Tuesday, July 14, 2009

The Final Days on the FFP

PART THREE

The morning of day two started with a gray sky but the air and water was calm. The space inside my head was empty but filling rapidly with the various sensory triggers that are now very familiar to me in this wilderness. My brother already had the fire going again and before long we had a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs ready. We had managed to carry in eight eggs safely the first day and I always insist on Maple Leaf Ready Bacon. It is precooked and lightweight, two ideal traits for backpacking food.

After breakfast I go through my regular routine as I break camp and repack my backpack. First my sleeping bag and bedroll go in. Then my clothes, packed into a couple of large zip-lock bags, followed by whatever fits best until it is all in there. Last is my tent which I attach to the side of my pack, tent on one side, poles on the other. It works well for me. My stove and water filter, along with my snacks, camera, and journal go into the top bag to round out my gear.

Like when I leave Long Beach Creek, the hike out of Seeley also brings sorrow. I often fear that I may never get back there before it loses its wilderness appeal to the planned development of the Fundy Trail Parkway. Alas, I have my own reality and non-wilderness issues that I need to deal with. So, for the sake of keeping somewhat of a schedule, we all head up and out of Seeley Beach. We amble towards what, I think, is the toughest part of the Fundy Footpath hike.

The steep climb out of Seeley Beach takes you from sea level to an elevation of slightly over 200m. The first part of the climb is through lush softwoods, mainly spruce and fir, of various ages. The next stage is a small walk along an ATV trail, (not my cup of tea) before turning back towards the cliffs overlooking the Bay. For a short time here the walk is level and you are granted many great views of the Bay. On a clear day you can easily make out the shores of Nova Scotia and Iles d’Haut. The climb then gets very steep again as you scramble up around exposed rock faces that seem haunting. This eventually brings you to the south ridge of Cradle Brook, which is now 200m+ below you to the northeast.

Now some people think that walking uphill is tough, but for some downhill is just as hard, especially if it is steep enough to make even an able foot mountain goat wary. The descent into Cradle Brook, while maybe not really tough for a mountain goat, is no walk in the park. You will cling tight to some smaller rock faces and zigzag down into the Valley. Suddenly, you enter an old meadow where, no matter the weather, the temperature always seems a degree or two warmer. The walk then levels off for a time before the final steep drop into Cradle Brook. In approximately 4km you hike from sea level to 200m and then back again, none of it easy.

Needless to say we take a well deserved break at Cradle Brook. The sun is shining and our stomachs are hollering for sustenance. It is amazing what the human body will endure and how quickly it can recover. Backpacking has taught me this time and time again. In a short time we humped up out of Cradle Brook and because of the intense hike earlier we made light work of this steep climb. We were now heading to Little Salmon River and I had it in my head to take an alternate route to get there.

As the group approached the McCumber Brook access trail we halted to consider our options. I really wanted to see the Walton Glenn Canyon. I thought, to save time, we could hike the access trail to the road; follow it to the Walton Glenn Canyon Trail; hike that to Little Salmon River; and follow the river to the campsite for that night. The group although hesitant, seemed agreeable to that plan. As we left the FFP though, I had a line from one of my son’s newest cartoon favorites ringing in my head. “Oh oh Zigby, I think your trotting us into trouble.” I shrugged it off though and headed down this new route.

The new route would take us into Walton Glenn Canyon, where waterfalls and massive rock faces were the norm. We first had to get there though. I had never done this portion of the hike with a pack on before and I was in for a reality check. Typically, I accessed this area by coming up Little Salmon River to the confluence of Walton Glenn Brook and then hiking through the “Eye of the Needle” up to the Walton Glenn amphitheater and onto the top of the valley. Usually, when done that way, you get wet numerous times, so I often wear sandals to hike in. I equated therefore, that I could hike down with a full pack with little trouble. Boy was I wrong.

The four of us left the ATV trail along the top of the ridge and quickly descended to McCumber Brook where we snacked and applied copious amounts of bug spray. Here the trail looked okay, but it quickly became so steep that some generous and thoughtful climbers had placed ropes to aid the descent deeper into the canyon. This trail was simply a track made by various types of wildlife and used time to time by humans. It was narrow and often obstructed or falling away down the slope towards the brook. The brook itself was a fast, sinewy, flow that churned around car sized boulders, before dropping off bedrock ledges landing in white foam. Dramatically a waterfall appears before us and to the left is a large rock face that hems the waterfall in. A truly wild scene seldom found here on the east coast, but would be comparable to the dramatic mountain valleys of the Rockies. It is heavenly and so spectacular that the provincial government has set the area side as a “Natural Protect Area.”



We move slowly down the canyon taking in the vastness of this small piece of nature, but more slowly due to the difficult terrain. We enter the Walton Glenn amphitheater where Walton Glenn Falls drops close to 100m on your right while on your left McCumber Brook cascades steeply into a pool where the two brooks join. All around there are shear conglomerate rock faces reaching 100m towards the clouds and in places it seems as if it wants to fall in on you and keep you there. Further down the Walton Glenn Brook you enter a narrow canyon known locally as “The Eye of the Needle.” The entire bottom of the canyon is wet with the brook and is only about 10m wide at its widest point. The walls of the canyon reach heights of around 35m and the sun rarely reaches the canyon floor.

The water is now clear and more settled, but it is bitter cold on the feet. The hike has leveled out some and we soon reach the larger Little Salmon River. We will cross this River 8 times before reaching the campsite near the head of tide. The valley walls of the Little Salmon River are an immense, deep, forested green. Like most hillsides along this stretch of Fundy coast they are rugged and steep and thus it is easier to walk down the river rather than climb up the hillsides. Since I enjoy and work on the rivers, I was always looking for fish, especially salmon since the population for both Brook Trout and Atlantic Salmon, are critically low in most of the rivers we will navigate throughout our hike. It is therefore a good thing that this river valley too, is part of the “Natural Protect Areas.”

None too soon, we reach our campsite. Everyone has their aches and pains and we all flop on the ground with a sigh. Again though, our bodies show resilience as we all get foolish and take a swim in the deep pool close to our campsites. Laughter erupts as we realize how foolish we are but we are all feeling very much alive and the aches and pains for the time being have disappeared. We laugh as we put up our tents and cook supper.

That night the campfire was oddly quiet with little conversation. Our tired bodies and minds were still trying to comprehend the raw beauty of the natural surroundings we witnessed today. There was no need to talk and we had no energy to do so anyway. It was fitting that the day would end with a wonderful moon reflecting off the water in the estuary as the tide moved in.


PART FOUR

Mornings on the FFP are an exercise in determination. To backpack the Footpath you can usually count on having a steep hill to climb first thing in the morning. The toughest of those is the hill you face when you leave Little Salmon River heading to Rapidy Brook. There are quite possibly as many switchbacks on this one hill, than one you might face on any other complete day. You can continually greet your companions as they pass on the switchback below or above you as you all move along like a train moving up a mountain side.

The entire portion we planned to hike that morning is likely the longest, gruelling, section of the trail. That morning we climbed in and out of 4 steep stream valleys. Rapidy Brook is a small stream where you cross above a narrow waterfall and gorge approximately 100m above sea level. You enter Wolfe Brook where a small waterfall enters the valley, and then you walk by the old dam site, before walking out to the shoreline. Hunter Brook is a small stream with big boulders that are carpeted with lush green moss. The last plunge is into Telegraph Brook where a waterfall crashes down less than 50meters from where the waves crash onto the shore. Even though this is a tough section of trail it hardly registers with the body because the mind is overwhelmed with the beauty and immensity of the Fundy coast.






From Telegraph Brook the Footpath heads up hill towards a crossing of Quiddy River. When the tide is right though, you can choose to walk the beach from Telegraph Brook to Martin Head. Since we had hiked hard the day before, and that morning, we decided we would wait on the tide awhile and walk the beach not just to Martin Head but all the way to Goose Creek. The best thing about that choice was that we were able to goof around and relax on the cobble shore of Telegraph Brook. We threw a lot of stones at various targets; we climbed various rock faces and boulders; we argued about landforms and geology; and we kicked around a stray buoy we nicknamed Herman.





Eventually, the tide receded far enough that we could comfortably hike along the shore to Martin Head. We ambled along the shoreline as the sun shone bright and warm on our right shoulder. The geology changes, and a small outcrop of beige sandstone, seemed out of place. The rocks and boulders rolled and clacked under our feet as we made the climb up over the isthmus. From the bottom of the isthmus I can’t see the Quiddy River and it is a short, steep climb up the rocky shore where you take two steps forward and one step back. The Quiddy River is a swift, cold, running river with a mud and gravel bottom. The beach on the other side of the river is a long, wide, sandy expanse used by many outdoor enthusiasts with various interests. On most weekends there are lots of people running bikes or trucks up and down the beach but on this weekend there are only a couple of trucks and bikes on the beach. We give them their space and they respect ours, not because we don’t like one another, but simply because we don’t want to intrude on each others wilderness escape.




We reached the far end of the Martin Head Beach and here we had to rock hop and scramble over large boulders in order to make Goose Creek campsite. I always enjoy this part of the hike even though it is very risky. One wrong step could leave you with a concussion, a broken leg, or even worse. The rocks are often times wet and slippery so caution, patience, and awareness are needed. We make Brandi Brook in good time and I take a minute to take a picture of the waterfall that comes down right onto the crashing waves at high tide. Then we make the long beach of Goose Greek where we will camp that night. The beach leads up to the boulders above tide and we have fun playing in the sand as we sink a couple of inches with each step.

The day was a very playful one on the Fundy Footpath and we had an incredibly relaxing day. This is especially true compared to the challenging day we had the day before. The atmosphere around supper and the evening campfire was relaxed and our bodies were starting to really settle into the rigorous routine of backpacking. This always seems to be the way on a four day trip. The day your ready to head home is the day when you are most comfortable on the trail. PART FIVE

The start of our last day on the trail required that we walk across the expansive mud flats of the Goose Creek estuary. This is a sticky, muddy, wet, and often cold crossing. The best time to cross Goose Creek is at near low tide as this will allow you to stay somewhat drier. If the tide is higher you must hike upstream and cross near the head of tide. This adds approximately a full kilometer to your hike. We were fortunate that morning as the tide was just starting back in. This was great here, but later, at Goose River, we were required to make a difficult bushwhack over two steep, large hills, as the tide was not in our favor there.

Once across the mudflats we climbed up the south facing ridge of Goose Creek. This area was boggy in places but the forest was interesting with large moss beds, colorful flowers, and large forest meadows that provided great lookouts to the Bay. The weather was warm and sunny so the hike was enjoyable. We relaxed a bit at Jim Brook, where if you needed to you could pitch a tent and have a nice inland camp site. From Jim Brook the next river valley was Rose Brook.

At Rose Brook we again took a breather and explored the beach a bit before heading on. The topography north of Rose Brook is impressive as there are many sink holes and rock outcrops to explore although we had to be careful as some of the holes could have been unstable. We walked along forested meadows and near Edwin’s Peak where we were offered a great view back down the Fundy Coast to Martin Head and beyond. It was hard to believe as we looked back over the land that we had hiked that in simply four days we had come so far.



The last climb before we entered Fundy National Park was the climb into Goose River. It is a modest descent where you tend to follow an old cart road. The road symbolizes the history of the area and its connection to logging and maybe even farming. Our legs were well stretched now and our pace had become faster and we made good time getting to Goose River. Unfortunately because of the timing of the tide there was no way we would have made the hike in sufficient time to allow us to walk the mudflats here into the park. Instead we crossed the river above the dam and hiked up and over a steep but short hill into Rossiter Brook. This still left us on the Goose River estuary with no way to cross to the trail and so again we had to navigate up a steeper more challenging hill to meet the Goose River Trail of Fundy National Park. I used the GPS I was carrying and made both bushwhacks with little trouble, well except for the fact we had to make very difficult climbs out of each valley.

Our last meal of the trip was had sitting on the wood pile chatting to some Park staff who, had come to check the sites after the weekend. Once lunch was completed we started the last 7.5km hike out to the parking lot at Pointe Wolfe. I always find this old road walk a bit anti-climactic for such a wonderful hike. It seems that I always rush through this portion of the trail as there is little to see and this time was no different. It is funny though, as much as I consider myself an avid outdoorsmen who could likely survive for weeks alone in the wilderness, I always smile when I see the parking lot, It could be the thought of the famous sticky buns in Alma, or a tall ice cream cone, but whatever it is I always giggle when I reach the curbed, paved, non-wilderness area. It is ironic and sometimes I feel guilty about this appreciation of the man made comforts that are so intrusive to the wilderness I often try to seek out.

We were able to spend four days in relative wilderness but each of us is concerned that it maybe the last time we can complete that hike and attain that feeling. The Fundy Trail Parkway, forestry practices, and increased development of ATV trails will likely change this wonderful coast line and remove that surreal sense of wilderness. Regardless, the immense beauty, ruggedness, and the heavenly feeling I get when there, will call me back many more times I am sure and I hope to someday share a backpacking trip with my kids across this great coast line.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Covered Bridges


Well this is the week for the Kings County Covered Bridge Festival so I feel compelled to write a blog about covered bridges. In fact I think it about time that I wrote a blog about covered bridges. For me a covered bridge is a starting point, a swimming hole, a meeting location, a prominent landmark, and a vital part of our heritage. As someone who enjoys being on the rivers I often see numerous covered bridges. Many canoe trips have started or ended at a covered bridge. This is likely because the bridges, for many decades now, have served as an access point to the rivers. The covered bridges bring together two of the oldest modes of transportation, canoe and horse carriage which speaks volumes about the history of many of the covered bridges today and their importance in the development of the communities around them.



I have swam, many times, from the shores of a covered bridge and admired the wood work from the water side while swimming. Geocaches are often found at covered bridge locations as they find them intriguing and fellow cachers like tagging covered bridge finds. Photographers and painters are seen frequently with equipment trying to capture the true essence of the covered bridge. The bridges could be considered a free museum, located where they always have been, across the rivers and in our hearts.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

The latest Wandering column

For those who don't get the Kings County Record, here is my latest published column. It is very similar to a post I made earlier. It is Part Two of my Fundy Footpath adventure . I find the column a bit harder to write and get my true feelings acrossed due to the word limt but I like the challenge of editing the work down while trying not to lose the feeling of the message.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Home Renos

About three years ago my wife and I bought an aging home. It had curb appeal, charm, and a nice price tag. I knew it was going to need some work and almost immediately we started in on getting some of the easy stuff done. We painted most of the walls, replaced the front door, painted the exterior, and even replaced the gable ends. I feel proud of the work I have done so far, but wait. This weekend I tore up the carpet in the living and dining rooms to install laminate. Sometime this summer we have to put a new roof on, and likely next summer repaint or reside the house. So when does all this stop? agggghhhhhhhh. Luckily, I was crazy before we bought the house. I knew a house was work and thankfully I do enjoy the smaller tasks, but the bigger tasks often intimidate me and thus I am left at the mercy of the contractors. Thankfully I have some good contacts with contractors and I trust them to get the job done...but they are a busy bunch and so...I now wait and hope that I can get all this done before our second child comes.

If you have a home reno project on the go I wish you luck with it. I will likely post some of this anguish again and maybe even show some before and after pics but for now I will simply ramble on.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Weather, Fish, and Dreams


The weather lately has been pretty crappy. It has not been what you might class as summer sunshine for sure. That has not kept me off the brooks, rivers, and creeks though. I have had a couple of good days out this week, including last evening. The fish last evening is what inspired me to write this morning. Usually when I write about a fishing trip it is about the fish but this time it is about what was in the air.


Yesterday was a gray day, like most days lately. It was still gray after supper, but my experience has found that, usually, the fishing is good on days like that. As luck would have it the fish were lively, and plentiful, though not very large, last night. This made the fishing fun, what made it difficult was the low lying fog or mist that seemed to encompass everything. I couldn't see where to place my feet as I scrambled downstream. I almost felt like I was fishing on a cloud. It created a really nice aura though and after awhile I got used to looking through it to the water and I began to enjoy the mist. It gave the brook I have fished dozens of times a new personality and I could convince myself easily that I had never fished there before.


As the sun set and I broke down my pole I didn't really want to leave the brook. I wandered aimlessly down the stream towards my waiting truck with my head literally and figuratively in the clouds. It was a great way to end a busy work day.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Fundy Footpath Continues

PART TWO

None of us really knows what lay ahead of us. We hope Mother Nature looks kindly on us and provides us with ample sunshine. We hope the tides (http://www.bayoffundytourism.com/tides/times/) roll gently and that we can time our trip efficiently around them. Hopefully, with fingers crossed, no one stumbles or falls and injures themselves.

A backpacking trip across the Fundy Footpath is not to be taken lightly and we are all well aware of that fact. None of us are adventure racers and we are planning on taking our time to hike across this rugged, carved, forested, coastal, trail. It will take us four days to hike the 50km linear trail that runs from Big Salmon River through to Point Wolfe, approximately 7.5km inside the Fundy National Park boundary. We plan on doing some extra exploring up some of the dozen or so river valleys when tide, time, and our bodies permit.

Our first night destination is Seeley Beach and the anticipation of getting there and the excitement of just getting out on the trail had us all hiking a modestly brisk pace at first. Shortly, we were stopping to shed a layer of clothing and to take in the scenery. Many times the Bay of Fundy appeared before us as the trees gave way to sheer cliffs. Every time the scene was inspiring, mind clearing, and entirely rewarding. Whether we were standing on the edge of the rock outcrop looking towards Quaco Lighthouse, or we stood at Tuft’s Point looking over Long Beach. We stood silently every time until we took it all in. Then we would stumble over words trying to describe the scene and our feelings to each other. Eventually we would result to corny humor and simply let the scene speak for itself.

The morning moves on rather quickly and as we move along the coast we hear the roar of an excavator on the top of the ridge. While the sound was disturbing the sight of a large cut line that paralleled the trail for quite some distance was downright frustrating. We all made a pact to not let it ruin our weekend though. I think this was much harder for me however than the others.

We reached Long Beach before noon and settled on the beach for a relaxing break. The sun was starting to break through the fog and we enjoyed a good lunch. The tide was almost at high tide and this is a great area to simply sit and watch the waves. The different layers of sand and gravel create wild, unpredictable, wave lines that are hard to predict but it is fun trying. It is hard to simply pick up and leave the beach because it is so serene, so surreal. I have yet to camp at this beach and someday soon I hope to. As we start the hike out of Long Beach we again are disappointed to see a cut line for what we assume will be a look out for the Fundy Trail Parkway. If I want to tent here I will likely have to compete with day users and car campers, despite this, I think it would still be a great spot to spend an evening watching the waves from my tent door.

The section of trail between Big Salmon River and Seeley Beach is a great warm up for the remainder of the Fundy Footpath. From Long Beach to Seeley Beach is a walk through rock outcrops and interesting geology, including a place I call “Football Rock” as the large, somewhat oval shaped rock seems to be teed up for a kick off. I always use this rock as the homestretch indicator for the hike into Seeley Beach and before I know it I am descending onto the expansive boulder and cobblestone beach.

I truly love this place and if I had to make a life from the wilderness this is where I would choose to do so. With the Bay of Fundy at my door and rugged wilderness as my backdrop, how could I ask for more? Well, I suppose I could ask the good Lord to restore the fish populations but that would just be greedy.

Since it is still early in the afternoon I leave the group at Seeley Beach and explore Seeley Brook. I rock hop close to 2km up the small stream as the sun beats down and glistens off the water. The large boulders seem like numerous empty chairs in a theater and I decide to sit and watch for awhile as small trout scurry up the clear stream. The warmth on the rock is soothing to my tired muscles and I find it hard to believe that such a hard surface can feel so good.

It is closing on supper time and since I am cooking I have to head back to camp. When I get there 2 of my 3 hiking buddies are sleeping on the beach. They look like they had hardly moved from when I left them. We all decide to move up to the northern end of the beach to camp for the night. The tenting is better there, but you have to go further for water. I have brought frozen trout, which my father and I had caught a week or so earlier, for supper. I fry these over an open flame and compliment them with instant potatoes and some vegetables. It was a feast fit for a king and we all sat around the fire content and happy that night. The conversation was relaxed as the fire crackled and the waves crashed less than 20m away. We discussed future trips and the future of the Fundy Footpath. We talked about family and friendship. We bonded.

Friday, June 19, 2009

A Family getaway

I sit outside chalet number 21 (http://www.fundyhighlandchalets.com/) looking down the hill towards the Bay of Fundy. Across the Bay I can see Cape Chignecto (http://www.novascotiaparks.ca/parks/capechignecto.asp) and its massive red rock cliff line. Much closer I can see a gleaming birch tree as the sun is reflecting off its white bark just right to make it seem almost angelic. To my left and down the hill away I can hear children and adults laughing. The clink clank of a washer game going on is to my right further down the hill. All around me birds are chirping but mainly the white throated sparrow as it calls out “Cheeeezeeburger, burger, burger, burger. With all this distraction I still think I can even hear the white, fluffy topped, clouds moving. It is one of those moments where you feel like you stepped back in time.

The cozy chalets are old looking, yet well maintained. The camaraderie I hear, seldom exists in local neighborhoods anymore. So what is it about Fundy National Park (http://www.pc.gc.ca/pn-np/nb/fundy/index_e.asp) that takes me back in time? I think, for me, it is because when I am here I tend to slow the pace down. I no longer feel the need to rush through things. Even as I golfed an horrendous 18holes of golf today I felt as if I was moving in slow motion.

I admit this is not my usual style of vacation, but now with a family, I find that these gatherings are just as much a step back in time as my backpacking trips. Maybe it is because they take me back to when I was a kid and we always got together with Aunts, Uncles, cousins, and grand parents, and everyone shared in games and lots of laughter. Being so close to Fundy National Park just provides us with the idyllic setting for all these memories to be formed.

We played with the kids at the big playground near the golf course earlier tonight and every kid there had a big smile on their face, even when they fell hard into the sand, off the zip line, they came up smiling. Every adult acknowledge one another and had no issues or worries in their eyes and laughed easier as their child did or said something funny. In reality I think I was watching my life take another step towards fulfillment, a step towards what I always wanted, a step towards being more like my parents. This filled me with a sense of pride and so maybe it wasn’t everyone else. Maybe it was just that I was in one of those moods where nothing could ruin it, not even the sand in my sandals as I pushed my son across the zip line for the 59th time.

Earlier in the day my wife, son, and I made time just for us and spent it exploring Cannontown Beach. The tide was nearly in and so it made for a great lesson for my son on how the tide moves in and out. He screeched with laughter as the cold Bay of Fundy Waters swept up over his toes while my wife and I laughed at him. We both wished we could be so easily entertained.

Earlier still, my son and I, along with my brother-in-law and his daughter, went for a canoe trip on Bennett Lake. It was another lesson in nature for Seth. The two kids showed great patients as their fathers paddled clumsily over the water. They each took turns paddling and splashing the water. There were loons, ducks, beavers, tadpoles, and some fish and the kids took it all in with big smiles.

Needless to say, everyone slept great at the end of the day. I hope your family gets a chance to get away this summer. Enjoy.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The latest lobster adventure

Here is the follow up column I did for the Kings County Record on Lobster Fishing.

Enjoy

http://kingscorecord.canadaeast.com/onyourmark/article/700227

Friday, June 12, 2009

2009 Fundy Footpath - Part One

It started with a simple question from my Dad. He asked “So when are we going to hike the Fundy Footpath again?” It led to a conversation that had us looking at a weekend early in June. It ended with four family members all heading to the Big Salmon River along New Brunswick’s Fundy Coast, near St. Martins (http://www.stmartinscanada.com/). As often is the case with these types of trips it came together rather smoothly, at least until we went grocery shopping.

Four men in an Atlantic Superstore (http://www.superstore.ca/east/) where they have no idea where anything is can lead to confusion and frustration. It was comical if you were someone else in the store watching us bicker over what kind of cereal or peanut butter to take. You would have thought we were all nuts if you had witnessed us fight over who and how we were going to pay for the $145 worth of groceries. All in all though, the humor and good hearted ribbing started the family bonding off on a very well.

I volunteered to sort the food into manageable and closely equal weight loads that night in preparation for our departure in two days time. It was promising to be a great trip as the weather man from Environment Canada was calling for four days of straight sunshine with only a 40% chance of showers forecast for our third day. We all could live with those odds and everyone was accounted for as we headed down Route 111 towards St. Martins.

As we approach the gates of the Fundy Trail Parkway ( the debate starts over the expansion of this tourism gem. Will it pay for itself or will it become a burden on the tax payers of New Brunswick? How will it affect the wilderness experience we are hoping to attain along the Fundy Footpath? Can we charm our way into the Parkway without having to pay a fee? The lady at the ticket gate was gracious enough not to charge a vehicle pass or a park pass for the driver, but the four backpackers had to pay the fee. At one time it was stated there would never be a fee for the public to enjoy this park. That was a short lived promise. It does not bother me having to pay to enjoy the wilderness but I want it to be just that “wilderness.” Time will tell whether the Fundy Trail Parkway will produce the economic boom the government is predicting. For the sake of the destroyed wilderness and diverse coastal ecosystems, and that of the tax payers I hope they are right.

We say our goodbyes and thanks to my mother who graciously volunteered to drive her two sons, her son-in-law, and her husband to the trail head. We check in at the interpretation center and do, one final gear check. Finally we are off as we walk down the hill toward the new bridge spanning the Big Salmon River. The Fundy fog is moderately thick but that is common in this area. The fog masks the roadway as it heads up over the hill on the northeast side of the Big Salmon River. We cross over the old suspension bridge and head down river toward the Bay and towards the true wilderness.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Love my job


I love my job. A great deal of people say this but do they really mean it? Well when I say it, I mean it. My job is diverse. I can work inside prepping proposals and maps one day and the next be outside taking stream measurements or water samples. I can be in an urban setting or a wilderness setting all within an hour. Being the outdoorzy (http://www.outdoorzy.com/) type though I really like the work I do outside. I live in a rural setting with some beautiful, old, farm land and I have come to appreciate the look of some of these farms.

I was doing some stream habitat assessment work recently on a farm near Pleasant Ridge and man was it beautiful. As the name suggests it was ridge country and the view from the top was astounding. I could see for miles for 270degrees. Farmland and forest with the odd road here and there dotted by houses and church steeples. The weather was sunny and boy did I love my job.

The small stream we were assessing was no wider than a meter but small fish darted constantly from rock cover to tree cover and back again. We worked away measuring the width, depth, and conditions while the changing scenery took our attention from time to time. The job allows me to see wildlife such as the porcupine we saw in a nearby spruce tree or gophers scampering back to their burrows, deer darting into the nearby alder thicket, frogs leaping under sunken logs, or unknown beetles munching on leaves. All the time there is something new and yet there is the stability of having a purpose to be there too. Anyone know what kind of beetle these are by the way???

It is truly amazing how the old farms still maintain their charm in todays modernization trend. Some farmers hold on to the old way of doing things and this makes them even more charming. The old rock piles piled in the middle of a field just provide the scene with a touch of character that would be lacking without their presence.

The shining birch bark from a rounded wood pile next to the tree line adds just the right contrast to the sharp lines of the field and trees. The farm scene is one that not only deserves respect but almost politely begs for it. The best part about it all is that I get to work in that type of scenery on a regular basis and it makes for great pics and blog material :)

Most farmers appear gruff and tough on the outside, and for the most part, that is true, but they also are welcoming and willing to talk about their land. They are often very proud of what they have accomplished and who can blame them. It is no easy task making a living off the land, tending to stock 24hours a day, seven days a week. But like me, I bet most farmers do not work because it is easy, or because they are going to be rich but rather they do it because they love their job.

There must be a good country song in there somewhere :)