Stifled by endless school
assignments and shitty fall weather, I decided recently that it was time for
another small adventure to recharge my batteries and remind myself of life
outside. But where to go, and what to do? I love Toronto, but it can be one
hell of an entrapment when you’re looking for a bit of solitude. Perhaps I
could find a nice private cabin in Muskoka that doesn’t cost my unborn child’s
college tuition? Or maybe Niagara Falls happens to accommodate the winter
camper? All wishful thinking, none a feasible option.
I was almost ready to
give up, convincing myself that escaping the concrete jungle was an
impossibility on my measly budget and strict timescale. At the same time, the
semesters end had me yearning for a good read, and I picked up Cheryl Strayed’s
Wild, because if I couldn’t travel
physically goddamit I was at least going
to go somewhere mentally. Strayed not only captured my attention in her
incredible true story of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, but also reminded me
of how much I fucking love hiking. It
was, very quickly after this revelation, when I decided to go on a trip anyways
and see the world-famous Bruce Trail.
The Bruce Trail, in
case you haven’t heard, is Canada’s oldest and longest trail system that runs
885km from Niagara to Tobermory on the tip of the Bruce Peninsula. While I wasn’t
about to embark on an end-to-end trip (that would take about a month and a
half), I could at least spend a couple days on the nearby Niagara Escarpment
where the trail offers scenic views and an opportunity to rekindle a relationship
with Mother Nature. Its closest access point from Toronto is only an hour away
by car but can be located by using other transportation systems located in the
towns and cities it passes.
At the foot of the DPB |
A mere hour on a
Westbound GO Train and I found myself in downtown Hamilton, hopping a city bus
to its outskirts and traversing the grassy knolls of Battlefield Park to
a Bruce Trail connection. From there, the trail switchbacks up the Niagara
Escarpment and enters a place called the Devils Punch Bowl, or a giant fucking
crater in the earth with a waterfall and shit. I almost forgot where I was for
a while, resting atop a rocky outcropping devouring an egg salad sandwich and
watching my fellow hikers with their dogs that relentlessly and excitedly
explore every inch of cold ground.
I know it’s a pretty
far stretch, but I couldn’t help but compare myself to Strayed while I strapped
on my hiking pack and camera case or lost my breath on a steep ascent. Two days
on the escarpment is nothing like the brutality of three months across in the
Sierra Nevada, and I only created one wimpy blister during the trip – unlike
the swollen, toenail-dying, chewed up rawness of Strayeds’ feet (which are
described in gruesome detail in the book). Still, the spirit of being on the
trail in the wilderness was not lost on me. Nor was the innate wonder of the
Niagara Escarpment.
Standing at the iconic Stoney Creek lookout. |
My second day on the
trail followed a not so fruitful sleep at a hostel in Hamilton. Exhausted, I
found my way again out to the brink of civilization, this time at the edge of
the Kings Forest, due 45min Southeast of the city. Now descending the escarpment, I was reminded how much harder it is to
walk down than up. I emerged, knees shaking uncontrollably and hands covered in
dirt and stone from grabbing roots and rocks to stabilize myself, in front of
the spectacle of Albion Falls, a cascading 62ft tower of water. The sight of it
became the homage of my trip – my hiking was over, but I would spend an extra
hour watching how the water tumbled over each small riff in the earth, eventually
pooling into rock-filled enclaves at my feet.
Albion Falls. |
My trip through the
escarpment, however small it was, reminded me of simple pleasures – hiking alone
in the woods, with nothing to do but think about your life, moving forward and
respecting the trail you’ve already walked.
*Cheryl Strayed's Wild can be purchased here. This book will blow your mind.
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