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CANADA photos by
Peter Wilson
JULY 2011
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CAPE ST. LAWRENCE WALK -
CAPE BRETON ISLAND by Peter Wilson
In July 2011 our Canadian holiday included a six-day guided walking tour on Cape Breton Island in the Province of Nova Scotia. The island, located at the northern end of Nova Scotia, offers a blend of rocky coastline, long sandy beaches, mountains, valleys, rivers and lakes. The party was just the three of us, Joan Kenny, Shirley and me led by our guide Pete, a Cape Breton local.
Our tour was based in large part around walking tracks accessible from the Cabot Trail, the road that winds for nearly 300 km through the highlands and plateaus of Cape Breton and is considered one of the most beautiful scenic drives in the world. The trail is named after Anglo-Italian explorer John Cabot, who landed in North America on June 24, 1497.
Cape St Lawrence is the northern tip of the island and overlooks the meeting place of the North Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of St Lawrence, the world's largest estuary and the outlet of North America's Great Lakes via the Saint Lawrence River.
Land based access to the Cape is via a walking trail from Meat Cove, the northern most village on the island. From the village the trail climbs steeply for the first kilometre then steadily for another kilometre through a forest of conifers and deciduous trees until it rounds the shoulder of Bear Hill where there is a view to the Cape. From that point it was another three kilometres, mostly a gradual downhill, to the Cape.
For the last kilometre or so we emerged from the forest into open grassland, no doubt because of the salt laden winds that pound the area and prevent any trees gaining a hold. The weather on the day of our walk was good but there was still a keen wind that caused us to huddle in the shelter of the remains of a wall of an abandoned building so we could eat lunch in comfort.
Cape St Lawrence was the site of several lighthouses but all that remains are the old foundations, some rusting equipment, and an automated light; although on the day of our walk the automated light was lying on its side looking anything but automated. It is said that on a clear day you can look northeast from the Cape to St Paul Island, the northern-most landmass in Nova Scotia but, while we had good weather, the island was not showing itself.
Having taken in the coastal vistas as well as lunch it was “packs up” for the return walk to Meat Cove, making a round trip of about 10 km. Before going back to our accommodation for the night we took a side trip to the Cabot Landing Provincial Park, the approximate landfall of explorer John Cabot in 1497, and walked for about an hour on a long, foggy, stretch of beach between the North Atlantic Ocean on one side and an estuary on the other.
This day was one of six on Cape Breton Island, a place of varied and beautiful walks through river valleys, glorious forests, rugged coasts and sandy beaches; of brilliant sunshine, humid rain and sea fogs that roll in to soften the endless headlands along the coast. We are indebted to our guide, Pete of Freewheeling Adventures, for sharing his island with us.
A WALK IN THE ROCKIES - THE ICELINE TRAIL
by Joan Kenny
In July this year Shirley and Peter Wilson and I spent five days hiking in the Canadian Rocky Mountains with a local company, Yamnuska Mountain Adventures (www.yamnuska.com). Our leader was Tamara, a most accomplished and helpful guide, who collected our group of seven hikers (five from Melbourne, two from Toronto) from our comfortable hotels each morning and drove us to the trailhead of the day’s walk. We hiked in four National Parks (Banff, Jasper, Kootenay and Yoho).
Our walk on day four was the Iceline Trail in Yoho National Park. Accompanying our party that day was Adam, a professional photographer who was making a promotional video for Yamnuska. At the Iceline Trailhead a notice advised that the area was fermé (closed) because of recent aggressive behaviour of black bears, however Tamara’s husband, a park ranger, had assured her that this was no longer the case. So when Tamara ripped the warning from the noticeboard we hoped that her information was correct.
The Iceline Trail starts across the valley from the Takakkawa Falls which are fed from a glacier, and with a vertical drop of 380 metres they are the highest in the Canadian Rockies; the name means ‘magnificent’ in the Cree First Nation’s language. The trail climbs relentlessly via switchbacks through the evergreen forest, with masses of yellow glacier lilies along the track. The thunderous sound of the waterfall across the valley accompanied us as we climbed higher and higher.
Before we emerged from the forest we encountered patches of snow on the track from avalanches from the Emerald Glacier above us. Then, above the treeline, the track traversed rocky glacial moraines (debris left by glaciers) and large patches of snow, past giant boulders. Adam’s photos show our little party trekking upwards across moraine deposits and dazzling snow under an immense cobalt blue sky. By now we could look across the valley to the top of the Takakkawa Falls and the Icefield above it, stretching to the horizon in all directions.
The sound of distant avalanches from the Emerald Glacier high above our trail led Tamara to decide on an early lunch on a rocky outcrop amidst the snow. Although we had not reached the highest point of the trail we had gained about 680 metres elevation, and I was quite content to turn back. The snow was softer on our return and I made a few falls and slides in the snow, but, thankfully, all limbs remained intact. In places we could hear the trickle of melting water beneath the snow. Tamara pointed out patches of ‘watermelon snow’, long pink streaks caused by a living organism, snow algae.
Our descent took two hours. Eventually we reached the base of the waterfall, where the carpark was crowded with tourists and recreation vehicles. We had descended from a privileged experience of solitude and a grandstand view of the Canadian Rocky Mountains, with its spectacular landscape of extensive icefields, mountain peaks, glaciers, the waterfall and, far below us in the valley, the forest, all under a brilliant blue sky. Fortunately we had seen no trace of black or grizzly bears. But from the safety of our vehicle the next morning we did see a juvenile grizzly on the edge of the forest as Tamara drove us to our last walk in the Rockies.
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