The Rural Voice, 1988-09, Page 96The valley opens up quite sudden-
ly, displaying a colourful pattern of
crop land like a peacock fanning its
plumage. So dramatic is the change in
scenery that you can almost hear the
sound of a door closing from behind
as the descent to the acres of flat land
fanning out from Lake Temiskaming
begins.
"There has always been a
rush in Northern Ontario,
either to get to it or get
away from it."
"There has always been a rush in
Northern Ontario, either to get to it or
get away from it."
Doug Inglis, a resident of Earlton,
focal point of the district's heaviest
concentration of dairy farmers and
French Canadian population, thus de-
scribes the area's surging and sagging
past. He made the move north along
with his father and the rest of the
family from Watford in 1966.
Prior to that they had operated a
tiling business near that Southern
Ontario town. The relocation of their
family and its business has probably
had a bigger effect on Temiskaming
agriculture than any other single
factor.
"The need for drainage in the area
was obvious," says Inglis, recounting
his father Rod's first visit to Temis-
kaming. "He saw three tractors
pulling one plow through the field."
An earlier migration to the area,
which is part of the Little Clay Belt
region, occurred during the Great
Depression when hundreds of people
from Southern Ontario cities were
"parachuted in." They were given
160 -acre farms (the standard lot size),
a horse, a cow, some tools, some seeds
and told to make a living. Many were
not experienced farmers and when the
Second World War broke out so did
they — from farming and Northern
Ontario.
In fairness to this early group,
many of those who followed of their
own free will (pulled to Temiskaming
by the unlimited potential in the '50s
and early '70s) made the same round
trip. With each subsequent group the
area has seen improvements — more
clearing of land or tiling — but
familiarization to the area often took
longer than financial resources or the
will to succeed would allow.
Yet even those returning to factory
jobs or family farms further south sel-
dom denied the potential still existed.
"There is never a crop failure here,
it is always a harvest failure," says
Inglis. He praises those who have
migrated to the area for their aggres-
sive approach to farming and the
introduction of alfalfa once the land
was suitably drained.
"It is the dairy farmers who have
kept this area going," he says in
reference to the large herds common
in the area. Many of the farmers now
take off three cuts of alfalfa and the
extensive legume root systems have
done much to keep the clay soils,
which are susceptible to compaction,
in good condition.
Approximately 40,000 acres are
now tiled in Temiskaming, but that
figure is unlikely to increase soon.
Three years ago the Inglis' business
employed 35 men during the summer
months. Now there is only enough
work for three family members and
one long-time employee. With top
productive land — tiled at 50 -foot
intervals — selling for less than $200
an acre in distress -sale situations,
there is little incentive to tile more
land, Inglis notes.
Still, like others who have adapted
to the intricacies of the area, the fam-
ily has no intention of leaving. "This
is a fantastic piece of the world here,"
Inglis says. But he admits to wonder-
ing occasionally why farming in
Temiskaming has not become more
established.
"It is all here, everything that is
needed to make money farming, but it
just hasn't happened yet."
Kerns Township cash cropper John
Phillips has lived in Temiskaming for
all of his 70 years. He and two broth-
ers farm within a half mile of their
father's homestead, established when
he came to the area in 1920 as a
railroad worker.
Today Phillips farms 350 acres of
land under a corporation formed with
two sons, both of whom are employed
away from the farm. Years of pushing
back the dense bush and transforming
the land so it regularly produces 90 -
plus bushels to the acre of barley, the
area's dominant cash crop, qualify
him to speak knowledgeably about
Temiskaming.
His fields of oats and barley have
been judged the area's best several
times in Temiskaming Soil and Crop
Improvement Association competi-
tions and he has taken top honours at
"There is never a crop
failure here, it is always
a harvest failure."
— Doug Inglis
the Royal Winter Fair in Toronto for
his seed grain samples.
"Big equipment has helped to get
crops in quicker," Phillips says of the
positive changes in Temiskaming
agriculture. Timing is usually more
important than in the southern parts of
the province, but Phillips says the
most important change has been the
tiling.
In Temiskaming the cropping
season has been extended two to three
weeks at each end with the improved
drainage, allowing a greater number of
crops to be grown. With an average of
1,900 heat units and spring seeding as
early as the third week in April, com
and even early varieties of soybeans
have been successfully harvested,
though nature dictates that the main
crops will likely remain forages and
small grains.
Phillips has included canola in his
crop rotation over the past few years
and has no trouble growing excellent
stands of spring wheat or peas. The
recent addition of a seed -cleaning
plant to their operation has made it
possible to sell more higher -priced
seed grain and increase farm revenue.
Wild oats are making it more
difficult to produce the quality of
grain needed for seed in Temiskam-
ing. This stubborn weed was intro-
duced through shipments of grain
from Western Canada when the area
still imported grain. It is now prevent-
ing local farmers from gaining a larger
share of the province's seed market.
Philips curses the tall stringy plant
and has walked enough miles to reach
the prairies several times in his efforts
to keep it from his fields.
SEPTEMBER 1988 19