In all of us there is a hunger, marrow deep, to know our heritage — to know who we are and where we came from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.
— Alex Haley, ROOTS

THE BAUERLAND CYCLE follows the train track bordering Ramsey Lake in my hometown of Sudbury, Ontario. Ironically, this train track travels from one father to another: my adoptive father, the only father I have known, on one side; and my birth father, whom I have never met, on the other.

They are linked by a train track and separated by a body of water.

I walked past my birth father’s old house once. I felt sneaky, stealthily lurking about for clues. It was Winter. Somebody was shoveling. I was too timid.

He no longer lives there. I have a father. I am not looking for another. What I am looking for are the little things: history, details, stories of a hidden parallel life.

My birth father has a different ethnic background than my father. I know nothing about this side of my family. I do indeed feel like a thief ‘adopting’ my adoptive parents’ family history as my own. I have my own separate family history, carefully safeguarded, on the wrong side of the tracks.