Category Walk Journal

Walking Nova Scotia – Cape to Cape Post #4

Robert Bradt

Between May 18 and July 5 of 2023, I walked from The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, the southern tip of Nova Scotia, to its northern tip at Cape North on Cape Breton Island, a 1000+ km trek. This is the story of part of that journey.  See these posts to read about the whole journey:

A big thank you to everyone who has bought me a coffee over the past year.  The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me, to cover things like the costs of running this blog, new shoes and gear, and journeys like this.  If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees.

Where am I now?

In Port Bickerton, sitting in Whitney’s Corner Store so I can use the WiFi, get some breakfast, and eavesdrop on the locals chatting.

Since Thursday, I have walked from Moser River to Liscomb Mills, then from there to Sherbrooke, and now to Port Bickerton (which the locals seem to pronounce as Beckerton).

Here are some stats about the walk so far:

  • Total kilometres walked – 628
  • Total # of days spent walking – 25
  • Total # of steps walked – 855,000+
  • Total # of hours spent walking – about 162
  • Total # of stairs climbed according to FitBit –  2450

Looking ahead, I have just under 400 km still to go, give or take a few.  I have 16 more walking days planned – we’ll see whether I need to add one or two.  Hope not, but those hills and mountains on Cape Breton Island get bigger every time I review my plans.

Sleeps and Eats

I spent a couple of nights at the Liscombe Lodge, and very welcome it was in the pouring rain on Wednesday past, when I walked from Port Dufferin to Moser River.  

It’s a nice resort-style inn, with outdoorsy facilities like hiking trails or indoorsy ones like swimming pools – the sort of place that’s in most of the tourist guides and attracts people from all over. While I was there I overheard bits of German and French, English lilts and American twang, and Maritime and Ontario accents.

The demographics, this time of year, are skewed to an older guest – I was one of the younger diners one night, just looking around.  Then again, school isn’t out yet so families are still a few weeks away.  But there was a nice little ceremony I noticed when walking past one of the ballrooms, to see what I think was a high school graduation party in progress.  Good on them.

I also camped for a night at the River’s Edge Campground in Sherbrooke, a nice place by the St Mary’s River. 

The view over the water was lovely, watching the swallows swoop and dive, and the sound of it burbling made for a peaceful sleep.

And this morning as I write this, I had a wet and windy night of it camping on some property in Port Bickerton owned by Whitney, of Whitney’s Corner Store.  A big thank you to her and her husband Kevin for letting me do that.  

And, by the way, they are also a restaurant serving a generously-sized order of fish and chips, amongst other things, which I had for dinner last night – just what I needed after 6 hours of walking.  Plus they do a hot breakfast (yummy veggie omelette), which solved my cooking in the rain conundrum.

I also took advantage of the opening of the Sherbrooke Market to browse, pick up lunch, chat with some locals, listen to music, and wolf down a delicious grilled sausage.  Open Saturday’s, starting June 17 this year and probably running through Labour Day.

Stories

In a previous post, I talked about the God of Fools, who has been looking over my shoulder on this trip.  The other day, I set out from Moser River to walk to Liscomb.  I started out at a good pace, motoring along and taking pictures of things along the way.

I came upon a picturesque church 

and went to grab my phone, only to realize in a panic that I didn’t have it.  After patting all my pockets 3 times, I decided to leave my pack at the church and back-walked along the road.  I finally found it more than a kilometre away, lying on the shoulder of the road at the last place I’d taken a pic.  It must not have slipped into my pocket securely.  

I thanked my stars that it had fallen on the road shoulder, so it didn’t get run over.  But retrieving it cost 30 min of the day, so I decided to skip a bit of a detour I had planned to make, taking an extra hour to follow the coast around by Mitchell Bay.  

But the God of Fools was working behind the scenes.  By not taking the detour, it meant I was back to the Lodge about 2 minutes before the heavens opened to a one-hour downpour.  Had I not dropped my phone, I would have gotten soaked.

*****

Hikers doing one of the long distance trails in the US, such as the Appalachian Trail or the Pacific Crest Trail, are often helped out by locals along the way, with little gifts of food or baked goods, cold drinks, or rides from the trail to nearby towns to pick up supplies.  The hiking community likes to call them Trail Angels.

And on my journey so far, I’ve had help from several Trail Angels here in Nova Scotia.  

  • The kind local gentleman outside Voglers Cove who gave me a lift back to town after I made a wrong turn
  • My neighbours from Lunenburg, Susan and Robert, who drove down to Sable River to bring me a hot dinner and treats
  • The cheerful and chatty ladies whom I met in Sheet Harbour, who slyly bought me breakfast while I was nattering on about my trip
  • The firefighters from Sheet Harbour who called their chief to get me permission to camp behind the fire hall in Moser River (a welcome offer, but one that I declined due to the heavy rain that day which led me to arrange a lift so I could stay at a hotel)
  • The kind woman who saw me walking to Sherbrooke as she drove there, picked me up a sandwich and a bottle of water, and dropped them off with a “thought you might be hungry and thirsty” when she saw me on her drive back
  • The local Port Hilford baker who saw me at the Sherbrooke Market, and gave me a homemade chocolate cookie when she came across me 15 km later along the road.
  • And the dozens of people I’ve chatted with along the way who have wished me well, and the hundreds of who have brightened my journey with a car horn toot and a wave.

I’ve been amazed and gratified and uplifted every day by all of these acts of kindness.  Thank you everyone.  

Where next?

I’m 3 days walk from Guysborough, where Ann is joining me for a couple of nights while I take a rest day.  To get there I need to trek along Route 211 from Port Bickerton to Isaac Harbour and connect with Route 316 to Drum Head to camp, and then keep going Larry’s River for a stay at Murphy’s Inn, and finally on to Guysborough.  I’m really looking forward to the break.

And from Guysborough, I have one more night on the mainland at Linwood, and then it’s over the causeway and onto the Island.  I’m looking forward to that as well – I haven’t been to Cape Breton in 30 odd years.

I’m getting there, one story at a time.

Route

Here’s the original plan.  I have more or less followed it as written until part way through Step 9, where I had to move off the trail, skip steps 10-13, and just followed the road from East Chester and through Halifax (step 14).  

This latest bit has seen me start at Step 15, for Step 16 followed route 207 instead of the trail, did step 17 and 18, and am now in the middle of a step 19.  After that, it’s still more or less the plan as described.  

  1. Start at The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, and follow coastal roads to reach Barrington Passage.  
  2. Pick up the Shelburne County Rail trail and follow it to Clyde River
  3. Then walk along the tedious Highway 103 to Shelburne
  4. Where you’ll get back onto the rail trail to walk to Lockeport
  5. And then from Lockport, continue following the rail trail through and past the Tidney River Wilderness area to reach Highway 3 at Summerville.
  6. Where you continue on the highway for a bit and then get back onto the rail trail to reach Liverpool
  7. And then continue on the rail trail up to around Port Medway, before exiting onto Route 331, the Lighthouse Route coastal road, to walk all the way to LeHave.
  8. From LeHave, take the ferry over the river and walk to Lunenburg on the local back roads, and then 
  9. From Lunenburg, take the Rum Runners Trail through Mahone Bay, past Chester, and on past Hubbards to Upper Tantallon, and then
  10. Detour south onto the Joshua Slocum Trail to reach old dirt roads through Five Bridges Wilderness Area to reach Glen Margaret, where you
  11. Pick up Route 333, the Peggy’s Cove Road, to walk down to the lighthouse, and then bear east towards Prospect to connect with 
  12. The Old Halifax road which takes you north back to Glen Margaret
  13. Where you connect onto the old St. Margaret’s Bay Road to walk east to Halifax
  14. And then walk through the city to the ferry terminal.
  15. There you catch the ferry over to Woodside in Dartmouth
  16. To reach the Shearwater Flyer rail trail, which takes you northeast to Lawrencetown
  17. Where you follow back roads to Porters Lake and then onto Highway 7 to reach Chezzetcook,
  18. And then keep following Highway 7, past Musquodoboit, Jeddore, Ship Harbour, Spry Bay, Sheet Harbour, Moosehead, Ecum Secum, and Liscombe, all the way to Sherbrooke.
  19. Where you turn onto Route 211 and follow the coast road northeast to Isaacs Harbour, and then 
  20. Branch onto Route 316 and follow that to Larry’s River.
  21. At Larry’s River, you follow (natch), Larry’s River Road north to reach Highway 16 outside Guysborough,
  22. And Highway 16 takes you to Boylston where you get onto Route 344, which
  23. Bears northeast and then north and then west, around the coast to Aulds Cove, where the TransCanada Highway Canso Causeway clambers across to Cape Breton Island.
  24. You feet fall onto the Celtic Shore Coastal Trail, and follow that all the way to Inverness.
  25. From Inverness, follow Highway 19 to Dunvegan and then branch onto Route 219 along the coast to Margaree Harbour.
  26. Pick up Highway 30 and follow that to Cheticamp, and Grand Etang where you’ll enter Cape Breton Highlands National Park.
  27. Follow hiking trails, including the Skyline Trail, northwards before rejoining Highway 30 again.
  28. Continue along that north until you reach Fishing Cove, and detour there down hiking trails to the water.
  29. Retrace your steps back to Highway 30 (the Cabot Trail) and follow it north to Pleasant Bay
  30. Turn the corner and follow the Cabot Trail east, up across the island past Big Intervale and Sunrise to reach the hamlet of Cape North (not the actual Cape North, just yet).
  31. Turn onto the Bay Saint Lawrence Road and follow that to Bay Saint Lawrence.
  32. Follow the Money Point Road to reach your goal, the lighthouse at Cape North!
  33. Walk back to Bay Saint Lawrence and meet your darling wife who will drive you to Baddeck for a well-earned rest

If all goes well, I’ll finish in early July 2023.  More blog posts to follow, of course.

[insert buy me a coffee footer]


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Walking Nova Scotia – Cape to Cape Post #3

Robert Bradt 1 Comment

Between May 18 and July 5 of 2023, I walked from The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, the southern tip of Nova Scotia, to its northern tip at Cape North on Cape Breton Island, a 1000+ km trek. This is the story of part of that journey.  See these posts to read about the whole journey:

A big thank you to everyone who has bought me a coffee over the past year.  The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me, to cover things like the costs of running this blog, new shoes and gear, and journeys like this.  If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees.

Where am I now?

On the road, at Norse Cove Campground outside East Ship Harbour, where I am camping for the night the Marmalade Motel in Port Dufferin the Liscombe Lodge in Liscomb Mills. (Started this post a couple of days ago and am trying to finish it, I swear!)

This 3rd leg of my journey along the Eastern Shore began on June 6 in Halifax at the Ferry Terminal.  At time of writing (June 10 June 13 June 14) I’m about 100 150 165 some odd km from Halifax, and almost have just passed the halfway point of the journey.

Places

I had never taken the ferry to Dartmouth before, so it was fun and vaguely reminiscent of taking the ferry in Sydney, to board it that morning.

After landing, I was off and since then I’ve passed through Dartmouth, Cole Harbour, Lawrencetown, Porters Lake, Musquodoboit Harbour, Head of Jeddore, Salmon River, Ship Harbour, East Ship Harbour, Spry Harbour, Spry Bay, Mushaboom, Sheet Harbour, Port Dufferin, East and West Quoddy, Moosehead (isn’t that a Bluenose name!), and Moser River.

And it’s a bit of a story but given a persistent day of rain, instead of stopping and camping in Moser River and then walking on to Liscomb Mills the next day, as I had planned, I decided not to be a martyr; instead I booked two nights at Liscombe Lodge, walked to and stopped at Moser River in driving rain, got picked up by a nice guy named Doug who drove me to the Lodge, and am now lording it in a fancy dining room having a glass of wine looking out over the Liscomb River at misty, rainy, low fog under which I might otherwise have camped, on sodden grass.  So there.

But to get back to the journey.  

The character of the Eastern Shore is different from the South Shore – more rural, more rugged, and less populated.  Almost the entirety of this leg of my journey has been road walking, and since Musquodoboit Harbour it’s been along Highway 7.  

I have diverted a few times along some back roads, but for the most part what I see has been determined by whether the road is near the coast or whether it veers inland.  

So it’s road walking, which can mean brain-off slogging sometimes, but also offers the little serendipitous scenes that catch the eye as you walk. 

Like passing a farm where the washing was out on a line, all black clothes, except for a lime green shirt in the middle.  

Or some of the interesting mail boxes I’ve come to expect.

Or the ghost stairs that are the only remaining part of what had been a house.

And I’ve kept myself amused noting some of the road signs I’ve passed, some for businesses

And some for other things

As places go, Sheet Harbour is the town that sticks out for me. The only other town since Dartmouth that actually felt like a town was Musquodoboit Harbour, and even it didn’t have the shops and restaurants and varied businesses that make a town a living entity.

Sheet Harbour in that sense is a proper town with a library and a hospital and a big school, and parks, and actual sidewalks.  I liked it more than I thought I would.

That’s probably because I met a number of interesting people there, from the hardware store manager who gave me directions to a good cafe, to the firefighters who stopped to chat about my journey when they saw me walking past with my pack.

So thank you Sheet Harbour.  But next time, you can keep the black flies to yourself.

Sleeps and Eats

So far on this leg of the journey, I’ve had a range of accommodations.  I’ve camped 4 times, once at Porters Lake Provincial Park, where I was the only camper in the whole place making for a spooky evening as the fog rolled in off the lake and the crows gathered to glower at me from the trees surrounding my tent.

I’ve also camped 3 times at private campgrounds including Norse Cove, Spry Bay Campground, and East River Lodge and Campground.  

Spry Bay and East River were fine, though they cater primarily to RV campers. I was the only tenter at either one, which was good for me since it meant that no one else was using the washrooms, and being early in the season both were almost empty and very quiet.  I slipped in, set up, slept, and slipped out without much fuss at either place.

Norse Cove was cool because it’s almost entirely a tenting campground, and the sites are set into the forest on platforms so you get a level space for your tent and a view of the bay in front of you.

The campers there are much younger than at the RV resorts – very different demographics – and the vibe is very laid back.  I met a young woman there who was friends with another woman who had inadvertently overheard me explaining my journey on the phone.  She stopped to chat as I was charging my devices, curious to know more. I explained where I was going and she wished me good luck and safe travels. And it turned out that her friend was from Lahave, just up the road from Lunenburg.  I love small world moments.

I’ve also had a couple of AirBnB stays, including a simple but spacious and comfortable basement apartment near Mineville hosted by Andrew, on my first night out of Dartmouth, which had a private deck overlooking his green oasis of a garden.

Plus, a great glamping tent stay on a quiet lake hosted by Kim and Mark – I loved the fact that I got the closeness to nature of camping but someone else dealt with the tent and provided a much comfier bed than I use backpacking.

And finally I’ve had a couple of stays at little inns.  The Salmon River Country Inn is run by Margit, originally from Bavaria, so it has a German country inn feel which reminded me of trips to Munich.

And then there was the Marmalade Motel, once an old school motel and now a fully renovated and eclectic little gem, full of character and designer chic.  And when I arrived at the Marmalade, I got the bonus of a wedding going on outside 

(part of this post was written while I was being serenaded by the wedding party singing karaoke – Gangnam Style, Dancing Queen, etc – badly and with much laughter). 

And tonight I am at one of Nova Scotia’s classic country inns, the Liscombe Lodge, old school perhaps but charming and staffed by lovely warm people who call you Hon.

*****

Along the way, I’ve had some memorable meals as well.  My glamping tent hosts, Kim and Mark, run a restaurant and pantry called Lupin, and even though the restaurant wasn’t open when I was there, Kim cooked one of her take-home-pantry chicken and broccoli casseroles for me – simple comfort food done well.

And Margit at the Salmon River Country Inn does Bavarian favourites, so naturally I had chicken schnitzel, traditionally prepared and perfectly served, still sizzling, accompanied by the simple potato and cucumber salads I remember from my visits to Munich.

Uprooted Market and Cafe in Musquodoboit Harbour serves great coffee, makes a tasty vegetarian egg breakfast sandwich, and offers a pretty darn fine oatmeal cookie.

I’ve eaten my share of room service club sandwiches at hotels all over the place, when I travelled on business back in the day, and Ralph’s Down East Diner does theirs really well.  And the fries are great too.

The Marmalade Cafe in Sheet Harbour is another good spot for coffee, plus they do breakfasts, sandwiches, salads, and soups.

The Slippery Oyster, also in Sheet Harbour, served a surprisingly tasty chicken quesadilla, not something you find on many Nova Scotia menus.

And the Marmalade Motel offers picnic lunches and continental breakfasts. I ordered the picnic as my dinner and was amazed and delighted to be served a massive tray of tasty food that really hit the spot after a day of walking.

The Liscombe Lodge offers its signature planked salmon as well as classics like steaks, chicken supreme, and Caesar salads, but even if the menu is stuck in 1985 and looking around I see that I’m one of the younger people here, the food is prepared with care and is comfortably part of my culinary past, the wine is good, and the atmosphere is relaxed and welcoming.

And of course, since I’ve camped several times, I’ve also had a few backpacker meals. My staples are things like oatmeal for breakfast

 or just-add-hot-water things like Raman noodles.

And camping has offered the bonus of being eaten alive by mosquitoes and black flies.  Nothing says Yum like slurping noodles with one hand while holding your bug net off your face with the other.

Stories

Oh my, the stories.  As this journey has unfolded, it seems the people and stories have gotten better and better.  

I stopped at Ship Harbour at the only restaurant between Salmon River and Norse Cove – Ralph’s Down East Diner.  I walked in, wearing my pack, and all eyes swiveled onto my sweaty figure.  No one said anything at first, just watched as I put my pack down and ordered.  And then the one guy who’s in every room said loudly enough for the whole place to overhear, “So where’d you walk from?”  

“From Salmon River this morning.  I left Dartmouth 5 days ago.”

“Where you headed?”

“Cape Breton.  I’m walking the length of Nova Scotia, headed for Cape North.”

“Are you?  Good for you.”

And then as the guy was leaving, he said “Good luck buddy, and stick to it.” You know you’re down east when someone calls you Buddy.

*****

And just after I left that diner, I passed a house where two young boys, maybe 9 or 10, were out playing on the front porch.  They looked up as I passed.  The bold one called out, “Did you walk from down there?”, pointing back along the road.  

“Yep.  From Halifax.”  

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Where are you going?”  

“Cape Breton.”

Shock, eyes growing wide and a disbelieving glance at his friend. After a moment to pick up his jaw, he blurted out “Why?”

“To explore, to see things.  That’s how you learn, by exploring.”

Dubious shake of the head, another quick glance at his friend.  “Good luck, mister.”

“Thanks.”

*****

Sheet Harbour offered a wealth of characters.  There was the owner of the East River campground, who asked about my journey, and after we got to chattin’, offered to give me a lift to a local restaurant and then stayed to have dinner with me.  We talked for an hour about travelling, life in general, and just doing things while you can and are able  – we were both of a certain age.  Afterwards he gave me a guided tour of the town and shook my hand as we parted – “good luck”.  

Then the next morning I went to the Marmalade Cafe for breakfast.  I spent an hour reviewing my upcoming plans while eating, as regulars came and went.  When I got up to leave, and walked over to where I’d left my pack, two women came up.  “Where are you off to then?”

“Cape Breton.”

“Are you now.  Where did you start from?”

And then after a few minutes of chit and chat as I explained my journey, they asked where I was heading next.  “Port Dufferin to the Marmalade Inn tonight, and then somewhere around Moser River, but I don’t know where I’ll stay that night.”

More chat and suggestions and conferring between themselves and offers to call a friend to see whether I could camp on so-and-so’s land, and several other suggestions.  Finally, I said thank you for their advice and we wished each other well.  “Keep going, you’ll do it”, they said.

And then, after they’d left, I turned to pay for my breakfast.  “It’s paid for”, said the server. “Those two ladies took care of it“.  So thank you, the Ladies of Sheet Harbour Who Frequent The Marmalade Cafe.  I’m smiling as I write this.

Where next?

The immediate next step is to go back to Moser River, then walk to Liscomb Mills as I’d planned and keep going along the Eastern Shore.  Once I reach Sherbrooke, I can finally get off of Highway 7.  I’ll follow Route 211 for a while and then at Isaac’s Harbour I’ll connect with Route 316 which will take me to Larry’s River.

Oh, and here’s another story.  At Larry’s River, a treat is in store.  In booking my stay at Murphy’s Inn, I was corresponding with the owner, Bob. I explained about my journey, and he in turn was interested enough to chat about it with others in the area.  The upshot is that he’s arranged to have me invited to a lobster supper, with chats with several local historians and fellow guests interested in the history of the area and the Inn, and on top of that I’ll be interviewed by the local paper.  Thanks Bob, I’m very much looking forward to it.

And that’s really the story of this journey, it’s been about meeting great people – the finest kind.

Thank you, Nova Scotia.

Route

Here’s the original plan.  I have more or less followed it as written until part way through Step 9, where I had to move off the trail, skip steps 10-13, and just followed the road from East Chester and through Halifax (step 14).  

This latest bit has seen me start at Step 15, for Step 16 followed route 207 instead of the trail, did step 17, and am now in the middle of a step 18.  After that, it’s still more or less the plan as described.  

  1. Start at The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, and follow coastal roads to reach Barrington Passage.  
  2. Pick up the Shelburne County Rail trail and follow it to Clyde River
  3. Then walk along the tedious Highway 103 to Shelburne
  4. Where you’ll get back onto the rail trail to walk to Lockeport
  5. And then from Lockport, continue following the rail trail through and past the Tidney River Wilderness area to reach Highway 3 at Summerville.
  6. Where you continue on the highway for a bit and then get back onto the rail trail to reach Liverpool
  7. And then continue on the rail trail up to around Port Medway, before exiting onto Route 331, the Lighthouse Route coastal road, to walk all the way to LeHave.
  8. From LeHave, take the ferry over the river and walk to Lunenburg on the local back roads, and then 
  9. From Lunenburg, take the Rum Runners Trail through Mahone Bay, past Chester, and on past Hubbards to Upper Tantallon, and then
  10. Detour south onto the Joshua Slocum Trail to reach old dirt roads through Five Bridges Wilderness Area to reach Glen Margaret, where you
  11. Pick up Route 333, the Peggy’s Cove Road, to walk down to the lighthouse, and then bear east towards Prospect to connect with 
  12. The Old Halifax road which takes you north back to Glen Margaret
  13. Where you connect onto the old St. Margaret’s Bay Road to walk east to Halifax
  14. And then walk through the city to the ferry terminal.
  15. There you catch the ferry over to Woodside in Dartmouth
  16. To reach the Shearwater Flyer rail trail, which takes you northeast to Lawrencetown
  17. Where you follow back roads to Porters Lake and then onto Highway 7 to reach Chezzetcook,
  18. And then keep following Highway 7, past Musquodoboit, Jeddore, Ship Harbour, Spry Bay, Sheet Harbour, Moosehead, Ecum Secum, and Liscombe, all the way to Sherbrooke.
  19. Where you turn onto Route 211 and follow the coast road northeast to Isaacs Harbour, and then 
  20. Branch onto Route 316 and follow that to Larry’s River.
  21. At Larry’s River, you follow (natch), Larry’s River Road north to reach Highway 16 outside Guysborough,
  22. And Highway 16 takes you to Boylston where you get onto Route 344, which
  23. Bears northeast and then north and then west, around the coast to Aulds Cove, where the TransCanada Highway Canso Causeway clambers across to Cape Breton Island.
  24. You feet fall onto the Celtic Shore Coastal Trail, and follow that all the way to Inverness.
  25. From Inverness, follow Highway 19 to Dunvegan and then branch onto Route 219 along the coast to Margaree Harbour.
  26. Pick up Highway 30 and follow that to Cheticamp, and Grand Etang where you’ll enter Cape Breton Highlands National Park.
  27. Follow hiking trails, including the Skyline Trail, northwards before rejoining Highway 30 again.
  28. Continue along that north until you reach Fishing Cove, and detour there down hiking trails to the water.
  29. Retrace your steps back to Highway 30 (the Cabot Trail) and follow it north to Pleasant Bay
  30. Turn the corner and follow the Cabot Trail east, up across the island past Big Intervale and Sunrise to reach the hamlet of Cape North (not the actual Cape North, just yet).
  31. Turn onto the Bay Saint Lawrence Road and follow that to Bay Saint Lawrence.
  32. Follow the Money Point Road to reach your goal, the lighthouse at Cape North!
  33. Walk back to Bay Saint Lawrence and meet your darling wife who will drive you to Baddeck for a well-earned rest

If all goes well, I’ll finish in early July 2023.  More blog posts to follow, of course.


Like what you read? Buy me a coffee. Your donation helps offset the costs of maintaining this blog.

Walking Nova Scotia – Cape to Cape Post # 2

Robert Bradt 1 Comment

The Project

Between May 18 and July 5 of 2023, I walked from The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, the southern tip of Nova Scotia, to its northern tip at Cape North on Cape Breton Island, a 1000+ km trek. This is the story of part of that journey.  See these posts to read about the whole journey:

A big thank you to everyone who has bought me a coffee over the past year.  The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me, to cover things like the costs of running this blog, new shoes and gear, and journeys like this.  If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees.

Where am I now?

Home, in Lunenburg, where the rain is washing the blossoms off of the crab apple tree to create a pink snowfall in the drive,

and Ann has just made chocolate chip cookies – yum! 

I started on May 18 at The Hawk on Cape Sable Island and have now walked all the way to Halifax, reaching the Ferry Terminal on June 2.  At time of writing (June 3), I’m home for a couple of rest/wait-out-the-rain days. 

Where have I been?

My plan all along was to walk this journey in stages.  On May 16 I did my final pack run-through to get ready, 

and on May 17 Ann and I drove down to Barrington Passage to be ready for the big beginning.  

So between May 18 and May 28, I did Stage 1, from The Hawk on Cape Sable Island (with the Cape Sable lighthouse behind my shoulder)

to Lunenburg, covering approximately 240 km over 10 days. I walked along the Shelburne, Queens, and Lunenburg county rail trails,

as well as many kilometers of roads, passing through Barrington, Clyde River, Shelburne, Lockeport, Sable River, Port Mouton, Summerville, Liverpool, East Port Medway, Broad Cove, Petite Riviere, and LaHave along the way.

And as it turned out, had I started my walk a week later, the massive wildfire in the Barrington Lake/Shelburne area would have stopped me right at the beginning.  It would not be the only time that the God of Fools looked out for me.

(To explain, I have to think that there must be at least one god of fools in many of the world’s mythologies and theologies.  Whomever/whatever that god(s) is/was/are/were, that’s my patron saint(s), my deus stultorum.  Let’s call him/her/they “Goff”.  I picture he/her/they wearing a befuddled frown and one shoe, with a broken lace.)

While I was walking from Liverpool towards home, and during my rest day in Lunenburg, news reports escalated about two wildfire situations, one behind me in the Shelburne area which had burned some of the areas I’d just walked through, and one ahead of me north west of Halifax that threatened to block my way to the city.

During my rest day, I looked at the fire situation, and decided to continue with the second stage, following my planned route as closely as I could between Lunenburg and Halifax. I wanted to follow the rail trail to Upper Tantallon and then detour south through the Chebucto peninsula’s wilderness areas to Peggy’s Cove and back towards the city, but the wildfire situation changed rapidly as I walked.

For the first 2 days of this second stage, I was able to follow the Rum Runners Trail, reaching East Chester and staying at Graves Island Provincial Park. After that, however, the provincial government closed access to the woods and trails, so it was road-walking the rest of the way.

That ruled out the detour to Peggy’s Cove, since I couldn’t wild camp in the wilderness areas.  And that in turn led me to come home each night instead of camping, in case the fire situation changed again and I had to stop entirely.  

Over 3 days, I walked along Hwy 3 between East Chester and Halifax, passing through Hubbards, Queensland, Ingramport, Upper Tantallon, Hubley, Timberlea, Beechville and finally Halifax, to reach the Ferry Terminal on June 2, 

having walked just under 120 km to get there in this chunk, and a total of about 360 kilometers so far over 15 walking days.

During the three days of the East Chester-to-Halifax portion, I relied on Ann as well as our neighbour Robert to drop me off and pick me up.  This included a very draining June 1 slog through the hottest June 1 on record in Nova Scotia, 34 sweltering degrees, while fire-fighters worked like heroes just 10 km north of the road I travelled, accompanied by the smell of smoke, its haze and grey columns clouding the sky.

Reaching Halifax felt anti-climactic under the circumstances.  I’m just happy to have been able to complete this part, but I can’t help feeling guilty that I was focused on my precious little Quixotic quest while people nearby were evacuated from their homes.

Where have I stayed? Any memorable meals?

So far, I’ve had a range of accommodations.  I’ve camped a couple of nights on Crown Land, once next to the Clyde River (in a spot now sadly burned out, as it happens) 

and once on the shore of Wilkins Lake.  

I’ve also camped at two provincial parks, Rissers Beach and Graves Island, and once at a private campground, Fishermans Cove at Hunts Point.  

And I had a fun night camping on private land at the invitation of Eric Southey, who is creating a glamping experience on his property.  There was still work in progress when I was there so he offered me a choice spot overlooking Port Medway.

As well, I had two great AirBnB stays, in a funky yurt in Shelburne

and in a great apartment where I could dry my gear

in Liverpool, with two wonderful hosts who could not have been more helpful, Vanessa and Shani respectively.

And finally, I had a warm and dry night in a cottage at the Lockeport Campground and Cottages, when I arrived on a very wet day with a tent site booked and changed it to the roofed accommodation so I could dry all my stuff.

As for eats along the way, I’ve had several memorable meals. Best of all was the one that Eric cooked when he invited me to share a dinner with himself and his partner Annie – homemade duck-egg tagliatelle with home-cured shad roe (in the style of Italian Bottarga) followed by spruce-tip and lemon mousse. Wowsa.

And the haddock bites from Seaside Seafoods in Hunts Point were great as well.  And the coffees that Andreas makes along with their fresh-baked pastries at the Main and Mersey cafe in Liverpool.  And the brie and apple with basil pesto sandwich at the Broad Cove Cafe.  And the breakfast burrito from LaHave Bakery.  And the fish burger from Katch which I enjoyed having finally reached Halifax, sitting in spots of rain on the waterfront boardwalk.  And the backpackers dried-food evening meal I had sitting by Clyde River watching the bats swoop low over water in the dusk of soft spring night.  And the morning oatmeal and coffee I made sitting by Wilkins Lake watching the sunrise.  All wonderful experiences.

Am I actually enjoying this?

Well, yeah, I am.  It’s hard, yet that’s part of the appeal for me.  I’ve met many people along the way to whom I’ve explained my journey, and they always ask the same question – “why?” 

The short answers are, first, to see if I can do it, and second, to explore the province.  The longer answer lies in the experience of a walking journey.  You see things and smell things and hear things while walking that you don’t experience in a car or even on a bike.  

Like the sweet fragrance of lilac that perfumed the neighbourhoods in Halifax as I passed through.  Or the tang of tar and creosote that rises from the old rail trestles you cross, especially on hot days. 

Or the shriek of ospreys, the cackle of crows.  Or the offbeat sights, like the many interesting ways in which people decorate their mail boxes. 

You need to be there – walking allows that.

What’s the best thing that’s happened so far?

Two things really.  One is the realization that almost every day, there will be at least one moment of perfect peace, perfect beauty.  (Perfect truth, if you agree with Keats).  Recognizing that moment, absorbing it, savouring it, has become my goal.  Live each day for that moment and embrace it.

The other is that the world is full of kind and lovely people.  I know you don’t read that in the papers, but walking through communities, along roads and trails, past shops and businesses, I get many waves and smiles every day, many good mornings and good afternoons, many chats and best wishes on my journey, and often many good conversations.  I like this province more and more as I walk it.  The finest kind, as that Maritime and New England expression goes.

What’s the worst thing?

OK, so there’ve been some niggles and nags, that’s life.  Walking most of the day in the rain between Shelburne and Lockeport comes to mind. 

Or sweltering in heat on another day.  Or coughing on car exhaust along a busy road.  All stuff I knew that I’d encounter and was more or less prepared for.

So, really, I’ve been lucky that (oh thank you God of Fools!) so far there’s only been one no-good-not-very-nice day, which featured a quadfecta of poopiness.  Walking between East Port Medway and Rissers Beach, on the penultimate day before I reached Lunenburg for a rest, I managed to shoot myself in the foot not once, not twice, not three times, but a full Golden Sombrero four times.

First of all, I took a wrong turn in Voglers Cove and didn’t pay attention while for more than an hour, I trudged 7 kilometers in zoned-out mode, up the wrong road.  After finally realizing my mistake, I was quick-stepping back down the road when I was bailed out by the kindness of a local, who picked me up and drove me back to Voglers Cove (see, the world is full of wonderful people.  And yes, my life is ruled by the God of Fools).

Later that day, I decided to walk the old “Bear Trap Road” from Broad Cove to Petite Riviere, only to discover that the road mostly isn’t there anymore, forcing me to scramble across rocks for several km (because I was too stubborn to turn around, natch!)

And then, when I finally arrived at Rissers Beach Provincial Park where I’d booked a seaside tent site, I discovered that when I’d changed my walk plan a few weeks earlier to shorten this stage by a day, I’d forgotten to change the park reservation I’d previously made – no reservation for you!   Fortunately, (God of Fools again – there’s a theme here), there was a site available – but to reach it I had to trudge another half km on top of an extra long, tough day due to 1 and 2 above.

And since the luck of the God of Fools cuts both ways, in trying to set up my tent, tired after a long and testing day, I accidentally tore a hole in the inner bug mesh of my still almost-new tent.  Arghh.

And yet, despite all that, I still had my moment of peace that day, when I got lost for a bit in the views over the water and the sound of the waves after finally coming off the “road” from Broad Cove and I stopped for a rest.  

Any other good stories?

OK, here’s one.  Following the Shelburne Rail Trail between Lockeport and Port Mouton, I passed through the Tidney River Wilderness Area.  I had planned to wild camp near the trail on crown land, hoping there would be a good spot near the Tidney River itself, but when I got there the area near the river was too low-lying and boggy and mosquito-ridden for even a tired hiker.

Plan B was to keep going, and going, and going, for another 4 km along the trail, hoping to find a flattish, dry spot where I could pitch up (while carrying the weight of an extra 2 liters of water in my reservoir that I grabbed at the river because I wasn’t sure where I’d get it if I had to camp in the woods).  

I finally noticed a rough trail leading towards Wilkins Lake, and followed it for about 300 muddy meters to reach the shore of the lake.  And was rewarded (say it with me – God of Fools!) with a perfect campsite – elevated, on dry ground and sheltered from the wind,

with a little beach below where the breeze swept away the mosquitoes.  

After an hour of setting up camp, finding a food-hang tree, getting water filtered, and making dinner, I was just lowering myself into my camp chair on the little beach with my food in my hands when …. I heard the snarling brrr of an ATV engine.  Two engines.  Three.  Coming closer.  “You’ve got to be effing kidding me”.  

Setting my food down, I walked back up to my campsite to find 3 machines carrying a total of 5 people coming along the trail, headed straight for me.  They stopped when they saw my tent, and I spoke to the guy in front.  “We like to come here to ride our machines through the water to wash off the mud”.  Of course you do, I thought.  That explained the ruts in the track, and unfortunately, also the litter of beer cans in the area.

They could see that I was camped and settled for the night, so one of them tried to go around my site through a deep-puddled gully, and promptly got himself horribly stuck.  And so for the NEXT 3 HOURS! the group swore and cursed, yelled back and forth, drank beer and smoked, and crashed through the bushes, crushing small trees, breaking winch cables, burning out an engine, and spewing mud in all directions, trying to pull this machine out.  They eventually called in reinforcements in the form of 2 more ATVs, because there just wasn’t enough noise from 3.

It was dark by the time they finally extricated their friend, and after apologizing for the disturbance, they slowly and mostly-soberly motored back up the trail.  My meal was cold by the time I ate it, and after the last fart of exhaust had faded in the distance, I took out my headlamp so that I could see to put things away and get ready for bed.  Click – nothing.  The batteries were dead.  I skipped brushing my teeth, had a quick pee nearby where I hoped there were no ticks, and crawled into my tent in pitch darkness, where I spent the coldest night of my trip huddled in layers of clothing under my quilt.  Arghh.

But after all that, the morning coffee and oatmeal sitting by the lake watching the sun burn the mist off the water was magical.  

Where next?

My original plan was to take the ferry to Dartmouth and follow the Salt Marsh Trail out towards Lawrencetown, and from there road-walk the rest of the way to Cape Breton. There, I planned to follow the Ceilidh Trail to Inverness, road-walk through Cheticamp to Cape Breton Highlands National Park, and follow hiking trails and the Cabot Trail through the Park to reach the coast road which would take me to the finish at Cape North.  Along the way I’d planned to wild camp a few times, and back-country camp at Fishing Cove in the Park.

However, with trail and woodland access closed for the whole province until June 25 (as of time of writing), I’m having to re-plan my route.  The next stage is still about walking the Eastern Shore from Halifax to Auld Cove to reach the causeway to the Island, and after that I still want to walk the length of Cape Breton Island to finish the journey. 

However, the wildfire restrictions will mean road-walking all the way, unless, as I hope may happen, the trail and woodland access restrictions are lifted sometime before I finish.  This is also changing some of my accommodation plans – no wild camping for now, and in Cape Breton Highlands National Park, access to the Fishing Cove hike-in backcountry sites is closed.   

The other thing that’s happening is that I’m applying some of the lessons of the first 2 stages, to shorten some of the daily distances.  I find that when carrying the full pack I’m good for around 20-25 km a day, whereas my original plan featured a few 30-35 km days.  My body is too tired at the end of the day to enjoy those long slogs, so best to cut them out.  

All this means I’m adding some extra days to the overall journey, so right now I am not sure what my end day will be.  But I’ll get there.

Route

Here’s the original plan.  I have more or less followed it as written until part way through Step 9, where I had to move off the trail, skip steps 10-13, and just follow the road from East Chester and through Halifax (step 14).  Next up is Step 15, but for Step 16 I’ll follow route 207 instead of the trail.  After that, it’s still the plan as described.

  1. Start at The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, and follow coastal roads to reach Barrington Passage.  
  2. Pick up the Shelburne County Rail trail and follow it to Clyde River
  3. Then walk along the tedious Highway 103 to Shelburne
  4. Where you’ll get back onto the rail trail to walk to Lockeport
  5. And then from Lockport, continue following the rail trail through and past the Tidney River Wilderness area to reach Highway 3 at Summerville.
  6. Where you continue on the highway for a bit and then get back onto the rail trail to reach Liverpool
  7. And then continue on the rail trail up to around Port Medway, before exiting onto Route 331, the Lighthouse Route coastal road, to walk all the way to LeHave.
  8. From LeHave, take the ferry over the river and walk to Lunenburg on the local back roads, and then 
  9. From Lunenburg, take the Rum Runners Trail through Mahone Bay, past Chester, and on past Hubbards to Upper Tantallon, and then
  10. Detour south onto the Joshua Slocum Trail to reach old dirt roads through Five Bridges Wilderness Area to reach Glen Margaret, where you
  11. Pick up Route 333, the Peggy’s Cove Road, to walk down to the lighthouse, and then bear east towards Prospect to connect with 
  12. The Old Halifax road which takes you north back to Glen Margaret
  13. Where you connect onto the old St. Margaret’s Bay Road to walk east to Halifax
  14. And then walk through the city to the ferry terminal.
  15. There you catch the ferry over to Woodside in Dartmouth
  16. To reach the Shearwater Flyer rail trail, which takes you northeast to Lawrencetown
  17. Where you follow back roads to Porters Lake and then onto Highway 7 to reach Chezzetcook,
  18. And then keep following Highway 7, past Musquodoboit, Jeddore, Ship Harbour, Spry Bay, Sheet Harbour, Moosehead, Ecum Secum, and Liscombe, all the way to Sherbrooke.
  19. Where you turn onto Route 211 and follow the coast road northeast to Isaacs Harbour, and then 
  20. Branch onto Route 316 and follow that to Larry’s River.
  21. At Larry’s River, you follow (natch), Larry’s River Road north to reach Highway 16 outside Guysborough,
  22. And Highway 16 takes you to Boylston where you get onto Route 344, which
  23. Bears northeast and then north and then west, around the coast to Aulds Cove, where the TransCanada Highway Canso Causeway clambers across to Cape Breton Island.
  24. You feet fall onto the Celtic Shore Coastal Trail, and follow that all the way to Inverness.
  25. From Inverness, follow Highway 19 to Dunvegan and then branch onto Route 219 along the coast to Margaree Harbour.
  26. Pick up Highway 30 and follow that to Cheticamp, and Grand Etang where you’ll enter Cape Breton Highlands National Park.
  27. Follow hiking trails, including the Skyline Trail, northwards before rejoining Highway 30 again.
  28. Continue along that north until you reach Fishing Cove, and detour there down hiking trails to the water.
  29. Retrace your steps back to Highway 30 (the Cabot Trail) and follow it north to Pleasant Bay
  30. Turn the corner and follow the Cabot Trail east, up across the island past Big Intervale and Sunrise to reach the hamlet of Cape North (not the actual Cape North, just yet).
  31. Turn onto the Bay Saint Lawrence Road and follow that to Bay Saint Lawrence.
  32. Follow the Money Point Road to reach your goal, the lighthouse at Cape North!
  33. Walk back to Bay Saint Lawrence and meet your darling wife who will drive you to Baddeck for a well-earned rest

If all goes well, I’ll finish in early July 2023.  More blog posts to follow, of course.

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Favourite Walks

Robert Bradt

The other day, I was looking at the stats for this blog and checked to see what my most popular posts were. The answer was kind of interesting – of the top 20 posts on this blog, 19 of them are about different walks around Toronto. Collectively, those have generated more than 12,000 views.

That’s cool to think I’ve helped thousands of people enjoy walking around Toronto. Go TO!

The humbling part is that the majority of my posts have been about some particular scene or thought that’s occurred to me while walking. Those posts have been, how shall I put this, somewhat less widely viewed. Most of those have a handful of views (thanks Mom!) at best.

me contemplating the futility of my writing career ….

So this blog is helpful to people when I write about things that people want to look for – duh! – like gear reviews and walking routes and suggestions for places to try. Since we’ve moved out to the east coast, I’ve stayed away from those kinds of posts, because as a newcomer I didn’t want to claim any in-depth knowledge as yet.

Still, I do want to be helpful, so going forward I’ll try to include more like that featuring walks around the South Shore and Halifax, and other places in the Maritimes, and maybe some more back in TO whenever we are back to visit family.

To that end, check out my series called TO Walks and Maritime Walks, or my Gear Reviews, and see what those other readers have been browsing.

And if you want to help me out, you can buy me a coffee.

Found

Robert Bradt

Out for a walk the other day, we came across something that I’d not seen before. A Nova Scotian artist named Angie Arsenault has created a little artists box of foraged inks made from natural ingredients – things like acorns and goldenrod and mountain ash roots – and put it on the trail beside the Lehave River in Bridgewater.

It’s called the Little Library of Foraged Inks, and it’s a fantastic find. We stopped and read her notes inside on how to use it

and came away smiling at the idea. It’s clever, it’s environmentally aware and awareness-raising, and most of all it’s fun. It’s a classic example of spreading joy through little acts of kindness.

It also reminded me of why I like to go for walks. I love to find these little things, sometimes man-made and sometimes natural, but either way always fascinating.

Life is full of goodness. Find some and share it.

About Town

Robert Bradt

I like walking around town here in Lunenburg, now that we’re a bit settled in. Several times a week I’ll do a bit of a wander, like a dog visiting his patch (though I promise I don’t mark my territory on lamp posts). If I go up the hill behind our house and then east along Lincoln Street,

I can wander past the art galleries and on towards King, and see if there’s a sale on a Stan’s Dad and Lad clothing store, or maybe some interesting specials at the Lincoln Street Diner, and the aroma of roasting coffee will tell me if the Laughing Whale is making a new batch.

And if I keep going past King and Prince and Hopson and Kempt and climb the hill on Lincoln towards Blockhouse Hill, I’ll go past a house that some folks are building that will be spectacular when it’s done, and sometimes they’ll be sitting out taking a break on their harbour-view deck. “Coming along”, I’ll shout, and we’ll wave to each other.

And then round the corner and up to Blockhouse Hill and round the park and up along Kempt a bit and then back west along say Townsend, past a few of the churches

and up and down the hills and along to Kaulbach, where I can swing right and walk up past the Hillcrest Cemetery entrance and take a turn past the wonderful Academy building,

and then swing back west along Lawrence and walk back to Kempt, and then go downhill past the Ironworks Distillery (yummm, smells like a new batch of rum is in the works) and left onto Montague Street.

And so back along Montague heading west a bit and then cut down onto Bluenose Drive and wander east along past public wharves and the dory boats and the Fisheries Museum, just mingling with the tourists.

Oh, the Bluenose is in port today.

And say, did I just hear a bit of German, and Farsi, and Hindi, and French, and Spanish. Plus those Yankee accents – oh yeah, must be that car with the New York license plates.

And speaking of license plates, is that car from Iowa? Haven’t see one of those all summer – COVID-19 is finally fading (fingers crossed) and the tourists are really back from all over.

And then keep going up into the Pioneer park and along the Harbour Walk – but look at that, someone has hung red dresses in the trees next to the historic plaques near the “pioneer” cemetery as a reminder that those early settlers didn’t arrive to an empty country and missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls are still missing and still missed and even a small town like Lunenburg cannot turn its back on history and social wrongs.

And then past that over to Falkland and left towards the park by the tennis courts where some older players are getting in a game, and then on past the arena and the curling club where the ice is now in and hockey and curling seasons are about to begin.

And past that around to the east through the basketball courts where some teenagers are having a game (yeah, the Raptor’s season starts soon!) and past the new Bluenose Academy and then down to Tannery Row and around back along Falkland and then up the Harbour Walk and then Montague towards home. A wave to John in the pizza shop, and a shout up to Robert our neighbour to the north who’s puttering about in the garden.

I like our little town. And I’m very grateful to be able to live here.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Beach Walks

Robert Bradt
Portnoo Strand, County Donegal in Ireland

It snowed earlier today, and yesterday, and two days before that, and it’s -15 C with the wind chill. So naturally I’m thinking of walking on a beach.

Over the years we’ve been lucky enough to do that in many places. Some have my favourite walks have been on beaches – Sandbanks Provincial Park or Point Pelee National Park in Ontario; Hirtles Beach in Nova Scotia; Portnoo Strand in Ireland; Manley Beach in Australia; and dozens of other unnamed quiet little beaches in England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Italy, Greece, Portugal, Bermuda, Costa Rica, Mexico, the USA, and elsewhere in Canada.

Hirtles Beach, Nova Scotia

There’s something hypnotic about the sounds of water, the ruffle of wind in your ears, the splash on your legs and the crunchy grit between your toes. You get lost in the walk, on a beach. The heat through the soles of your feet shock-cooled in the water. The gulls you chase and the crabs you watch and the shells you search for. The perfectly shaped piece of driftwood. How did that shoe wash up here? Is that a seal? Do I have to go back?

I can’t help it – thinking about a beach helps make bearable walking in snow and slush. And soon, oh please soon, I’ll be walking on a beach again.

Holiday Walks

Robert Bradt

Every New Year’s Day, I try to get out for a walk. Partly it’s to mark the changing of the calendar, partly to reflect on the year past, and partly just to start the year right with some exercise in hopes of setting a pattern for the year.

And this year, what with things like pandemics, wars, floods, fires, hurricanes, and earthquakes, it seemed an especially appropriate thing to do, there being much to reflect upon. And yet, when I was actually out walking, I didn’t want to think about all those things.

Instead, I kept noticing little signs of hope, little reminders that slowly but surely things will get better, spring will return and with it warm skies. I walked past the swimming pool in nearly Eglinton Park and thought about sunshine to come.

I walked past the hill in the park and heard the shouts and screams of happy kids sledding and sliding down the hill, along with the rumble of a tractor resurfacing the ice on the outdoor rink.

There was just enough snow to stick to the trees, and it was still fresh enough in most places that it had that innocent sense of fun, and here and there I noticed little decorations that people had hung in the trees.

There are going to be dark days ahead, to be sure. But I wasn’t thinking about those days. I was just happy to be out for a walk.

Happy New Year.

Walks Past – Munich December 2013

Robert Bradt

2013 started out as a very good year. I turned 50 as did several other close friends, and we had a joyous laughter-filled and wine-fuelled collective birthday party in the spring. My wife and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary that year as well, in Paris, strolling hand in hand. And we had a couple of lovely little summer city breaks, to Montreal and to Chicago, where we explored and soaked up the sun.

And then the year went to shit, to be blunt. First my wife Ann was diagnosed with breast cancer late that summer, and just as she was recovering from a partial mastectomy, our dear friend Paul passed away suddenly in the autumn.

By late autumn, we were exhausted emotionally and physically, and desperately in need of a break. Since I had a business trip scheduled to Munich in early December, we decided to go as a family. And so, noses alive with the scents of Glühwein, we set out to explore the city.

I had been to Munich several times previously on business, and knew my way around somewhat. For my son and my wife, it was all new and all worth exploring. I had business meetings during the day, so they would go out exploring and quickly fell in love with the city, a feeling I shared. Munich is a great place to visit, any time of the year.

Then in the evenings we would go out together and wander through the glorious Marienplatz, alive with winter market stalls, humming with people, ringing with music, and redolent with cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg from the spiced cakes, cookies, and drinks on offer.

After my meetings wrapped up, I had a couple of free days which we spent toodling about the city, visiting the markets, nosing into shops, and trying out our limited German – danke, bitte. One outing took us to the BMW Museum, where we had fun playing what if ….

Since my son was taking a few days away from school, his teachers had given him an assignment to look for historical features of buildings, especially gargoyles, so on another day we spent several hours wandering around with our noses in the air, looking up at churches to see who could spot the most freakish and frightening examples.

And of course, all that wandering about left us ready for warming cups of hot chocolate, which the many cafes were happy to oblige.

It was a magical few days, a relief in many ways, and a reminder that there are times when you have to simply seize the opportunities that arise along life’s journey. The events of the previous few months had taught us that carpe diem is the best way of dealing with the unexpected.

Over these past few weeks, as we lurch from lockdown to lockdown and huddle inside, waiting for spring and for a COVID-19 vaccine to open the world back up, I’ve been thinking about that trip once again. It helped us heal as a family then, and recalling it now is a reminder that despite the shocks and roadblocks that the world will put in our way, there are always little things that can brighten your mood.

Stay healthy, hug your family, smile at your neighbours, and enjoy the sun when it shines. Happy Holidays!

Hand-made card from my friend Fiona who has used her COVID cloistering to become a very good painter

South Shore Walks

Robert Bradt

Blog posts are a labour of love for me, and yet there is a cost to running this site and organizing my walks. If you’d like to help with that, I’d really appreciate something for my tip jar. The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me.  If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees. Thank You Very Much to everyone who has contributed already!

*****

Over the past few weeks, we’ve had a chance to revisit some old haunts in Nova Scotia such as Mahone Bay and Lunenburg. That’s reminded me of walks past in different places along the South Shore. Since I’m writing this on a rainy autumn day, it’s as good a time as any describe some of our favourite places for a walk.

Mahone Bay

We first visited Mahone Bay nearly 30 years ago. Back then, it wasn’t quite as touristy as it is now. There were a few nice little B&Bs, and a few shops. The draw was the view, both of the harbour and the bay, and also of the iconic row of 3 churches that sit side by side along the shore at the top of the inlet.

Since then, we’ve visited the town many times, and twice have stayed in vacation properties there. Those visits have given us lots of opportunities to wander about the town, taking in more than just the waterfront. On one of those visits, we were out for a stroll after dinner along the quiet back streets of the town, and nearly jumped out of our skins when we came upon a deer which was contentedly munching flowers in someone’s garden.

It’s that kind of town. If you visit on a sunny summer Sunday in mid-afternoon, you’ll think the place is busy all the time and crowded with tourists. But wait a bit past dinner time, or visit mid-week, and you’ll find that once the city tourists are gone, the little town’s charms are all the more evident and available as you poke about the shops and restaurants. A leisurely 30 minutes will pretty much cover the town, and it will be a relaxing way to get to know the place.

Lunenburg

Lunenburg is most famous as the home of the Bluenose, the iconic schooner that graces a Canadian dime. Today, the Bluenose II is often in port, and you can tour the boat and even book a sailing cruise on her.

More than that, however, is the year-round town – the shops and services that the surrounding area depend on outside the tourist season. Because of that, we’ve visited many times. We love to wander up and down the steep streets that rise behind the harbour. You can spend an hour or so doing that and getting in a workout, and there’s also a lovely little walking trail that circles the town. That walking trail, by the way, also offers a way to walk Mahone Bay (about 10km), if you’re up for a longer hike.

Hirtles Beach and the Gaff Point Trail

Another favourite that we discovered more than 10 years ago is the Gaff Point Trail. It’s a short drive out of Lunenburg, south east towards Kingsburg. The Trail starts at the parking lot for Hirtles Beach, another favourite spot for splashing in the waves, and follows the Beach towards Gaff Point itself.

There, it loops around the tip of the point through forest and along the rocky shore, and provides fabulous views up and down the shore along with many spots where you can sit and just watch the waves and seabirds. We usually take a picnic when we go, and spend some time chilling. It’s about a 7.5km walk there and back so give yourself at least 2 hours, and if the weather is nice it’s great to kick off your shoes and splash along the water’s edge as you finish the hike. A pro tip is to do the walk at low tide so you can walk on the firm sand rather than along the rocky berm at the top of the beach.

Peggy’s Cove

Over our various trips to Nova Scotia, we had always skipped Peggy’s Cove. My parent’s had dragged me there as a reluctant 8 year old back in the early 70’s, and ever since I had written it off as overly-touristed and out of date. That changed on our most recent trip. It was just my wife and I, and without our own child (now 18!) in tow, and at an off-season time of the year, it seemed like a good time to visit and see what the fuss was about.

I have to confess I didn’t know what to expect, but choosing a sunny October day was wise, because it’s lovely to sit on the rocks near the famous lighthouse and listen to the sea and bask in the sun. The little town itself is quaint, if conscious of its touristy charms, and even though you’ve probably taken a million selfies it’s still fun to grab one here.

Chester

Over the years, we’ve been to Chester a few times and I have to admit that I could never quite warm to it. It’s a bit of an anomaly for the South Shore – it’s a touristy place but also a place with a lot of wealth. The annual Chester Regatta is a famous tradition, and it’s attracted sailors for generations. Many of them have the money needed to go with large yachts, so many of the homes in Chester reflect that. It feels a little like Cape Cod in the summer.

This year, visiting on a misty damp October day, it felt quite different. There’s a bit of a melancholy air to a resort town out of season. Many of the houses are closed up for the winter, and the town’s year-round residents can get together in peace. Walking up and down its quiet streets, we realized that it’s actually a lovely little place. The trick, it would seem, is to come off-season.

There are some little parks and shops downtown, and the harbour area is atmospheric as well. We brought a picnic and ate it in the wet, and that made it that much more savoury, staring over the water and listening to the gulls. I have to take back what I said about Chester in the past – it’s not the snooty place I thought it was.