“Beep!” “Beep!” “Beep!” “Murph,” I responded to the alarm clock. “Common Polo, let’s go watch the sunrise.” It had been 6 hours since we had gotten to our “camp” in the bathroom of Long Beach. Let me just say here that I am not a morning person. The idea of waking up at 6:30 am sounded lovely in my mind when it was proposed the night previously, but now in the harsh morning light, I didn’t want to get out of the sleeping bag. Marco promised a beautiful sunrise, so I got out of my warm oasis and threw on a sweater. I have to say that the morning trek out of the sleeping bag was worth it. The sky was painted with a beautiful pastel palette; blues, pinks, purples, and yellows lit up the sky. Marco slipped his arms around me, warming me up, while we watched the colours warm up the whole sky. After a little while of watching the sunrise we headed back to bed for an extra hour of blissful sleep. Fast-forward, we ate our morning breakfast, said our last good-bye to modern plumbing, and got our packs securely on. We took one look at the footpath, with it’s ups and downs, and thought, nah, we can make it to the stairs a little further down the beach. We would take the beach route for this section of our hike. We knew that the tide was headed out and would be heading out for the next 4-5 hours. The sun was out in full force, and the day was warming up quickly. “Hey! Marco! Come look at this!” I shouted ahead to him. Marco walked back over. “Isn’t he just so...cute?!” I asked, a little too enthusiastically. We had happened upon a cute little crab. He was small, around 7 cm wide, and his shell was yellowish-green and orange. Marco went to poke him, gently, with a stick. The little crab scuttle along the beach, sideways, right behind my boot! At one point it looked like the crab was going to scuttle up my boot! I stepped away. Marco approached the crab and, again, he scuttled right behind my boot. It seemed that he sensed that I would protect him from the big scary man trying to poke him. After taking a few close-ups of this tiny, adorable, crab, we kept going along our path. We got to the stairs which we had originally come down on our test hike, and after a quick look back at the beach, we decided that we could just do a straight shot down to Seely Beach. Now, we’d heard of many hikers who would chance the beach route, being tired of the elevation change or just looking for a different way to go, and getting stuck out on the beach when the tides came in. There are no saving platforms along this stretch of beach, and it can be a dangerous situation to be stuck in. However, we had our tide guide handy. If you are thinking of walking along the beach at any point along the Bay of Fundy make sure that you have the tide schedule handy! With little difficulty, minus some wading in the water to avoid scrambling over big rocks, we got to Seely Beach. Ok, ok we’re back on the proper path now. The tide was starting to come back in, and in all fairness, we had planned on hiking the Fundy Footpath, not the beach. This was the real beginning of the footpath for us. Up, and down; down and up. The path never let up. Even when the path was a “gentle incline” or a “challenging incline”, it was a challenging hike to be had. “I…” “Need….” “A….” “Break…” I huffed, getting to the flat plane after another incline. “Sure,” Marco responded. We sat and while I was drinking some water and eating some granola bars, I noticed Marco looking around at the forest floor. I gave Marco a curious glance. He started to gather sticks. “Ta-da!” He proudly proclaimed. He had spelled his name out of sticks and a tree root. Soon we settle into our camping spot at Little Salmon River. This has to be one of my favourite camping sites in NB, so far. There are plenty of tenting spots, a beautiful view, a working bear box, and a thunderbox. What more could a girl ask for? Well, maybe some wild peas, but hey, you can’t get greedy. Oh wait! “Dinner?” I ask Marco? His stomach audibly grumbles in reply. We grab all of our cooking gear and decide to eat down by the water, out of most of the bugs. Tonight we are having instant mash potatoes, instant gravy, salami, and cheese. “Want to grab some peas while I filter water?” Marco asks. “Peas? We didn’t pack peas.” “Didn’t have to,” Marco points at a wild pea bush. PEAS! I greedily head over to the wild pea bush and grab as many peas off of the pea bush as I think the two of us can eat. I sat hulling peas as Marco made our dinner. All mixed together we had a camping version of a Shepherd's Pie. It was the most glorious dinner I’d had. Yum. We settled into our tent and went to sleep, knowing that the next day would be another challenging day. I had no idea how challenging as I slept soundly under the stars.
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“Honey I’m hoooo-,” “READY!?” I asked. “Wow, that’s a lot of stuff,” Marco responded, looking around at the mess that I had proudly made. I had carefully upended the camping bucket on the floor of the apartment and sorted the mess into smaller piles of mess. “I think this is everything we wanted?” I asked with a smile. Marco smiled at me. After another hour we had packed up our bags and our dinner eaten. The night before we had done the long drive (4 hours of driving!) to and from Fundy National Park; we dropped off one car at the end of the trail so that we could get back. The national park allowed us to register for the trail and park our car for the duration of our walk. They did not charge us anything as we had a park pass for the year (highly recommended if you’re a fellow outdoor enthusiast). There is a small fee for parking your vehicle otherwise. It was relatively painless, minus the driving to and from the park. It’s around a 2 hour drive between the two points, so it can be a bit of a long day to drop one car off. We looked into getting shuttles, but it seems that it was only worth if it you pack the shuttle (5-6 people), otherwise it was around $400 for us to take the shuttle. With our bags packed and ready, we headed off towards the Fundy Trails Park in St. Martin’s. We arrived at the gates an hour before they close (08:00 - 20:00, summer hours). We were registered for the path, our numbers were taken, an emergency contact provided, and our expected end date for the trail was recorded. We parked our car in P8 and prepared for getting on trail. The trail starts at the suspension bridge just behind the visitors’ centre/ interpretation centre. From there you have to keep an eye out for the white blazes around to follow. “This way?” I ask. “Nope,” Marco answered. Clearly I was not any good at finding these white blazes. Apparently I needed to get my trail eyes as well as my trail legs. Well, it’s a good thing that I had four days of practice ahead of me! Soon I started to remember the path that we had taken the weekend previously (see Fundy Test Hike). We walked along, picked more raspberries from the path, and finally found the camp site around 2 kms down the path. It was around 20:45 by the time that we set up camp. “Let’s set up the tent here?” I suggested. There was a beautiful view of the water, which would be nice to wake up to. We had decided to do the short hike because there was no way to access the trail before 08:00 otherwise. Once we had the tent set up the way we like and the sleeping bags/mats all set up, we started to look for a good bear hang for our food. Two people and four days worth of food equalled around 11.5 lbs of food. We also hang our cooking system and our hygiene kit - so it’s a pretty heavy bag. We took one look around at the trees, “Ummmmm…” Marco seemed to be in deep thought. “Er…..” I expressed. “Yeah…” Marco responded. The trees were all soft wood, with spindly arms, and very close together. In order to get a good bear hang you need a branch that is not close to anything else: other branches, the ground, etc. It was starting to get dark. We needed to find a bear hang, quickly. We thought we saw a good branch to throw the rope. Marco grabbed a rock, tied the rope around the rock, got a good swing, and threw the rope over the branch. Success! Wait, rope, no! No! Don’t keep swinging! Stop! Oh no! Now the rope was knotted around itself, around 15 feet off the ground. Huh. Well camping is always full of problem solving, right? After a moment of staring at the rope, trying to move it with our minds, Marco tried to climb the tree to try to grab the rock. However, this was not successful. We ended up having to use our hiking poles, extended as far that they would go, to get the rock to untangle itself. With a good 30 minutes wasted on trying to get the rope to work on that tree, we gave up. Time to look for a new tree. “Are you ok to stay here with the food?” Marco asked. “It’s heavy and it doesn’t make sense to drag it around the forest looking for a branch.” “Yup,” I responded while clicking on my head lamp. It was firmly night now. Marco walked off into the darkness, looking for a tree. All of a sudden, I was alone, in the woods, at night. The darkness started to press in, in the only way it can when you’re in the middle of the forest. The wide open forest, all of the sudden, closes in. Your mind starts to wander about all of the scary things that the forest holds: bears, trolls, moose, ghosts, etc. The forest has a way of worming into your mind and teasing out your worst fears. All of the sudden you’re vulnerable, and all of the things you’re scared of start to come alive. I start to sing an old camp song that still easily comes to my mind whenever I’m nervous. I wear my pink pyjamas in the summer when it’s hot I wear my flannel nighties in the winter when it’s not And sometimes in the springtime and sometimes in the fall I jump into my little bed with nothing on at all Oh that’s the time you ought to see me That’s the time you ought to see me That’s the time you ought to see me, when I jump into my little bed with nothing on at all Nosey, nosey what’s it to yeah? Nosey, nosey what’s it to yeah? Nosey, nosety what’s it to yeah? When I jump into my little bed with nothing on at all! Hey! I think us kids must have changed the lyrics at some point because when I google the actual lyrics, they’re a heck of a lot cleaner. For better or worse though, this is the song that gets stuck in my head when I’m nervous about anything. It’s super annoying and won’t leave my head for days. This was going to be a long hike. Marco must have heard my singing because he shouted out “EVERYTHING OK OVER THERE?” “YEAH!” I shouted back. He walked back and told me the bad news: there didn’t seem to be a good tree to hang our food on. We looked at each other (as much as you can with headlamps on) and a realisation passed between us: we were about to embark on a night hike. Marco and I had been jokingly saying that we were going to do a night hike tonight. Well, you ask and the universe provides, so here we go! We packed the tent back up. I said a good-bye to my bed, packed it all away, and we put our food back in our packs. We took out our hiking poles, to make sure that we weren’t going to slip on anything in the night, turned on our headlamps, and started off towards the next camp site on our map: Long Beach, another 4 kms away. “AH!” I screamed. “WHAT?!” Marco responded. “What is that?!” “What?” “That?” “Where?” “Over there!” “....the tree?” “The….oh. Yeah the tree.” Hiking during the night made all of the shadows look like animals of their own. I remembered a story that Marco was telling me about - a cougar was thought to be found in New Brunswick. There was a debate going on about whether there were actual cougars around. [link] Not to mention, I also don’t like bears all that much either - so everything looked suspicious in the dark. The trail itself is well marked and easy to find, so we didn’t have too much trouble following it all the way to Long Beach. Along the way we saw some neat small creatures (bugs, frogs, you know, the friendly animals). Soon we were making our way down the side of the hill and saw Long Beach ahead of us. We were excited to get down to the site, find a bear hang, and get to sleep. As soon as we got down to the site we noticed a parking lot, an interpretation centre, and that was about it! Where were the camp sites that were promised on the map? Did we have an old map? We could always find a bear hang and sleep on the grass in front of the interpretation centre, and we’d be ok. We took an expectant look around us, trying to find a tree that could be a bear hang. It was around midnight at this point, and we were both quite tired. The same spindly, close hugging trees seemed to surround the site. We cursed silently and tried to weigh our options. The next campsite we were going to be staying at was another 10kms or so from our current spot. I was too tired to hike until the morning. That’s when I noticed that the interpretation centre had bathrooms. “Hmmmm,” I pondered aloud. “Hmmm?” Marco questioned. “Well, the bathroom doors have handles. Those would be hard for animals to get into. We could put our food in there for the night. It’s not like anyone’s going to be using the bathrooms. The park is closed,” I suggested. We walked into the ladies bathroom and found a hook on the back of a change room to hang our food. With that sorted we turned our thoughts to setting up camp. “Hmmmm,” I pondered aloud. “Hmmm?” Marco questioned. “Well, instead of being tired and setting up the tent, and getting it wet [there was due on the ground], we could just sleep in the bathroom,” I suggested. “Is it….clean in here?” Marco asked, incredulous. “The ground is cement. They must wash it down once a day; besides, we’d be sleeping on our sleeping mats.” “...maybe.” I was convincing him! Success! In the end our exhaustion won, and we ended up setting up camp in the women’s bathroom at Long Beach. We set our alarm for the sunrise the next morning and settled into blissful sleep. “The long weekend is coming up,” he reminded me. I was sitting on a comfy couch, eating a large bowl of some peanut noodle dish, and drinking ice-cold iced tea. It is important to note here how I was completely comfortable with all of my needs being met: eating, feeling safe, feeling clean, no bugs around, and happy. Feeling that I was taking advantage of all of my creature comforts, I boldly proclaimed, “Let’s do the Fundy Footpath!” Oh naive Polo, you had no idea what path that would set us down. With our minds firmly made up, or mine was at least, we decided to do a test hike. “I can try out that new backpack I got for my trip later this summer!” I turned my expectant gaze towards Marco. “Nope,” he answered. “Nope?” “Nope. You’re going to have to do this hike with 20lbs+ on your back. Why would you take your tiny backpack for the test hike?” “....because it’s cute? And small?” “Exactly.” With our big packs stuffed full of a variety of heavy things, we set our sights on the start of the Fundy Footpath. The Fundy Footpath is a 49km (in total) footpath that goes from St. Martin’s, NB to Fundy National Park, NB. From what I’ve heard, this is only an estimate from a bird’s eye view of kilometres. This doesn’t take into account the kilometres that you are walking on the switchbacks, etc. While we were along the trail, we met people who were completing the trail in two days, and others who thought about stretching it out to nine days, in order to fully enjoy all of the campsites and side trails that the footpath has to offer. We noticed that, according to our altimeter, we would go up and down about 200m at a time. These elevation changes would occur in less than a kilometre. It can be a very difficult trail at times, but the views are stunning. The trail runs along the coast line for the majority of the path. Our goal of the test hike was to do what we would have to have done on the first day - approximately 16 kilometres. We started at the suspension bridge and right after crossing we noticed a plethora of raspberries. I liked this trail already. Or so I thought. After munching on a handful of berries, we turned the corner to see this! “Ok,” I said, with determination in my eyes, “Let’s go up!” I started on my way up the stairs. After a few stairs I notice that there was an absence of sound coming from Marco behind me. I turn around. The absence of sound was because he wasn’t behind me at all. He was a the bottom of the stairs. I was clearly going to crush this trail. Marco might need a little bit of help. Ha! I can do this! Then I noticed the smile on his lips. ![]() “Wrong way, huh?” “Yup.” With my tail between my legs, I descended the stairs and continued along the path. Then I noticed a trail blaze a little way down the path. For those of you who don’t know, a trail blaze is usually paint, or a piece of plastic, which helps to show you the trail so that you can go the correct way. The colour for the trail blazes on the Fundy Footpath? WHITE! White: the colour of trees, and one of the most natural colours that anyone could have chosen. Why didn’t they choose purple?! We continued along not too much further and we got to the real stairs that we were going to be headed up all day. Up and down, up and down, this is how the trail goes. I was finding that it wasn’t too difficult, and soon, after some more raspberry stops (seriously guys, they’re all over the trail!), we ended up at Long Beach. One of the reasons that I wanted to do this hike this year is because the trail is changing. It has been changing over the past few years. Marco would point out places which were complete wilderness before, and now had a road running right by it, or an interpretation centre right at camp sites. There will also be a reservation system for the entire trail, where you have to decide ahead of time where you will be staying. There will be no meandering through the forest until you are tired, or thinking that you can push onto the next spot. You will have to have everything planned out ahead of time, and you will have to pay for the sites. I wanted the freedom to do the trail in a less structured way. We arrived at Long Beach and took a moment to enjoy the beach, and the public restrooms at the interpretation centre. While we were taking in the sights this couple walked up to us. “Excuse me, are you doing the footpath?” the woman asked. “Yup! We’re just doing a test hike, but we’re following it today,” I answered both questions of what we were doing and why we had large packs on. “Do you know which way to go? We’ve gone in circles from the trail here to the parking lot a few times now.” “I think it’s just straight through the trees. Do you want to see if we can do it together?” Marco replied. “Thanks, I think I’m going to go into the interpretation centre and ask for directions,” she answered. Marco shrugged, we wished them luck, and we set off. We continued along the path and ended up at these two neat benches that were installed along the trail. We sat down and took a break. While we were looking out into the ocean, I noticed him squinting.
“What?” I asked. He pointed at two dots in the distance. “Those are seals,” he replied. “WHAAAAAAAT?!” Of course he was right - there were two seals playing in the water. We sat and watched them for a while. Once we were rested up we continued along to a nice lunch spot. We pulled out our lunches and gobbled them down. It wasn’t quite the halfway point, but I was getting tired and hungry. Besides, we were almost at the halfway point, and the view was nice from the top of the rocks. After a very yummy lunch (although after a day of hiking what isn’t a yummy lunch?) we packed up and started to head back. That was when we noticed the same lost couple headed our way. I had been wondering what happened to them. “Found your way?” Marco asked. “Yup! It’s a beautiful day, eh?” she responded. We stood and chatted for a bit and then wished them a good rest of their hike. We were going to turn back and head towards the car. As soon as we started walking back, Marco turned and glanced back. “They’re headed the wrong way,” he told me. We shrugged and continued back towards the car. I was happy to see the car, and nervous for our actual hike the following weekend. Could I finish the Fundy Footpath? Did that couple ever make it to Little Salmon River, and to their camp site? Only time would tell. ![]()
by The Meandering Canadian
August 10, 2018 “What do you want to do?” he asks as soon as we’ve set down our bags on our bed in the hostel. We’ve just made it to Rievère du Loup, Quebec. We had planned to stop in Quebec City (one of my top favourite cities in Canada) for a night, but the hostels there seemed to be all booked up. I was a little bummed because I had my sights set on visiting a few places. Oh well, next time! “I dunno; I’m a bit tired.” I reply. “Common’, it’s early. Let’s go out. What do you want to do?” I look at him. “You want ice cream don’t you?” he asks. Why yes, yes I do want ice cream. He knows me so well. “Wellllll...I did see something on Yelp about an ice cream place somewhere close-ish by,” I reply. It turns out that the only ice cream shop open in Rievère du Loup is a place called Ali-Baba’s. They proudly proclaimed that they were not an ice cream shop but a gelateria. I wasn’t holding my breath for good gelato from a place called Ali-Baba’s, but I figured that it was ice cream and I couldn’t complain much about that. “Turn here!” “Where?” “Here!” He turns the car and we seem to be headed for the highway. “....are you sure we’re going the right way?” he asks. He’d been driving all day and a lengthy drive for ice cream didn’t seem on the docket for today. “That’s what my phone is telling me,” I reply. After a short drive on the highway, seemingly out of the city, the GPS on my phone tells me to turn off on an exit that doesn’t look entirely right, but hey, what could go wrong? We turn off the highway; I can see something in the distance, and as we come closer to it we notice that it’s Ali-Baba’s. Getting out of the car, we notice that there’s a large store located right off the exit of the highway. Luckily, I had stashed some cash in my wallet before we left because as soon as we entered the shop we noticed that it was a cash-only kind of place. I started to drool at all of the different ice cream flavours. “Bonjour!” the shop keeper said excitedly. My brain began to whirl. How does one speak French again? What am I supposed to say? What are some French words? Pomme de terre? No that’s a potato. Ah! The shopkeeper must have noticed the panic on my face because he promptly switched over to English. As a Canadian I know that I should be better at French. Mental note: get better at speaking French. The shopkeeper told us what all of the flavours were, and I was excited to see actual pieces of pistachio in the pistachio flavoured gelato. Hmmm, could it be real? My excitement started to grow. Most people go to Italy and become wine snobs. Me? When I went to Italy I became a gelato snob. We each grabbed an ice cream and went to sit on the outdoor patio. I revelled in my gelato (yes it was real!) and thought about how strange a place Canada could be. We were sitting in Quebec, having had used English in a French speaking place, eating Italian ice-cream sold to us by a French man with a Middle Eastern shop name, watching the traffic go by on the highway with nothing else around but grass and trees. Sometimes there is a reason why you are thrown off the beaten path - to get gelato!
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