Mono Cliffs at $10 plus tax. That said, Mono Cliffs was largely self-guided; Tiffin, in contrast was known to host field trips and families for their various outdoor learning experiences - and Maple Syrup Festival!

​Just two other vehicles were present at our time of arrival. Sauntering past one with a photo permit, the trail map came into view.

​The conservation area's General Trail would lead to Papa Bear Pond and its four lookout platforms, plus one bridge. Serene was the scenery, as it should be on a brisk autumn morning.

​Despite having anticipated dreariness and rainfall, the skies had gradually cleared to yield a luminous blue. Surrounding the pond's perimeter were a number of deciduous trees; some bore vivid complexions of red and orange, while others persisted with green and patches of yellow.

View the full album HERE !

Reflected within Papa Bear Pond was the same spectrum of shades and textures lining its edges. The waters were clear, but not completely still. Ripples were graced with the beaming morning sun, resulting in a surface that glistened and dazzled even from afar.

Several fallen maple leaves had accumulated beneath one of the viewing platforms, its matte, now muted crimson palette contrasting with the dark blue reservoir on which they rested.

​Traversing around the lake on its west side led us to another viewing platform. This one was shrouded with fallen leaves, exceptionally crunchy underneath our feet. A plum-coloured bulletin nearby informed us of the life cycle of wetlands.

Turning around, we spotted a wooden building in the shade. Its camouflaging capabilities were impressive, for it hadn't occurred to me that the geometric fixture was an outhouse. Along the brim of the flat room read "Men" and "Women".

I trekked over out of curiosity. Pulling open the creaky wooden door revealed a single washroom stall with a skyroof. On the inside of the door was a scrunched wad of toilet paper and dried feces of birds. Within the stall itself were toilet paper and sanitizer dispensers.
In contrast to its appearance, the "toilet" did not support indoor plumbing. Instead, it merely served to exude the appearance of a toilet, but all organics would descend at least one metre downwards to an ominous puddle of dampened leaves and stray toilet paper. Surprisingly, even with the natural decomposition of organics, the stall was relatively odour-free.

​Of course, presentation of my investigation results are not to be confused with firsthand usage of the facilities. No sir. I'd rather wait until indoor plumbing is found once again.

Instead of continuing along Bear Creek Trail from the north side of the pond, we diverged onto a section of the General Trail that would lead towards the south access point of the Rotary Community Campground, in a straight path to the hydro corridor.

​Before long, we spotted a numbered ladybug tacked to one of the trees. More ladybugs would be spotted as we continued eastward, as if to identify scavenger hunt landmarks or denote our position in space. I presumed their purpose to be the latter, as it would assist children in navigating the conservation area with fun landmarks.

​​Other indicators were present as well: coloured paint on trees at junctions, buttons with green feet, and orange and white signs bearing different combinations of circles, squares, and triangles.

The trails were decidedly easy, featuring curves but minimal elevation (and minimal tree roots). Clearly defined was the width of the trail, for neither towering trees nor fallen leaves would encroach on the walkable path. The trail map was also spotted throughout trail for ease of navigation, without intruding on the overall nature experience.

​Observed along the sidelines was an incredibly vast assortment of shrubbery, fungi, and flourishing trees - well-maintained ones mind you - without protruding branches. The scene was varied, rendering the attraction exciting and enthralling instead of drab and drawn out.

Given these qualities, it wasn't difficult to see why Tiffin was a popular educational destination for outdoor learning. It also served as a wonderful - and economic - family-friendly venture.

Around the sixty-minute mark, we had reached the southbound portion of the Maple Valley Trail, denoted by yellow paint on the trees. The idea was to connect to the Hawk Trail at the first fork and meander back to parking lot. However, upon advancing further into the woods, we found a bench placed at the junction along with a large sign reading "Trail Closed". This left us to continue along the Hawk Trail and looping back before hitting the White Pine Trail, denoted by white.

Trail Map; Source: NVCA

My route overlay

​​Notable were the Hawk Trail and White Pine Trails had been labelled as being accessible. It was a splendid first-time observation for me, for hiking isn't usually an activity inclusive of all levels of mobility.

​We routed through the west parking lot, glancing back at the entryway in which we had come, then proceeded along the Hawk/Snow Shoe Trail to the Pioneer Classroom and Sugar Shack building. Different stages of firewood preparation were on display, ranging from acquisition in its raw, unaltered state to chopping/halving, and finally storage for use in the cooler months.

​A more modern, solar-powered washroom building was found within steps of the parking lot. This one was equipped with an accessible push button as well. However, the door was locked. It appeared that, according to the conservation area's website, washrooms with indoor plumbing were only operational during business hours: Mondays to Friday, from 8:30 AM to 4:30 PM.

As the final stop of our journey, we navigated towards the largest viewing platform of Papa Bear Pond. Nearby was a picnic table, in addition to a service building. Observed from its window were life jackets, likely for water activities in the summer. Though, my understanding is that the booth would transform into a Skating Shed come winter.

​Gazing about, there wasn't a single soul to disrupt our peace. Autumnal (and winter) weather would have likely contributed to increased foot traffic from out-of-town Ontarians, yet Tiffin had been liberated of the virulent tourist crowds witnessed one week prior at Mono Cliffs. It was blissful - a true retreat from the bustle of daily office life.

Just as declared earlier: Fall is fleeting.
I simply can't bring myself to allow such grand opportunities for exploration to perish while perched on an office chair, engrossed in maximum concentration but bad posture. Breezy, sunny conditions and a reduction in mosquitoes have consistently made for the best hiking experiences to date.

In review of past positive experiences (and my recommendation of the establishment to a long drive-loving colleague), I set our next agenda item to be Pie Wood in Downtown Barrie.

​Frankly, I must admit astonishment to the generally vacant atmosphere of the pizza place when we pulled in. The asphalt lot was mostly empty, as was the dining floor, in spite of peak lunch hour.

​Since my last visit two years ago, the menu had condensed considerably, or so my recollections had led me to believe. The options were no longer endless, and surely not the price points that I remembered. While internally conflicted over the costly rounds, there was no turning back at this point.
Grudgingly bringing the greasy wooden clipboard closer for inspection, I began to narrow down items of interest.

​We first requested an order of Wood Fired Chicken Wings - the Small size was already a heft seventeen dollars! Next, we would deliberate between Mystic North and Ultimate Canadian. The former comprised of adequate greens (roasted mushrooms, black olives, and fresh basil), while the latter would revisit the cult classic Canadian with two types of bacon and a delectable maple chili glaze. I voted in favour of the Mystic North, for curiosity's sake, though also inquired of the possibility of adding toppings.
The waitress informed us that additional veggies would ring in at two dollars, while meats at three dollars. The flip menu resting at the edge of our table would also present a build-your-own option, though presented the possibility of ultimately being pricier than the signature pies listed. The Mystic North was agreed upon, along with a Caesar Salad for leafy needs.

​The Wings arrived with swiftness, however stunned with its meager serving size. Approximately one-half to two-thirds the size of standard drumsticks and wings, we were in utter disbelief at the supposed one pound portion. Accompanying the puny pieces were not carrot and celery sticks, as we had anticipated, but rather a creamy, mustard seed-laced coleslaw over a bed of arugula. The "choice of house-made dip" was questionably Ranch-like, and none too impressive.

​Although the sheer allotment of wings emerged staggering, the glaze was remarkably scrumptious. True to its description of being tossed in a honey-lemon-rosemary sauce, each piece was comprehensively coated in deliciousness. The insides exhibited thorough doneness, albeit featured some stringy, dark grey veins and somewhat dull-looking flesh; the observation prompted me to wonder whether the wings had been pre-cooked to meet food safety standards, then subject to a second round of baking/grilling to achieve its char and texture.

Over the next twenty minutes, the restaurant would fill with patrons - primarily families, some with the rowdiest children I had ever laid eyes on. When the family in question had received their entire spread of orders, we posed our concern to the waitress. The tardiness in delivery was met with a defensive "The Wings are an appetizer, so I brought them out first. But the pizza and salad should be out in a few minutes."
The declaration prompted suspicion, for the Caesar Salad also fell within the starter category. Furthermore, the fault appeared to lie with her failure to communicate and determine whether items would be staggered or delivered all at once. As the customer, perhaps we also assumed some degree of blame. That said, maintaining alertness towards extra Visa charges and hidden extras are definitely new responsibilities for the dining out experience.

​Rather than "a few minutes", we eventually received our crouton- and bacon bit-topped Caesar Salad up to ten minutes later. I regarded with relief as the dressing was placed on the side as specified. It is worth noting that the dressing bore significant resemblance to the Ranch-like dipping sauce accompanying the wings. Dry-to-touch and crunchy were the segments of chopped romaine. I appreciated their freshness, for too frequent are sightings of wilted edges and red stems. Parmesan had also been included in abundance.

At long last, after one hour of being seated, Mystic North was received at the ungodly hour of 2 PM. We relished in the cheesiness, roasted mushrooms, and savoury slices of chorizo. While I strategically removed the rings of semi-cooked red onion, it dawned upon me that the described constituent of black olives was nowhere to be seen.
Bringing this omission to the attention of the waitress resulted in a response of "I don't think the Mystic North comes with olives, but let me check the menu." before whisking herself away. Her attitude was hurried rather than amicable, but I was appreciative of the willingness to fact check. Surely enough, she returned several minutes later to confirm the inclusion of olives, then brought a bowl of warmed olives from the kitchen. Being merely warmed (likely microwaved), the herbs retained their trademark pungency and plumpness instead of shrivelled inner and outer circumferences - properties usually associated with dehydration. This quality lent a unmistakable sense of disharmony to the pizza. Nevertheless, the compensation was received better than its omission.

​The base of the pizza was as thin as I recalled and encompassed in a puffy brim, bridging the qualities of Papa Giuseppe's stone oven creations and Goodfellas' wood oven compositions, with reduced char and spottiness, of course.

​Worth noting is the restaurant's washroom facilities. In spite of its relatively low usage, hygiene was seriously lacking. The interior reeked of an eerie dampness, while the stalls exuded a noticeable griminess. Flushing capabilities were atrocious across all three units. However, worst of all was the positioning of the sanitary disposal bins: Tacked onto the back of the door, one would likely scrape one's foot on the rusty bin while entering if not ̶o̶b̶s̶e̶r̶v̶a̶t̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶informed beforehand. Instead of being fixed to the centre of the door's backside, the bin rested at eye-level once seated, allowing users a front-row experience to bodily discharge odours while conducting their business. All in all, the bathrooms were the most poorly designed element of the entire eatery.

Returning to the west end suburbia, we re-entered civilization and encountered congestion on the 400 and 401, as expected. Rerouting as a result of lane closures enabled a detour to Nani's Gelato.

​There, a Pineapple Sorbetto and Vanilla Bean and Chocolate Soft Serve were obtained. Although declared as a "Kids Scoop", the quantity was far beyond a single serving, thus inducing a sense of satiation.

​As part of the gelato shop's "freezer cleanout" initiative, two pints of Vegan Dark Chocolate and Ontario Grape Sorbetto were procured at 50% off - the equivalent of $5.99 per 500 ml container.

​Vegan Dark Chocolate had been chosen in place of Salted Dark Chocolate on the basis of economics, but proved itself unworthy of such investment. The concoction presented a "faux chocolate" aura, devoid of the anticipated creaminess associated with ice cream. It was as if one had sampled a tiramisu with its cream component removed.

​Ontario Grape Sorbetto was distinctively icy, but passable on its own. Personally, I concluded its full potential achieved with a shot of Hakutsuru Sayuri.