Bruce Trail Beauties End to End Hike

It was hard to believe that it was our penultimate hiking weekend, but indeed, the next weekend was to be our final one, when we were to reach Tobermory! The September 16 hike was #58 out of 61, from Cape Chin Road to Dyer’s Bay trail parking lot–18.0 km.

We were blessed with a sunny, warm day, and our spirits were high.

My two photographers beautifully captured the day

Thanks to them, we have records of many glorious scenes:

They also captured beauty that appeared on a smaller scale:

Sometimes I can’t decide which is more impressive—the artistry of nature or of the photographers:

JR and MJ also had a good eye for nature’s whimsies:

And for the whimsies of homo sapiens:

They even captured primates grooming each other:

And who knew what good portrait photographers they are!

The photographers also captured the most dramatic encounter of the day:

The Tale of the Sign and Matters Bovine

We had been forewarned by our fearless leader, absent from the day’s hike, about the unusual sign—“AVOID FARM ANIMALS”-and about the cattle. She had regaled us with a long story of the cows’ curiosity and prodigious products. Yet no less an expert than her sister declared that the leader’s tale may be BS, so we approached the field with more frivolity than fear.

But as we approached we could see that indeed, the cattle were numerous…

and curious…

and fearsome…

So we planned our approach carefully.

Finally, we were led by the farmer in the group. Her expression may have been fearless, but note that she carried a big stick.

Emboldened by our numbers, however, soon enough we crossed and were all safely on the other side of the pasture. And we left in stile.

Somehow along the way a poem started taking shape in my head. I have no idea what inspired it…

Here is the poem (It’s not a haiku—it’s a hike-oo)

Why do we hike?

Oh, why do we do it? Why do we hike?
When we could travel by car or by bike?
It’s not for the pain in the knees and the hip
Nor for the tree roots that cause us to trip
It’s not for the bruises, the bunions, and blisters
We hike for the vistas…

And fun with our sistas…

It’s not ‘cause we like rising so early on Sundays
nor for the stiffness that greets us on Mondays
It’s not for the rain, and getting soaked
And the sun in July can bring on heat stroke
But we love the splendour and solace of trees…

And laughing together…

and smiles like these:

Oh where is that blaze? We dread getting lost
And we don’t even want to think of the cost
of the gear we have purchased–the boots, poles, and gaiters,
Paying for parking, motel rooms, and waiters
It’s not for JR’s collections for gas

Or the kind that, while walking, we inadvertently pass.

But we like mossy canyons and soft forest floors

The smell of the cedars and the flowers galore

We don’t relish the complex and changing logistics

it’s a wonder it doesn’t drive DS ballistic

It’s not for the mosquitoes, the ticks, and the bugs

It’s for the talks…

IR’s stories…

and the hugs…

We like the challenge and cardio workout

And savouring the spectacular lookouts

We can forget the scrapes and the gashes
The toenails we lost and the poison ivy rashes
Because we love the views of the bay…

And a buttery tart at the end of the day…

We like the space and the time for reflection…

but most of all, we love our connection…

Our second day of hiking proved to be just as stunning as the first.  The Limeys headed off from Dyer’s Bay to our destination of Crane Lake 12 kilometers to the north.

With the official start of autumn only 5 days away, amazingly, Tee Shirts and sun screen were the preferred attire.  We were missing only one hiker from the previous day – apparently she slipped away in the middle of the night and drove off to her waiting lover.  The rest of us hiked into the waiting bosom of a hot, breezy day.

Could there possibly have been a more perfect day for the third last hike of our years long trek to Tobermory?

As the day went on and the temperature rose, a daring hiker chose to shed some habiliments, not in the shadows of the forest but in the middle of the road!! Our hiker was going to make sure that as many people as possible saw her getting comfortable.

Perhaps she is getting “downsized” and is practicing for a new career. If this blog could speak you would hear in the background a rousing chorus of “Patricia The Stripper” accompanying our shedding hiker.

Those readers with sharp eyes will have noticed the sign in the background of the last picture indicating that travelers in need of showers, groceries and camping should head off to the right.

This led to some confusion among the ladies, while some hikers headed off in one direction, others were convinced that the exact opposite direction was where our destination lay.

We were surprised to come across an anatomically correct replica of the middle-aged hikers knee kindly supplied by a sympathetic tree.

This hike was no different from the other hikes of 2017 with poison ivy being in abundant supply ready to caress the unsuspecting hiker with its itchy fingers.

This time it was a stunning red hue perhaps sun burnt by the long summer of rays. Hopefully no souvenirs from this overly friendly plant were taken home after the hike.

As it was late summer there were signs all around that autumn was fast approaching.

Tough yet delicate flowers like this fall aster dotted the sides of the road.

The ubiquitous red maple leaf, a proud Canadian icon.

Note the creative use of wild roadside flowers to create a tiara for our own “Queen Anne”. The milliner is on the right.

We saw some sandhill cranes noshing in a farmer’s field fattening up for the long migration to the southern U.S.  Sandhill cranes have been our frequent hiking companions on the northern sections of the Bruce and we have come to marvel at their striking size and distinctive call. 

Sandhill cranes mate for life which can mean more than 2 decades in the daily presence of their partner.  Anyone who has been partnered for even a short period of time can attest to the amount of patience and devotion this amount of togetherness requires.

The apples along the side of the road were abundant and some hikers were quick to avail themselves of the fruit.

There were many options for apple tasting and the fruit from numerous different trees was sampled.  We did however come across a sobering reminder not to eat too many apples in the middle of the road.

This poor apple eating creature was caught short of the loo by the powerful peristaltic effect of the forbidden fruit.

No Limey’s hiking blog would be complete without the obligatory “view” picture.

No one ever seems to tire of the spectacular views from the escarpment to the Great Lake below.  Those who have escarpment view fatigue probably also dislike kitten videos and breakfast in bed.

Our photogs were able to nab a rare picture of the normally talkative Homo Bloomingdalicus hiker (we are using formal anthropological terminology here for clarity) in a pensive moment.

The road to the Crane Lake parking spot was more lake-like than road-like on our first hike of the year and was serving as a thoroughfare for muskrat and beaver in the spring.

But, by the end of the summer, the water had ebbed chased away by the heat and lack of recent rain.

No lake here, just enough brown water to seep into the boot of a careless hiker.

So the ladies lament the passing of the summer and will soon be facing a parting of our own. To paraphrase Leonard Cohen:

Everybody knows that the summer’s over

Everybody knows that its winding down

Everybody knows that the light is fading

Everybody knows that the leaves are spent

Everybody knows that the weather’s changing

That’s how it goes

Everybody knows

Everybody knows that it has to happen

Everybody knows that all good things end

Everybody’s got this broken feeling

That their losing a good friend.

But remember – “There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.”  Cecilia Thackster

Acknowledgements  – Thanks to MJ, JR and DE for the photographs.  Without them this blog would not be possible