shoesfullofdust

It is hard to imagine that what seemed to be a moment of small but good fortune on the French River, would end up as sculpture at the Sheppard-Yonge Subway Station in Toronto. In early July 2001, myself and good friend Al made our way to the headwaters of the French River just north of Sudbury, Ontario on a four day canoe adventure that would take us down the spectacular French. Ultimately, the trip almost turned out to be misadventure for us, and artist Robin Collyer.

The trip saw me pack for the outdoors and a funeral. My grandmother, living in Toronto, and on what became her deathbed, died on the last day of our trip. So, off I went. Teva sandals, quick dry pants and paddle in hand with black suit, dark tie and dress shoes as back up waiting in the Jeep, at the take out on Highway 69. I traveled from Sault Ste. Marie and Al made his way north from the Big Smoke.

On day one and within the first hour of our paddle, we pulled a textbook amateur outdoor move. While stopped on an island (mostly to get out of what was a "paddling on the spot" headwind) Al and I left our boat unattended and untied, only to discover it floating off shore and out of reach. In the ten minutes that we had averted our attention to other things …I was peering over our map and trip plan prepared by adventurer & journalist Coner Mihel and Al was taking a leak…our trusty Souris River Canoe had launched itself downstream with all gear, all cloths and four days of carefully packed rations. This left us with nothing but our map in hand. We watched the boat as it gracefully made its way down what seemed to be an endless, finger shaped bay.

In complete disbelief, we contemplated our options. Sleep on the island under the starry sky and hope that one of us new how rubbing two sticks together can create fire, walk the rocky shore well into the night relying on the boat to eventually beech itself or pray to be rescued. Fortunately, we were still within motor boat territory and an hour or two later we were able to flag down a group of anglers in a motorized cedar strip fishing boat (the French River is renowned for this style craft). After explaining our predicament in a relieved but embarrassed fashion our rescuers shuttled us out to the boat, which, by now, had made it half way down the bay. We towed the boat back to shore and said our thank-you(s) and good-byes.

The trip continued. After making our way down river, easily handling the more than tame rapids that the upper French presented, we found ourselves the perfect island lay over and decided to make camp for the night. While in the midst of taking in the majesty of our surroundings, we noticed that someone had gathered the perfect collection of driftwood. There was enough wood to burn a decent campfire into the night. It was dry and ready for the match. We celebrated our good fortune with wine and continued to laugh off our day one mishap. Indeed, we began to look at how things were really shaping up. After all, we were rescued, paddled our way down miles of amazing river and now we had found the perfect island campsite complete with wood to burn.

We had set up our tent and we were looking for kindling to get the fire going when we heard the rumble of a small boat work its way up river toward us. This in and of itself seemed odd as by this point we were on the river proper and had only bumped into canoeist for the past two days. The small boat made a b-line to our island at which point we wondered if we might be trespassing on someone's private paradise.

The stranger made his way to shore, humbly introducing himself as Robin Collyer, an artist who was commissioned by the TTC for a sculpture to be placed at the soon to be complete Sheppard-Yonge Subway stop. Rob went on to explain that he had spent the entire spring and better part of the summer collecting the perfect pile of driftwood that he could use as mold for a bronze masterpiece representing Canada's history and passion for campfires in the wilderness. I believe the intent was to draw a piece of outdoor culture into the most urban of urban institutions namely the subway. Not a bad idea. In the end, once explained, we gladly gave up our find and Robin loaded up his boat not wanting to risk another close call

While both Al and I have told this story often, we were never quite sure whether Rob had actually completed his work of art. Years rolled by without either of us confirming that our campfire treasure had been sculptured into eternal life. So thank you DF for the photo's and confirming that indeed Mr. Collyer completed the commission now proudly displayed at the Sheppard-Yonge Subway Station. The trip ended up being a wonderful journey - I reconnected with an old friend, prepared for the passing of my grandmother and feel like the occasion is permanently etched in time by Robin's work. Thanks Robin and thanks DF.

Thanks Lou!

Additional documentation of artist Robin Collyer's work can be found here