Process: Panache/Penage

When I was documenting A-11 (Angers River/Rivière Angers) in 2003, I had stopped at the Cascapedia River Museum where I came across the book Mots and Phrases of the Gaspé (Art Campbell, 1995). This book proved to be a good read during my trip, late at night in my tent by flashlight. Re-reading it now, I am delighted by the turns of phrases that reflect the origins of English-speaking Gaspesians whose forebears were Acadians, Mi'kmaq, Channel Islanders, United Empire Loyalists, Irish, Scots, and English.

Campbell brings up the practice of intermarriage between these groups as an explanation for the hybrid nature of some placenames like Beau Glen. The French “beau” (pretty) intermixes with the English “glen” (a small, secluded valley) from the Scottish Gaelic “glean”, from Old Irish “glenn”. Hybrid placenames have always intrigued me. I have Protestant Scottish ancestry on my mother’s side and French Roman Catholic on my father’s side of the family. The expression “both sides of the house” to designate maternal and paternal ancestry (15) speaks to me as I imagine a wing dedicated to each side in my own house — with stairways and crawlspaces joining them together.

As many of the first immigrants from Jersey and Guernsey spoke French, there are many examples of transliteration, where one writing system is transcribed into another. Many of the examples that Campbell provides  involves transliteration on a phonetic level. For example, he highlights the English expression “tant tiver” (tan teever) used in Barachois, Percé, as being derivative from the French expression “temps d’hiver” meaning a very bad storm (128).

In New Richmond he also documents the general use of the expletive “colliss”, a profanity once used solely by Acadian Catholics when referring to the chalice (calice) (25). In a similar vein, “crush” in Maria comes from the French word “crèche” for a holding pen for a horse being shod (29) and “curvy-work” or “corvy-work” in St. Jules (working on a highway without remuneration) comes from the French “corvée” which originally meant unpaid labour under the feudal system (30). The word “poredashin” or "portaging" (to transport things from one place to another) comes from the French word “portage”, that is to carry a canoe and goods overland to avoid rapids or to reach another body of water (97).

A “lucifee” (Canada Lynx or Lynx canadenis) comes from the French “Loup cervier” (82) while a “mager” is a thin salmon in the Gaspé region, from the French word “maigre" (83). A “sea pie” in Percé refers to the layered meat pie  “cipaille” or “six-pâtes” made with assorted game like partridge, turkey, rabbit, venison, chicken or salt pork. Traditionally, this deep dish was cooked for six hours to feed all those gathered for the Réveillon, the Christmas feast after midnight Mass (109). The French word “veiller” (vigil or spending the evening hours in someone’s company) can be found in the English verb “veye” which was used to mean “to visit” (138). One interesting example is the expression “Bozo Bonannie” from the French “Bonne Année” used by the Mi'kmaq on the Maria reserve (17).

View Panorama PA-1 Penage Lake/ Lac Panache August 3, 2002

I was surprised to discover the documentation of the word “penage” in Port Daniel (a severe scolding of bawling-out) (94) as I had assumed in a prior post about Lake Penage (Whitefish, Ontario) that the word had no particular meaning in English. "Penage" was simply thought to be an anglicized form of Panache which means flair, elegance (fière allure) and probably refers to moose antlers which branch out impressively. In fact, a map or an aerial view of Lac Panache reveals a myriad of bays and islands, spread out like antlers. Panache seems to be the ideal metaphor and figures on maps dating as far back as 1863.

Considerating the fact that much of the lake lies within the Whitefish Lake Indian Reserve 6, what was the Ojibwa name for the lake prior to the Panache/Penage name shift? On a Parks Canada site, "Attikamek" is said to be the Ojibwa word for whitefish meaning "caribou of the waters." I will need to continue my research on the history of this lake.

 

Progress: April 13, 2009

I discovered Bikely, a site that helps cyclists share knowledge of their bicycle routes; a tool perhaps to document my cycling routes for the Tongue Rug project. I decided to test it out as I had to go back to my old neighbourhood to visit my accountant on Côte-de-Liesse. Driving up Décarie would be an option were I to have a car, but it is quite the convoluted trip by bike. It is not necessarily the commute itself (about a 30 km loop) that is difficult, only that the terrain is varied: from the recreational cycling path on the Lachine canal cycling path to the “shortcut” through the CN Railyards.

Since I had nothing on paper, I had to rely on vague memories and simple logic not having taken this route in a couple of summers. It is very satisfying to connect the dots. I find it fascinating when one cycling route links to another connected cycling route later on in time, and how your understanding of the first route changes in relation to the second as you see the bigger picture. I love leaving for a ride with a vague notion of the direction I’m going in and trying to work out the route mentally — a sort of memory map. I might look on-line beforehand and attempt some sort of sketch (I don’t have a printer), and at other times, just get an overall idea and figure it out on the way. It has been during those times where I have been lost that I discovered something that would prove useful on another ride. Were I not tentatively finding my way, I might not have found that route or detail which would come in handy in the future.

Also, the Montreal cityscape is in constant evolution, you cannot trust that something will remain the same. Countless times I’ve gonee to follow a route only to find a dead-end, an abandoned road, or I have simply missed a trail because of overgrown grass and foggy memory. It is not worth documenting my urban trails; better to store them in my mind where they are more malleable and linked to associations. Though I am notorious for having a bad sense of direction, I find I have a more intuitive manner of finding my way. What is more interesting to me is to map out my route after the fact, and compare my mental map with an official map to take notice of discrepancies. Because there are always discrepancies.

Ville-Émard to Décarie through Railtracks Share your bike routes @ Bikely.com

When I used to live in N.D.G. and wanted to get off the island via Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue, I would take a shortcut to get to Lachine: north on Décarie and behind the Hippodrome de Montréal (Blue Bonnets Raceway) to the Pacific Road through the CN Railyards. I would end up at a pedestrian overpass on the 20 and be just a short cycle away from the trail by the water in Old Lachine.

Since I now live in Ville Émard, I had to start on the Lachine canal trail going West. I cut across to Ville Saint-Pierre (under the 20) and went through the new “monster home development” to get to the one-way tunnel that leads under the rail tracks to the service road. There is a set of lights on each side of the tunnel entrances that controls the one way traffic. I like these sort of tunnels because everyone using them is following a code. Namely, respect the green light. Cycling through is always a matter of having faith that the person on the other side will respect the rules and not barrel through when it is not their light.

I had found this route last summer when I needed to get a package from Purolator. I used to take the CN Rail shortcut all the time but always took the overpass into Lachine. I didn’t realize that if I continued down the road to the second tunnel, that I would arrive in Ville Saint-Pierre — a community that I would not have ventured into otherwise. It feels cut-off from everything with the railway tracks and the highway overpasses slicing it up. A little like Pointe-Saint-Charles.

The second tunnel is situated at the other end of the service road. This one is always a little stressful as it is a longer and many transports pass under it. I am always worried they won’t see me. Also, there is a business on the corner surrounded by a huge chain link fence with big trucks neatly lined up the other side. There are usually a few guard dogs who go completely mad with their barking and snarling while I wait for the light. Sure enough, I got there right as the light turned yellow, so my wait for the green just aggravated their rage. Despite myself, my heart started beating and the panic rose though consciously I was aware that there was a fence between us. I am not normally scared of dogs, but they seemed to have been trained to shred someone to pieces. I shot through that tunnel as quick as I could imagining them chasing after me. In contrast, the CN Pacific road is delightfully quiet. It is bordered by fields of long grasses where you can hear birds and see scattered metal carcasses. The isolated car or truck will pass by as I believe it is known as a shortcut between Lachine and N.D.G. I’ve only once seen a fellow cyclist. I ended up at the De la Savane metro, relieved that my meandering route avoided the noise and bustle of Décarie.

Later on back home, it was easy to retrace my route in Bikely, though I was stumped when I got to the CN Railyards. The road seemed to be missing?

View Missing Norman in a larger map

I then realized that if I looked at the map with the default view, rue Norman just stopped and I was left with the impression of a vast interconnected mess of railways with no possible passage. However in satellite view, I was able to retrace my passage. The road was quite visible though technically it is not Norman that is missing. It is the Pacific road which veers sharply to the right through the railyards that has not been documented. It's not clear if it is a private road, especially since I have seen other cars passing through and there is little signage. I've never been stopped for trespassing. Perhaps it is a little know shortcut that they would rather keep hidden? If so, they've used an interesting strategy. Graphically, the map view is quite beautiful in its intricacy, like veins coursing through long arms. The complexity of the tracings is meant to steer traffic away.

As a cyclist, I often have a limited impression of my surroundings restricted to my peripheral vision and audio cues. The rest is left to my imagination and memories of past routes. Being able to see the cycling route after the fact with a birds-eye view is fascinating as I can investigate what lies outside my peripheral vision — I even zoomed in within 50 feet to try and find the guard dogs. Yet I also find being able to see everything laid out so explicitly to be strangely disappointing and flat. It is like my sense of each place is alive — imbued with thoughts that troubled my head, with emotions from the day's events, with unconnected memories from the past that surfaced quite uninvited, triggered by a smell of a visual detail. Layers of maps, or a palimpsest, because when I take a familiar route, I can go back in time and revisit a specific feeling or emotion felt while on that same route in another time frame. That bundle of impressions of a place is all there in my head, and quite absent from the digital map.

And yet the digital map is a great tool for investigation, for seeking out patterns. Satellite view really conveys how little green space is remaining in Montreal. As Norman rounds the bend after the tunnel, there is a dark green tongue-shaped area of foliage and surrounding it, flat, grey sections of land with rows of cars glinting in the light. The contrast is startling as you realize that those grey areas are slowly encroaching on those few remaining green spaces. Only the tongue remains of what used to be a larger body of green.

 

Progress: April 3, 2009

It is quite interesting how the different waypoints configure visually on the Tongue Rug map, how they are bunched together or form a line of movement. It makes sense that placenames would reflect human migration: families with their members spread out and forming their own families through time. A sladdakavring in constant movement.

• The Lapalme waypoints (purple markers) are concentrated outside of Montreal (from St-Jérome area to Granby) with a couple nearing the Saguenay and the North Coast.
• A few of the Legault waypoints (pink markers) go as far as the Saguenay and Abitibi-Temiscamingue, but most follow the Outaouais river westward.
• The Angerbauer waypoints (yellow markers) are northern: the Angers seem to start in the Gaspésie and go westward through the North Coast and Abitibi-Temiscamingue until they reach James Bay, while the two Bauers are situated on the 52nd parallel north.
  
  
  

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Lapalme ( LA-1 LA-2 LA-3 LA-4 LA-5 LA-6 )

Legault ( LE-1 LE-2 LE-3 LE-4 LE-5 LE-6 LE-7 LE-8 LE-9 LE-10 LE-11 )

Angerbauer ( A-1 A-2 A-3 A-4 A-5 A-6 A-7 A-8 A-9 A-10 A-11 A-12 A-13 )