Up North 2005 Day 10 >

Day 9 - First Hike in the Bruce

Sunday, September 11th

Note Although this was the anniversary of the 2001 September 11th bombings in New York, all of that seemed remote to us on this rural peninsula. It also had only been one week since Hurricane Katrina had struck the Gulf Coast, wreaking havoc in New Orleans. In general, we were not even aware of the goings on in the United States while we were in Canada. It was a relief not to hear the daily news of calamity, war, and politics. I could easily imagine living in Canada and not particularly caring what happened to the U.S.

A Better Morning

I had some trouble sleeping in the morning. I reached over to touch Ian for comfort. He reached back and I fell asleep again. But as he moved to get out of bed I pulled him back so I be with him for a little while before we got up. I felt none of the doubt or morose mood from the night before. Ian seemed to feel better, although I didn't know exactly what he was thinking. We ate breakfast out at the diner in Tobermory. We'd eaten there every other time we'd visited the Bruce Peninsula.

Planning

I wanted to begin planning for today and for the week. Ian's two desires were to sit and read back at the cottage for awhile, and to go to Dorcas Bay at some point. I was gung ho to get on the trail and wanted to go backpacking again. By the time we had returned to the cottage, however, I'd decided not to rush off to the trail without him in order to spend time together at the cottage. There were things I could do; I had a book and my trip log to write in; I could plan my overnight.

I pulled out maps of the Bruce so we could look at them together. The day trail map was two-sided and listed many hikes. It described each hike in detail and rated each hike as either easy, moderate, strenuous, or in one rare case, double-strenuous. Then I moved onto other things as Ian continued looking at the map. He pointed out a few hikes he thought would be fun.

Since he had said he wanted to relax at the cottage for awhile, I asked him whether there were any short hikes we could take in the afternoon. He had seen one he liked. When I asked him whether he'd like to go later, say, around 3:00 p.m., he completely surprised me by saying "How about now?" Just as I'd convinced myself to relax, he changed his mind and wanted to go hiking! How could I say no?

Halfway Dump

The trail Ian had selected began at the "Halfway Dump Access" and continued on to parts of the trail we'd hiked during previous visits. The trail was rated as strenuous. If we stopped at the "Head of Trails Access", the hike would have been 6 km. However, we would turn around at some point and return to the Halfway Dump Access.

The description of the trail reads as follows:

This beautifully rugged piece of Trail travels along cliff edge and pebble beach. From Cave Point to Halfway Rock Point (landmark names from the lake-based logging days), the views are considered among the best that the Bruce Trail has to offer.... The Trail passes Storm Haven Campsite operated by the National Park.

This meant that the Storm Haven Campsite was one of the few back-country sites in the area. It would be a possibility for an overnight trip. We reached the trail at 1:45 p.m. This trail was similar to the most rugged parts of trails we had been on in prior years. The rocks are rough, pitted limestone rather than smooth granite, as they are at Lake Superior.

I made heavy use of my trekking poles. My knees felt weak already. Ian was impressed at how useful the poles appeared to be. As the map had said, the views were spectacular. But we had come to expect spectacular views on the Bruce Trail. It was just that kind of place. We conversed for most of the hike.

Because of the rugged terrain, it took us awhile to reach the Storm Haven Campsite, probably about 5 km into the hike. There was an information board, which informed us that there was a bear in the area. It also noted that another interior campsite, High Dump, was closed due to bear activity.

We later learned from a park employee that careless hikers and campers had left garbage lying around, which had attracted the problem bear. At the same time we met the park's carpenter, who was drawing up a schematic for a new bear bag rig design. He joked that if it were up to him, he'd just dangle a jelly donut further and further off the cliff to tempt the bear to its fate.

Exploring the Campsites

Thinking that I might backpack in this area, I explored the eight Storm Haven campsites. From the escarpment we climbed a series of steep staircases down to the rocky beach. On the way, we inspected the toilet, which turned out to be a composting toilet. I was impressed. There were three sites down on the beach. Each was a wooden platform; the terrain was far too rugged for tents, unless one camped out on the flat rock, as one man had done.

I explored the area, trying to keep as far from the man's tent as I could, out of respect. He clearly did not want company. I noticed that there were a few biting flies in the area. I wasn't sure how it would be to camp down here, given the presence of such pests. We climbed back up to the top of the escarpment, where I explored the other five sites. They were also wooden platforms set back among the trees.

There was a pre-constructed bear-bag rig. A thick wire was strung between two large wooden poles. There were several pulley systems for hanging the bags. The wooden poles were wrapped with slick, shiny metal to keep the bears from climbing. This seemed pretty civilized for back-country camping. However, there just weren't very many back-country sites along the Bruce Trail, as I later discovered when I was planning my backpacking trip.

Suffering Knees

It was getting later and my knees were sore, so we turned around at Stone Haven Campground. The rugged terrain, with its constant but short ascents and descents, were taking its toll. Although this was a relatively short hike (probably 10 km, or 6.2 miles total), I felt that it was all I could have done today. I also noticed that because the footing was so treacherous, I did not take in the scenery as much as I might have done.

Nevertheless I had the impression that we were in a very pretty area. When we weren't looking over the Georgian Bay, we were slightly inland inside a very inviting, lush forest. The trees were mostly cedar and birch. The earth was rich and dark, and springy in places. Our lively conversation helped to keep my mind off of my sore knees. I was relieved when we reached the car.

I had not expected to be so sore, given that I'd had an entire day to rest after my backpacking trip. We had been out for five or six hours, including the leisurely time we spent exploring Stone Haven Campground. I was still learning what my knees could and could not take. I would continue to learn throughout our entire stay in the Bruce. In the end I would understand that I tended to ask too much of my fragile knees.

Cottage Living

Back at the cottage I set up kindling and logs for a campfire while Ian washed the dishes. He had kindly offered to wash, since I had cooked breakfast. Our cottage had no fire pit, but the one next door did. A note from our landlord encouraged us to use the fire pit, dock, and canoe from the next cottage. Apparently the landlord owned both cottages. The other cottage was considerably nicer than ours, including a beautiful dock and a manicured lawn.

I cooked dinner while Ian read. Dinner in the cottage was pleasant. My feelings of disappointment in the cottage had faded, and it was beginning to feel like home. I found several candles in a cupboard, so I lit them up and turned off the kitchen lights to create a more cozy, intimate atmosphere. We relaxed over our meal, enjoying the candle light and the relative ease that comes with cottage living.

After dinner I got the campfire going. I had a little trouble, though. The fire pit here wasn't nearly as well-designed as the fire pits at Lake Superior. Those fire pits were surrounded by a heavy metal ring, pierced at intervals with half-dollar-sized holes for ventilation. At Superior, the lake breeze would sweep up over the beach and through these holes, keeping a campfire blazing.

By the time Ian joined me at the campfire, it was burning nicely. Later, he told me that he couldn't have stayed outside so long if the fire hadn't been there to keep him warm. I wrote in my trip log while Ian read. I had not been reading much. At Superior, when I had free time I had written in my trip log or learned about and planned for backpacking. Earlier in the trip I had read more. Now, writing in the trip log felt kind of like a chore, but I wanted to capture the trip and what Ian and I had been through.

I took breaks every so often to see whether the moon was setting, but it was not. I did not understand why the moon had set up at Lake Superior two nights before, but did not set now. Ian later explained that the setting of the moon was not as regular as the setting of the sun; they were two different types of cosmic events.

Finally I finished writing in the trip log and rewarded myself with some reading. When it was time to go inside, I bailed water out of the lake to douse the fire. We both read some more inside the cottage. I slept well to the sounds of lapping waves.