Friday afternoons in the summertime are made for getting out of town: for leaving work early, hitting the open road, and – several hours later – arriving at some idyllic slice of Canadiana for a weekend of great food, cold drinks and, perhaps most importantly, time in nature with loved ones. In theory, at least. The reality tends to go a bit differently. Taking hours to pack the car. The awful traffic heading north.
‘This sure beats our regular morning ‘zoom’ meetings, eh?,’ I grunt to my TOQUE Partner, Cai Sepulis, as we cycle up the rail trail just past Ariss. She nods in agreement and then, with a determined smile on her face, drops the hammer to catch up with her wife, Sonia, and my fiancée, Liz, who are biking together about fifty yards ahead.
It’s a Tuesday in early June. Just before noon. As our small yet mighty crew rolls into the charming hamlet of Milverton, I am ready to take a load off. ‘Not too much longer,’ remarks Taylor, our ride lead, before adding: ‘Our lunch spot’s just ahead.’ Phew.
Travel tends to sharpen taste. It introduces new ideas, uncovers unforeseen obsessions, and offers the occasional epiphany – nudging your sense of beauty and your grasp of craftsmanship in new directions. For Ryan LeClair, founder of Makoto Watch Company out of London, Ontario, it was travel – and specifically a trip to Japan – that transformed his infatuation with watch collecting into his initiation of a brand built on craft, restraint, and everyday practicality.
Almost nothing we carry defines us more clearly than the books in our bags: tactile objects filled with ideas and stories – testimonies to time well spent. They tag along with us, mark our days, and shape the rhythm of how we move through the world. In Uptown Waterloo, three long-standing independent bookstores – Carry-On Comics & Books (46 years young), Words Worth Books (42 years), and Old Goat Books (25 years) – offer distinct ways to build this bracket of everyday carry: a nostalgia-driven comic haven built for the thrill of discovery, a curated literary hub grounded in conversation, and a densely-packed used bookstore where the search is part of the reward. Together, these enduring fixtures map a reading life – charting not just what we read, but how we come to find it.
In my line of work – as writer, photographer, editor, regional explorer – EDC isn't a trend. It's infrastructure. Most days I'm in motion: tracing backroads toward a brewhouse, mapping my way to an artist's studio, or sliding into the corner of a coffee shop where I turn field notes into final copy and RAW files into photographs that will pop on paper. My office is wherever I set my bag down. My tools make it possible.
Stratford – and, by extension, Perth County – lends itself to takeaway. A coffee to carry, a sandwich in hand, something sweet tucked alongside – then out into the streets for window shopping, into the theatres for a performance, or down to the riverbank for a nosh.
