Ride to the Headwaters - mini Birthday Challenge

Biking the backroads of Southern New Brunswick

Looking across the Saint John - Petitcodiac Watershed Divide in Corn Hill

This afternoon, for my mini Birthday Challenge (the real deal is the Fundy Trek), I'm bicycling from my house at the Mouth of the Saint John River to the Headwaters of one of it major tributaries, the Kennebecasis River. I grew up in Corn Hill which forms the watershed divide between two of New Brunswick's famous rivers- the Saint John and the Petitcodiac. A good birthday challenge should provide some reflection. As a kid I was obsessed with the creeks near our house, the puddles in our driveway, and even a good rainstorm. So for my 24th birthdday it's fitting to retrace my path through the river network back to Corn Hill.

Since I'm dedicating my ride to water I thought I'd start by tracing the taps from my house back to their source at Loch Lomond in East Saint John. Beyond this I'll continue through Barnesville, Upham, and Hillsdale following the beautiful Hammond River Valley (http://www.hraa.ca/). Near the community of Hammondvale I'll part with this river and head towards Sussex Corner, joining Trout Creek shortly, before I leave Sussex and begin to follow Smiths Creek to Corn Hill.

While watersheds collect and concentrate the rain, our backroads reflect century old carriage paths that took people and their goods from farm to village to town and city. From the hinterlands of the Kennebecasis Watershed, people for thousands of years have walked and floated downstream to Saint John. These age old paths are now paved and impersonal but they can be tamed once again on foot or bike.

I love hearing the old stories of farmboys from Corn Hill biking the 25 km into Sussex for a Friday night dance then biking home again in the wee hours of the night. Although I doubt it would be much fun to ride a single speed bike on those bumpy old dirt roads, the idea of riding my bike get somewhere is very appealing. Biking home today is about more than just a physical challenge, I frankly need to get home. Its my Dad's big 60th birthday party on Saturday and I have a whole day of work to our place ready for it!

As my friend Ross often reminds me, human bodies evolved for motion. We can walk and run more efficiently than any other land animal. And the invention of the bike in the early 1800's increased the efficiency of our human potential once again. Last night I got a lesson on bike mechanics from my friend Lucas, the bike mechanic, as he fixed up my old Nishiki road bike on his backdeck. It's been a couple years since I pedalled 100km. I'll see how it feels to be an efficient human...probably painful :)
graham waugh, local motion, biking, bicycling, cycling, birthday challenge, corn hill, sussex, saint john, kennebecasis, hammond river,


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Ride and Hike to Green Head

The Cliffs of GreenHead

The other night I was looking for an evening bicycle ride and remembered hearing about cliffs at Green Head, Near Dominion Park, in Saint John West. The ride was just what I needed. An hour on my bike and a 2 km hike with a dash of exploring.

I packed some things, a sweater, some water, my headlamp, and a clif bar, then hit the road. I pedaled down Harbour Passage, enjoying the smooth red pavement, then climbed over the hill to the Reversing falls Bridge. After a couple simple turns to the North, I crossed the tiny bridge and found myself on the Rectangular Island that faces into Grand Bay.

When exploring a new area I like to bike to the end of roads so that I can develop a mental map of the place. So I followed the main road, soon arriving at Dominion Park Beach. The beach was not my scene. 'Man Trucks' blared crappy radio rock in the parking lot, while people slammed back pop from the canteen. No cliffs in sight. I turned to the remaining road on the island, climbed a steep hill on my bike and came across a woods road that went North. (On google maps this is labeled as an extension of Greenhead Road.) This road has been blocked off with a few large boulders. Eager to find some wilderness and knowing there was still a lot of Island left to the North, I stashed my bike and started hiking.

I followed this straigt forward ATV road for 2 km, admiring the big old forest, and soaking up spectacular views from a powerline clearing on the highland. Big forested hills rumpling into the sparking water, reminding me of hiking along the Saanich Peninsula, just north of Victoria, BC. The road ended at a small cove that was backed by tall limestone cliffs. I was blown away by the rugged landscape. The site has been a quarry once and bizarre formations remain.

I scrambled up scree slopes and walked along narrow limestone ridges that reminded me of hiking in the Canadian Rockies near Canmore. The rock was identical. The cliffs were tall and held some potential for rock climbing. Though, like I had heard the most impressive face, 100 ft of slightly overhanging blank rock, was nearly completely blank. The bulk of it was devoid of cracks and holds. But beautiful in its own right. The 50-60 foot rambling cliffs on either side of the big face could hold easier sport routes. And I did see the potential for a line through a large flake that would only require a couple bolts to protect the top third. If quarrying had taken place on this face, then nature had hidden the scars. The rock was clean and weathered.

The MainFace, big, intimidating, and seriously lacking hand holds.

I ran into a young couple that regularly enjoying hike in the area. They informed me that the cave, up on the cliff, was at least 100 ft deep and was a popular spot for caving. These two carried on to scramble up one of the cliffs.

This area is also a popular party spot with empty beer bottles in abundance. In my experience, Moose Light is the number one beer bottle tossed in the woods (Coors light cans are close behind). I wonder why this is? Apparently Moosehead has the bush-party/camp market cornered in New Brunswick. Is it the "wild" or "nature" appeal of the name "moosehead"? And why do these manly outdoors men drink "Light" beer? This was the case on Turtle Mountain. The tough guys in their loaded Jeeps, who spray painted naked women on the cliffs, handed us bottles of Moose Light as they drove off the Mountain. I wonder if Moosehead, who is a proud community partner for many events, realizes that its product is often left as trash in the woods?

I soaked up the last of the warm sun from a mini ridge line, overlooking the sparkling bay, banked by countless layers of mountains in the distance. Lots of people enjoy this natural space. Even the ones who leave their garbage behind. I'm glad they use it. We all need some wild in our lives. But what has caused them to accept leaving trash behind? This gives me something to to think about on the ride home.

Local Motion, graham waugh, hiking, saint john, dominion park, green head, cycling, biking routes, cliffs, rock climbing, explore, exploring, road rides,
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DIY

Where: Saint John West
Distance: 9 km (oneway) from Uptown Saint John to trail head. 2 km (oneway) along ATV trails to cove and cliffs.
Directions: See Google Maps below. From Uptown take Harbour Passage and the Reversing Falls Bridge. Veer Right at Simms Corner, then right again onto Manawagonish Road, and right onto Church Street, and right again onto Greenhead Road. Pass the prominent Church, go down the long hill, cross the small bridge, and keep right on Greenhead Road. Climb to the top of the short hill. This road loops back around to Dominion Park Beach.
The trail head, is marked on the map by the white circle. It is at the top of the hill, directly across from a house. It is marked by a few big stones to keep traffic out. On this trail, stay on the main path. There are couple small side trails, but its obvious that these are not used as much. At the power lines follow the trail to the left and down the big hill. The hike climbs and descends several hills but is relatively easy.
Roads: It's a straight forward route, requiring a minimum of city riding, despite being through the city. Smooth pavement for most of it. Harbour passage is easy to ride and there is a section, though short, of bike lane on Church street. This route is easy to navigate on the way to Green Head because it is all right hand turns.


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Mellow Pedaling to Mispec

We are pretty lucky in Saint John to have so many back roads cutting across a range of landscapes. From the rolling river valley to the Bay of Fundy, cycling provides a great way to experience the regions unique character. Recently I've stumbled upon a cycling gem.

For the past two nights, I've hopped on my bicycle and pedaled down the meandering road to Mispec. After a sedentary day in the office, nothing feels better than propelling myself away from the city in the cool summer air. I find the motion of bicycling soothing to my mind and energizing to my body. Life is better when I bike!

The entire route from Uptown Saint John to Mispec Beach is about 30km round trip. I started getting to know this area in June with shorter excursions along Red Head Road, eventually working up to the 30km route. A regular cyclist will find this route easy, while those looking to improve their endurance and fitness will find this mellow road ideal training ground.

From my house at the bottom of Orange Street on the Saint John Peninsula, I need only navigate city traffic for five minutes before I hit the quiet two-lane Red Head Road that takes me all the way to Mispec. This route was made for biking! I wouldn't call it flat (nothing is flat in Southern New Brunswick!) but the short hills are gentle and just the right length for a quick charge to the top. The road begins at the wide tidal flats near in East Saint John, passes the Red Head Marsh, then on to old farmsteads that contrast with wide watery views of Saint John. On the way out to Mispec the road gradual climbs, providing you with an excellent perspective of the city with its Mountainous backdrop to the North.

At this time of year, a smattering of wild flowers have reclaimed the ditches. Nature is close at hand. Tuesday night I saw a bald eagle swooping at a seagull and last week I studied a red fox that paralled my path for over a hundred feet. Rock outcrops become prominent through the trees and finally when you've reached the height of land in Mispec, the trees break away to Mispec Beach, a gem in the craggy shore. The route's only steep hill brings you to the bridge across Mispec River and an equally steep climb up the otherside. But don't despair, in a few minutes you can pull into Mispec Beach and relax on the flat sandy beach. Tuesday night, I found myself there, totally mesmerized by the endless rippled sand. It was my first time at the beach and I was instantly sucked in by its beauty. I walked over the soft wet sand to the water's edge. The tide was out and over 400 feet of flat beach was exposed. The flatness of the beach is extentuated by the rocky headlands that thrust out on either side. That night a half dozen couples and families were strolling the beach. Teenagers had found some space to hang out on the rocks and young girls were eating ice cream purchased from the canteen. And despite the big honking Liquified Natural Gas Towers of Canaport...the view is still incredible, though I have to admit I felt like I was looking at the lair of some James Bond villain.

So if you live in Central Saint John, this incredible beach is only a 35 minute pedal from your door. That's so quick! Really, what is 35 minutes? With the round trip clocking in at just over an hour, you could do this tonite! Do it for exercise, for freewheeling freedom, or to earn an apetite for a picnic on the beach.

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Details:
Start: From Uptown cross the Courtney Bay Causeway, turn Right onto Bayside Drive, then Right again onto the Red Head Road.
Distance: 30 km out and back from Uptown Saint John ( round trip). Can shorten ride by turning around at any point.
Terrain: Flat - Mellow Hills, a slight general climb towards Mispec
Road Conditions: Varied new and old pavement, but overall old 2 lane road with no shoulder. Potholes, cracks, and pavement patches in many places but easy to navigate around.
Traffic: The 60 km/hr Speed Limit keeps traffic mellow, but rushhour has low to moderate traffic
Services: Conveniance store at midway point, water available from canteen and washrooms at Mispec Beach.
More informaion:
http://www.new-brunswick.net/Saint_John/mispec/mispec.html
http://saintjohnlifeonyourterms.blogspot.com/2008/08/morning-at-mispec-beach.html

Saint John, Local Motion, New BRunswick, Outdoors, Biking, Adventure, Graham Waugh

Fundy Trek....18 Days to go!

The Fundy Coastline from Martin Head (photo credit Greg McCracken)

Join me on the Fundy Trek between July 26th and August 1st
for my 24th Birthday Challenge.

I decided that this year for my 24th birthday I needed to set a challenge for myself. I guess it all started last year when for my birthday I climbed the Cardiac Arrete Route on the Grand Sentinel near Lake Louise. At the time it was slightly over my head. I'd never tried anything like it before. My friend James and I hiked over 28 km that day, with 800m elevation, and froze our asses on a 4 pitch 5.10c sport route. We stumbled back to the car in the empty parking lot at dusk with smiles on our faces. It was the best birthday in a long time and an excellent way to start my 23rd year. Check out these incredible birthday challenges, http://www.birthdaychallenge.com/index2.html.

After throwing around a lot of ideas I have finally settled on attempting the Fundy Trek. It's a ~125km trail from Riverview to St. Martin's through the dramatic Fundy Highlands. I got the idea from www.fundyfootpath.info. This will be a challenge for me since (1) I've never completed a backpacking trip of this length. My trips in the past have been limited to 2-3 day hikes. (2) I'm unfamiliar with these trails.

The Trek links the 50 year old Dobson Trail (~ 60 km) with the renowned Fundy Footpath (~45km), with trails in Fundy National Park (~20km). The Fundy Trek traverses some of this regions most wild places. Last summer on an overnight hike to Martin Head, my Dad and I found Mossy Rainforests, Giant Hardwoods, Huge Waterfalls, beaches, incredible coastal cliffs. We are so lucky to have this wilderness in our backyard. In fact it was recently designated at a UNESCO Fundy Biosphere Reserve due to its unique biological and geological nature. This hike has garnered a reputation as a serious physical challenge with heady logistics due to the many river crossing near the world's high tides! As it says on the Fundy Footpath website, "This is where the Appalachians meet the Sea".

For practical reasons I decided to delay my "birthday challenge" until the end of July. (My Birthday is July 16th, I'll have a mini-challenge on that day). I'm taking the last week of July off work (27th to 31st), which gives me 9 days to work with. My current plan is to start in Riverview around the 26 or 27th of July. I plan to hike the Dobson Trail as fast and light as possible. When I arrive in Alma I'll pick up my extra gear and food before starting the Fundy Footpath. Mid-way along the Fundy Footpath I want to take a day to explore the Eye of the Needle and the cliffs of Walton Glen Canyon. Check out these links:
http://waterfallsnewbrunswick.ca/?p=210
http://doingstuffoutdoors.com/2007/11/19/through-the-eye-of-the-needle/

The trail has several sections, providing ample opportunities for others to join me for 1 to 4 day chunks. I've learnt that hiking is more enjoyable with people and my hope is that others will come along to share the experience. I've found that the best number for backpacking trips is 3-5 people.

Here are some Options for joining me:
Major Sections:
- Dobson trail (2-3 days)
- Fundy Park (1-2 days)
- Footpath (4 days)
- the whole thing! (6-8 days.)
Minor Sections:
- Join me from Hayward Pinnacle near Elgin and hike to Shepody Road in the Park. ~ 20 km?
- Shepody Road to Alma in Fundy National Park. ~15 km?
- Alma to Goose Creek in Fundy National Park. ~15 km?
- Martin Head to St. Martins (accessible by logging road with a truck). ~35 km

In the coming days I'll be providing more information about my itinery. Please contact me if you are interested in joining me or have advice on trail logistics. Contact me at grhmwgh@gmail.com or 506.647.6588


A Misty Morning at the Mouth of the Quiddy River near Martin Head. Look at the size of this Valley. Think about what it took to create that. Now look at the photograph below. My Dad snapped that photo near the start of our hike. Again its the Quiddy River but wait a minute, how did that little river create such a big Valley? The glaciers that flattened the tops of these appalachian mountains also eroded huge river valleys. And those valleys are what make the Fundy Foot path so demanding.

Trail Info
Fundy Footpath http://www.fundyfootpath.info/
Dobson Trail http://timestranscript.canadaeast.com/rss/article/497528
Fundy National Park http://www.pc.gc.ca/pn-np/nb/fundy/index_e.asp

The High Rollers of Kings County

Thump thump thump, my heart pounds in my throat as I take three leaps up the scree slope and brace into a tree. Wiping sweat from my eyes I look for cliffs through the lush jungle. After I left the car this morning, the sun came out to cook the week's rain turning the valley into a muggy greenhouse. The climbing is slow but at least the elevation provides a benchmark for my progress. I'm drawn up this hill to a silent cliff that flanks the ridge.

I spied the cliff last winter while driving back to Sussex after hiking with my dad near St. Martin's. Driving home through the Hammond River Valley my face was glued to the window staring up at the big swollen mountains covered in snow and hardwoods. These are the remains of old Appalachian Mountains. Smoothed over millions of years into high whale-like ridges and giant building waves ready to crash into the valleys below. In this High Roller Country, the names of the communities speak the narrative of the land; Hillsdale, Upham, Upperton, and Mount Prospect.

I jog up the last of the scree slope and reach the base of the brown cliff. Whoa. What I saw from the road was just the forehead of the cliff face. Below the canopy the cliff runs along for a couple hundred meters. In most places it rises over 50 feet to break through the canopy. I explore the base, skirting around fern covered boulders, and admiring the rock formations. I startle a turkey vulture which explodes over my head and breaks into flight over the valley, joining its partner in arching turns.

I scramble around to reach the top, finding a perch overlooking the valley. In front of me the Hammond River snakes below a wide green mountain. To the East I can just see the back of Saddleback Mountain, and to the Southwest I can see the wedge of Mt. Prospect steeply rising above Upperton. Pristine White clouds pile up into the blue sky and sun is catching mist rising out of the forest. I sit there imagining hiking and skiing trails coursing through these hills. Hardwood forests, steep climbs, ridge and gaps. The raw ingredients are here among the High Rollers of Kings County.

Growing up in New Brunswick, I didn't imagine places like this existing around here. I thought they were only found in far away exotic destinations. This little cliff may be no comparison to soaring cliffs of the Rockies but remember that this is not the Rockies. This is here. We are here. You might just find that the surprise in your backyard holds more significance than a tourist destination half a world away. Since coming back to New Brunswick I have been finding more and more wild areas just like this. The unexpected discoveries suddenly fill spaces in my mind the size of Mountains. And I've realized that I can have my life here and adventure too!

Unfortunately I forgot my camera that day :(
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DIY:
I encourage you to explore the High Rollers of Kings County. If you spend a bit of time driving (or biking) around the hills south of Hampton ( Titusville-Upham-Upperton-Hillsdale) you'll soon find a ridge or mountain that catches your eye. Pack some food and safety gear (compass, whistle, map, etc.) and go exploring. Remember that this area is almost entirely private land, so be respectful of that. I'll also warn you that bushwhacking is hard work, progress may be slow. It's also easy to get disorientated and loose your bearings. You're blind exploring now could someday help the development of trails in this area. The country roads in this area would also make for an excellent day of cycling.

Turtle Mountain Trip

Just Wilderness?

Over the long weekend in May my friends Ross and Paul and I backpacked into Turtle Mountain. That's the mystical turtle shell that you can see from the highway just north of Saint John. Like I said in an earlier post we saw some of New Brunswick's best and worst characteristics.

Paul prepared a great write up about our Turtle Mountain backpacking trip on his blog. Thanks Paul!

You can check out Paul's detailed write up and extensive photos by following this link.

BEWARE! If you like surprises and the thrill of discovering places on your own, you should seriously reconsider reading his post until you've done the hike yourself.

http://paulmaybee.wordpress.com/2009/05/31/turtle-mountain/

SW Miramichi Run

Early morning steam on the Miramichi.

Last weekend everything lined up for a perfect canoe trip along the South West Miramichi. The SW Miramichi is just one many branches of the Greater Miramichi System. We settled on a two day trip between Boiestown and Upper Blacksville. Friends and a local outfitter O'Donnells, tolds us that it was sure to have lots of water, no serious rapids, and enjoyable scenery.

All 14 paddlers, across two generations, met Friday night at a friend's cottage on the river near Boiestown. We enjoyed a relaxing evening on the shore watching the sunset around a bonfire. The sun was cooking in the morning as we loaded the canoes and pushed off into the first shallow rapids.

The river carried us along, passing beaches, hardwood stands, and camps. We dodged a handful of fly fishers and zipped through some mellow rapids. We stopped for a picnic lunch on cobble beach under the shade of maples. Later on we stopped for a swim at a narrow spot where we had fun floating with the fast current. I think we were all surprised how warm the water was.

After a full day of paddling ( and floating!) we passed Doaktown and began our search for a campsite. We had heard you could camp on the islands but weren't sure which one to pick. Of course flowing downstream doesn't give you much chance to compare islands. Once you're past an island it's gone. We landed on a cobble beach that looked suitable but found uneven cobble. There was head scratching, speculating, pacing, and canoes began searching the nearby shores. We heard of a better site downstream so a gang went investigate. We found a cathedral growth maple forest with ferns up to our waists. Nearby was a better cobble beach which held some hope for camping. We signalled for the other boats. I was determined to make this site work but luckily others were less into it since further exploring discovered a beautiful sandy site nearby.

I think everyone was pretty relieved at that point to have reached a consensus. It was a wonderful spot to pitch tents and have a bonfire. We felt quite remote despite catching glimpses of a cottage on a the far bank. It was amazing arriving at this perfect camping site without seeing any trace of human's having been here. I think part of the wilderness feeling is the sensation that you are the first person to have touched a place in a long time.

We had a gourmet supper, including salmon (from home! not fresh!) and salads, thanks to many great cooks. We sat around the fire on logs we plucked from the river, laughing, and watching nighthawks swoop for insects in the darkening sky. The wind carried a hint of rain and brought dark clouds overhead. But even the rumbling thunder didn't prepare us for the explosion of wind and rain that ensued. I think some sleep was lost while the sky danced but we stayed dry in our tents. I woke up in the morning to a oppressive heat. Ross later described the feeling in our tent well. "I felt like I was in a muggy greenhouse, I couldn't get a breath of air." For the second day in a row the pressure was high and the sun was hot.

The group on the second morning. Look at that Sand! What a Campsite!

Leaving our campsite for day two on the river.

The second day on the river took as through steep valleys again, past cottages, down mellow rapids, and a into widening river. We sped down the Miramichi with the wind at our backs. For lunch we stopped on an another island, nestled down behind a knoll and picnic'd in the sun. We enjoyed pickles, peanut butter, cheese, and hot pepper on pitas. Which as you can probably tell signified the end of our food reserves.

We pulled out at the Upper Blacksville bridge after traveling around 50 km in our day and a half on the river. O'Donnell's, a local outfitter, shuttled our drivers back to Boiestown where the cars had been left. It was impressive to drive back to Boiestown and see how far we had travelled.

I think the consensus was great company, perfect weather, good food, and next year we're going to go bigger!

Thank you Joe, Gudi, Lee, Ruel, Mike, Laura, Linda, Dave, Cathy, Lenny, Mom, Dad, and Ross for all the laughs. I look forward to next year!

Biking Hinterland

Hinterland: a rural area surrounding the urban catchment of large cities or ports. It is characterized by a less dense population and low infrastructure that produces food and goods for the city. In England it refers to the "back country" or "surrounding countryside."

This Victoria Day Weekend I got away to Turtle Mountain with two friends. We enjoyed the hot sun on Saturday while on Sunday we relished in the coziness that cooking under a tarp in the rain can bring. I'll write more about this later. For now I'll just say we saw some of New Brunswick's best and worst characteristics.

Last Monday was an overcast drizzly day. Late in the afternoon, I felt the urge to get out pedaling. I threw together a few things in my backpack and hit the road on my old 10 speed bike. My goal was to see a new part of Saint John.

I headed North, on familiar streets at first, until I wound up hills past Rockwood Park and the University. Without a map I was free to explore with only my memory to get me home. I continued along rocky forests and sparsely populated areas until I came to a sign for the Millidgeville Ferry. I made a snap decision and turned to the water.

On the 15 minute Ferry ride I soaked up the Kennebecasis River and scanned the rocky Kingston Peninsula coast for beaches. I was amazed to see rugged undeveloped coastline so close to the city. Chatting with the Ferry operator prepared me for the steep hill I had in store on the other side. Of course, that's the story of Ferry Landings, always at the bottom of the hill.

On the Kingston Peninsula, in a community called Summerland, I pedaled along forests and farmlands. In the passing fields I could see Rhubarb patches tucked around old sheds and budding apple tree orchards. At every hillcrest I caught glimpes of the Old Appalachian Mountains rolling along on the north of the Kingston Peninsula.

I pedalled around thinking of the old days when the Peninsula was the breadbasket of Saint John and Southern New Brunswick. The Peninsula has the fortune of sitting at the intersection of two major waterways; The St. John River and the Kennebecasis River. In the 1800's the river was Main Street and sail boats carried hand made and farm raised goods up and down river.

The richness of the land is still felt on those country roads. On a bike, moving at a human pace, you can retrace history past the hedgerows and cow pastures. This is Saint John's hinterland.

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DIY

The Kingston Peninsula provides excellent bike trips of all lengths whether for an afternoon, saturday morning, or day long endurance ride. You'll find low traffic and lots of rolling hills.

Starting from home and crossing over to the Kingston Peninsula by Ferry on your bike will help you realize the significance of the waterways. There are multiple Ferries, all of which are free.
http://www.gnb.ca/0113/ferries/ferries-e.asp
http://www.kingstonpeninsula.org/

Saint John, Local Motion, New BRunswick, Outdoors, Biking, Adventure, Graham Waugh

A Pick Up Truck with Fins

Last night a couple friends and I picked up a case of beer and biked out to the beach in West Saint John. Arriving after dark, we were surprised to find crowds of people leaving the beach. That's when we learned of the beached shark.

We got on the rock beach and split from the groups of people huddled around flashlight beams. We found a good sitting rock, cracked open a beer and looked out over the black sky. Tanker ships glowed like little cities on the horizon. The lapping surf drowned the city and left us alone on the coast. With a case of beer and much conversation behind us, we got up, shook off the sand and went searching for the shark.

Following the narrow tunnel cast by Ross's mini bike light we moved across the beach looking for the beast. When we came upon it's dark grey body we thought we'd found a whale. It's belly rose up to my waist and it was easily longer than a Pick Up truck. But dorsal fins, gills, and the vertical symmetry of its tail gave it away as shark. Sadly, but not surprisingly the head had been cut off and removed, for the jaws and teeth no doubt. It probably was a harmless plankton-filtering Basking Shark but I'm no expert.

There are beautiful, wild things in those cold Fundy waters.

Approximate Spring

Approximate Spring
Learning to Add and Subtract
Cold Rain and Warm Snow

I live in a house.
Drink coffee and flush toilets.
I drive cars and use stoves.

Living in dry warmth
Keeps Nature's Indecision
At bay, behind glass

Separation is
Clearly freedom to decide
In this transition

We can play outside
While Spring tries to makes its mind
Or just pout inside.

This month, I spent a Weekend in Halifax soaking up ideas; and another in Rumney, Hew Hampshire rock climbing above hardwood forests. The constant thought of climbing clings to my head like hair. Back in Saint John today, we went cliff exploring near Upham where the little appalachians were blanketed in sticky snow. A friendly man wheelbarrowing gravel in his yard showed us the way. "Follow the creek up the hill through the forest. Watch out for loose rock." As the creek ended we found ourself in a cathedral of ancient hardwoods. Walking on the hillside shoulder we imagined skiing the bowls and biking the rolls. Above us a stood a tantalizing 60 foot cliff on the mountain top.

More climbs? More potential? There are gifts for the energetic.

Thawing our Minds

Packing tonight for a weekend in Halifax has given me some time to slow down. At the start of this new month I thought I'd better give an update.

March was a busy month. Many late nights lead to groggy mornings as I worked to finish my Travel Journal. I accomplished my self imposed deadline of the first of Spring, getting a few copies out to family. It became apparent that my Travel Journal would need some minor edits so I've spent a few more late nights polishing it up. And today the first of spring I've got a dozen copies on hand and have shipped one to a friend in France.

For one of the first times in my life I'm crushed to see winter fade. The days of crisp air, sparkling sun, and blue ice are sadly over. This winter was very good to me. Thanks to my new Saint John friends I got in over 11 days of ice climbing this winter. The final day came on the second day of spring in Welsford. Under the spell of our eyes we watched the ice crash down. That afternoon rock season started. In our mountaineering boots we bumbled our way up some easy climbs. The cross country skiing this winter was excellent. Though I'm disheartened to announce that one of my old wood skis snapped. During an ice climbing adventure I got to try out alpine touring skiing and since then some research has lead me to an interest in Karhu XCD skis.

This winter taught me that the fun never has to stop. Winter adventures on skis or ice are perhaps more thrilling then what we can achieve in the warmer months. The world gets bigger every winter. Hollows and ridges are transformed into canyons and mountaintops. Tramping through a fresh powder snow on a sunner saturday morning I've breathed the freshest air of my life. And in the dead of winter there's nothing like standing in the sun watching steam rise from my bare hands. That's the beauty of moving. It's stokes your furnace. Getting outside and moving in the winter is the cure for winter blues.

From my observations, New Brunswickers give up 5 months of their year. Five months spent inside waiting for the spring to come. Just as much at the office as at the hardware store you'll hear grumbles like aftershocks of the most recent snow storm. Cold snaps are communicated by the stomping of feet on door mats. "You hear there's more snow coming on Thursday?" The neighbour replies "Jeez, not again. I tell you there's no use for that stuff."

That's 5 months that we slow down, cease up, and withdraw from the world. Our minds freeze. That accounts for almost half a lifetime! Anyone who exercise regularly knows that the mind slows down when the body slows down. So it leads me to wonder what 5 months of inactivity is doing to the minds of New Brunswickers? If we've collectively lost out on 5 months of the year what decade does that put us in as a society? It's not just New Brunswick. I'd assume that colder climates across North America suffer from this mental freeze as well.

The solution may involve getting red faced and sweaty. Aerobic activity is the cure. You need to keep the fresh oxygen circulating to your brain. Awaken those brain cells. Among the gammit of walking, jogging, snowshoeing, cross country skiing, skating, and stacking firewood there is always an activity for the conditions. Cross country skiing is my favorite. There's nothing quite like that smooth motion.

Imagine what a revival of winter could do to cold climate societies everywhere. Bodies energized, minds buzzing, we'll leave Half-Life behind. The society that captures this forgotten time will rocket ahead in happiness and prosperity... and will probably look pretty good in their fitted coats too!

You're probably thinking "ugh, now I have to wait til next winter." Not so! Mud Season is upon us! Put on some waterproof boots aka rubber boots and get hiking. It's an excellent time of year to catch excellent views through the leafless trees, hike in comfortable temperatures, and revel in a world free of blackflies. I've already gotten in two sunny, summer ish days of rock climbing.

One of those experiences

that leaves you stoned and stirring.

Waking up on top of a river, I feel that omen. Damn I have to piss. Zzzzip, tent door opens, my face feels the cold air and my eyes squint in the brightness. Starlight, a relic, that dreamy notion, is alive and well tonight. A traffic jam of diamonds crunch underfoot and jostle overhead. Back in the tent I can hear the stream burble three feet beneath my pillow.

Cold, wet, hard. Three things that could easily describe winter camping. But not this weekend. Sunny skies, fresh-air that hung on every breath and dried my clothes overnight. How about breakfast in bed? So why did we get so lucky this weekend? It was the first time for all four of us - winter camping and being to this place. We had heard the stories. The claims about this canyon. Fuzzy photos and poor maps. Not far from town yet a trek to get here; logging roads, skis, sleds, snow up to our hips. Nothing really prepared us for the scale and depth of this place. We swore and laughed at the snow bridges, cliffs, and 200 hundred year old spruce.

Everything lined up so perfectly. Two days of river walking headlamp hiking. Do you suppose that some of those stars lined up for us? We left the wilderness this evening, humbled and thinking. One question that rose above the coffee-fueled high on the drive home is "What did we do to deserve this?" Maybe we started by being stoked like a fire. And just believing there's always more to explore when you play outside.

Stoke your fire. Go explore with friends. Remember that photographs and descriptions only show about 1%. You've got to discover the rest.



p.s. This is all you get. The two white dots in lower center of the photo are headlamps as we hike back to camp through the slot canyon.

Culinary Survival Series

No Soil? No Problem.

Thanks to Mom, Winterwood, and Ashley for inspiring and teaching me how to sprout.

These guys are from my first batch.

1. Soak overnight.
2. Drain.
3. Put in collander with cheese cloth on bottom, mason jar with screen over mouth. Something to keep them from going down the sink after each wash.
4. Keep them moist, rinsing twice a day does the trick and also washes away fine bits that will go bad more quickly then the rest.

You should see the sprouts poking out after a day of growing. A couple days later you'll have recognizable sprouts. Lots more information on the web.

Tourism, Sustainability Attainability on the Fundy Bay?

Earlier this week I attended a conference on Sustainable Tourism hosted by the Fundy Biosphere Reserve. It was a gathering of tourism operators, government officials, town councillors, academia, hikers, and people who care about the area.

It was an opportunity for the Tourism Assoc. of N.B. to release the report entitled:

Upper Bay of Fundy : A World Biosphere Destination
Business Development Strategic and Action Plans

It pointed to areas of growth, tourism trends, and opportunities for the area. Its heavily based on a predicted surge in tourism due to the Fundy Trail Parkway completion in the next few years. And its about how to turn the wave of tourism into jobs.

Gary Clark, who some call "Canada's father of Sustainable Tourism" started each day with an inspiring lecture on sustainability and tourism. He lives true to his vision and demonstrates that sustainable tourism is possible, at the Inn he keeps. The Biosphere he worked to create in Ontario is striving for a sensible balance of conservation, cultural preservation, and tourism. The clear vision he drew in our minds each morning grew muddy throughout the day with talk of jobs, international tourists, and Fundy growth.

The conference left me with a lot to think about. How do we create jobs in an area without greasing the machine with jet fuel? How do tourists (some, the disdain of some locals) affect local pride and use of the Fundy Coast? How do we balance jobs and tourists? Can we all use it? How do we grow pride in our region? How can I personally do my part to expose local people (especially youth) to the wild fragile beauty of this area?

If Sustainable tourism is about reducing our impact on the earth, shouldn't it start by staying at home and learning to love the immensity of our wilds and appreciating our rich cultural heritage? What if instead of advertising overseas, we invested our time and money here. We could generate such a wide diversity of activities (adventurous and cultural) that every local has a life time worth of travelling to do right here in southern NB. Our enthusiasm and pride would draw world wide attention and inspire others to realize their own local potential. After all the best place to be is where you are.

The area's potential is boggling. There is tremendous opportunity for good and bad development. Luckily, the Fundy Biosphere Region has been formed which aims to preserve the area's unique natural and cultural communities. It's a giant first step. My impression is that there is willingness among towns and tour operators to work towards more environmental sound tourism in the area. Yves Gagnon, the interim Chairperson for the FBR, ended the conference with a reminder -You must remember that as individials we are all responsible for the future of this area. We all must do our part to make this region truly sustainable. No one else can do it for us.

http://www.fundy-biosphere.ca/

The FBR, designated by watershed divides actually has a fuzzy boundary. It is happy to include any area willing to adopt its mandate.

Cross Country PowWowder

I headed home last weekend to get a dose of cross country skiing. Perfect powdery conditions gave me an opportunity to reflect on why I love cross country skiing.

Friday night while I was brushing my teeth before bed my mom suggested we take a moonlight ski. Under the bright full moon our shadows were crisp outlines on the sparkling snow. I had "diamonds on the soles of her shoes" playing in my head as we kicked up brilliant crystals of powder. We cruised in the rolling fields behind our house.

Saturday morning I experimented with my dad's old waxed skis. Though a little sloppy in the boot these skis have metal edges and a modern NNN binding. On the hilly fields behind our house I found the speed to cut a few turns. They were short shaky downhill runs, my turns were sloppy, but I couldn't stop smiling at the exhilarating speed I found.

Saturday afternoon, my mom and dad and I went out to Markhamville for a cross country ski party. The Pownings and McKegs maintain miles of trails through their big rolling hills. There were all levels of skiers there so we split among trails described as Easy, Intermediate, and Kamikaze.

The "Kamikaze" trail wound up to the top of the ridge through birch groves, skirted a deep ravine, cut sharp turns through spruce forest, crossed a hill top blueberry field, then finally charged its way down into the Markhamville Valley on a series of fast descents. The 6" of powder provided beautiful glide and was just the right weight to carve cross country skis into. I'll admit I was snowplowing down some of those tight runs.

From the Valley Bottom, rows of hardwood and spruce hills tapered off into the Fundy Highlands. Markhamville is the last settled farming valley before the Fundy Coast.

Climbing back out of the valley to dinner, Dave and I couldn't resist turning our skis around and pointing them down hill. Starting down the long hill I imagined broken bones and was glad that Dave, the ER doctor, was skiing behind me. Luckily the turns came at the top before I picked up more speed then I knew what to do with on three pin cross country skis!

After dinner we gathered together a posse for night skiing on some gentle trails. The moon exploded through gaps of racing clouds lightning. We could feel the wind blowing in warmer weather signaling the end of this week's powder.

Cross country skiing brings me so much happiness in winter. It's a way to escape cabin fever, explore new terrain, play like a kid again, and generate some well deserved heat in winter. It can be fast and wild or slow and gentle. Either way, the smooth rhythm of gliding skis always helps me breathe. My mind becomes calm and my thinking clear. The more I ski the better I feel.

Biosphere Conference

HEY, what a great world!

So instead of having to take a day off work to attend the conference, Fundy Engineering is going to pay me to attend! They were happy to have me going, representing Fundy Engineering and networking with potential clients. Plus pursuing the kind of innovator/progressive work that we find fulfilling.

For the next two weeks I want to absorb everything I can about the Fundy Coast and Sustainable Tourism. If people are actually reading this it'd be great to hear any opinions, thoughts, and ideas you've got about tourism along the Fundy Coast.

My goal is to represent as many people as I can at the conference. I'm all ears.

Backyard Wilderness

Too much Cooking and Climbing not enough writing. This story is a little overdue. It took place on January 10th, 2009.

My mind was blown 4 times today.

First time: My friend calls me in the morning before he comes by to pick me up, "we're supposed to meet them at 8:30 so I’ll pick you up at a quarter after.”

“No way!” my head echoes “it’s only 15 minutes from downtown Saint John? That’s crazy. It’s so close.”

We drive out to a household of climbers, where we load packs, overheat, and talk excitedly. Next we’re out the backdoor crossing a prairie of white river ice. Straight across is Minister’s Face, a tiny cliff in the distance. We walk and talk over the crunchy snow. The sun is brighter than any summer day and air is still.

I keep spinning around to get a grasp on scale, we’ve been walking for 20 minutes and nothing seems to be getting closer or farther away. The white river stretches west into the horizons and east it is backed by dark pointy hills. Straight ahead, Minister’s face is now appropriately sized. We crank our necks back to see cobbly rock like a bookend for the river rising to where the cedars look like match sticks. From the opposite shore the Minister's 300 foot frame was squashed under the giant landscape. Our destination, the ice alcove, is now coming into view. What looked like a smear on the cliff is now a blue and white waterfall of ice, towering 120 feet high - and my mind is blown again.

The experienced ice climbers pick their lines and lead up the ice, attaching the rope to large metal screws they place as they go. Anchors and ropes are fixed at the top allowing newbies like me a chance to climb the routes on top-rope.

It's my second time ice climbing and I fumble uncomfortably with big hard boots and sharp bits attached to all fours. I get pointers, on how to stab my points into the ice. Thwack, shatter, thwack. "Flick your wrist more!" I hear from below, the pick sinks in on the third thwack.

I climb a couple routes, gaining confidence and starting to feeling comfortable on this foreign surface. Half way up the ice I set my feet pull out my pick and can feel my weight resting on two narrow crampon points extending from my toes. My mind fizzles and I huff out a surprised breath. It blows my mind that two little claws are holding my body weight. As I climb the rest of the route the warmth retreats from my hands that are clenched over my head while under my jacket I sweat like its a muggy day in July.

As I reach the top of the ice wall, I hear "Graham, turn around and have a look over the river when you get to the top." Focused on the ice I hadn't noticed dusk creeping in. The ice has turned rosy as I stand under the branches of a cedar tree getting ready to rappel down. When I finally turn around to face the wide river, I feel the fizzle at the base of my skull, a shot of endorphins triggered by what I see. A full moon as rich as a pumpkin rising over dark hills on the far shore.

We hike out in the low dusk light, aiming for familiar lights across the ice, watching one by one as the planets and stars appear.

And we're only 15 minutes from the city.

Fundy Biosphere Reserve Sustainable Tourism Conference

The Fundy Biosphere Reserve Sustainable Tourism Conference

This conference is coming up in two weeks (Feb 16-17) in Moncton. I think it could be quite interesting to see where this group is aiming with sustainable tourism. I would also like to be there to represent low-impact activities that get people moving and breathing outside.

Check it out

http://www.fundy-biosphere.ca/STC_e.html

Hot White Ice

Hats off to the heat! After hiking across the crusty snow and biting wind of the Kennebecasis my circulatory system doesn't know how to handle this sudden heat wave. I reach the base of the ice wall and tear off layers until I hit my woolly long johns. Steam rises off my knees and arms. I get off easy this time, sweat that could have kept me cold all day is sucked up by the cold dry air and I'm left thinking how great it is to be warm on a cold January day.

We're here to ice climb in New Brunswick's backyard wilderness. Mount Misery, as it's called, is an ice climbing area that despite its proximity to Saint John, remained unused until last year. A young energetic climber exploring the shores of the Kennebecasis discovered it near his home last winter. It's an impressive find- two tiers of cliffs covered in steep white ice hold 20 some routes. And at its sheltered base in the forest I spend the day sucking up sun and smashing at ice with the regular crew of local climbers - stoked as always that they have so much ice to climb and find.

I Couldn't think of a place I'd rather be.

Laurent, Thanks for the Photographs!

Running on Fumes

It's not the most popular tour route in Saint John but at 7:30 pm on a January night it gives you a lot to think about. Some time the best tours are the ones you'd avoid if you knew any better. But I didn't, just moved to the city, itching to climb at the gym I thought it would be just a regular jog out to the edge of town.

Across the causeway, along cold water, and cracked sidewalks I ran towards the Community College. The road became less busy, the street lights farther apart, and the sidewalk disappeared. The snow painted black and the air striped with creosote farts. In the night unseen hums churn from the twinkling distillation towers. The dirty secret that warms us as we sleep and drives us to work is actually ... pretty. Lit up like a big Christmas tree the sea of lights give texture to the black sky.

Maybe the fumes aren't the best to breath when exercising in cold air- but this monstrosity of invention and money is pretty damn fundamental to how we live as consumers. In my thermal long underwear and wicking layers, I'm swimming in the belly of the beast. Crunching along the gravelly shoulder, my footsteps pay my respects to this despised piece of land.

Out of the dark I smile at passing drivers hoping to furl brows and ignite curiosity. "What the hell is he doing out here?", " You can jog in the winter?", "Idiot."

I arrive at the climbing gym, in the Community College, to a small group of stoked climbers. It feels great to be among climbers after months of separation. The wall is a good training wall for experienced climbers- even has a couple overhanging sport routes. While out west last summer, the New Brunswick climbing scene percolated in my head. I was anxious to come back and be part of it.

It's hard not to be excited for what's happening here but it's not like this everywhere. This scene is unique and I intend to spend my time getting to know what makes it different.