Home for a Week!

 Still groggy from a very long hike in Banff I boarded a flight to Moncton. My tiredness evaporated as soon as the plain descended over Moncton. I could see the Petitcodiac River glistening in the sun with the Fundy Highlands rising to the south. And all around a patchwork of farms lay over the dark green forest.

My parents picked me up and we drove home to Corn Hill. I couldn't get over the roadside ditches. They were so lush, overflowing with wildflowers and bright green grass. The heat, humidity, and aroma of a million flowering plants was overwhelming. The dry air in Calgary is quite pleasant but you know it’s kind of sterile. Eating supper on the deck with my parents, we ate dish after dish of fresh homegrown veggies, pastured meats, and then celebrated my birthday with a rich fruit pie.

This wasn't just a vacation for me. I was home to help finish organizing the 2nd Corn Hill Bicycle Festival which was taking place at the end of the week. Joanna Brown and I had spent the spring emailing back and forth and having phone meetings. Now it was only a few days away and there was so much to do. But with last years experience and the help of Lynn the summer student, and volunteers the final preparations went so smoothly. I actually got a vacation out of it! I never expected that.

What a dream week! I don't know how I managed to pack so many things in such short time frame. Not only did the bike fest preparations go smoothly but I had the chance to visit friends from all over NB and spend some quality time at home in Corn Hill with my parents.

What a random coincidence...on a break from working on the bicycle festival I ran into a touring cycling in Downtown Sussex. I saw a heavily loaded bicycle parked outside a restaurant and stood there staring at it when at that moment the rider walked out of restaurant. He'd rode all the way from Washington State. So inspiring. 

On Tuesday I went up to visit my friend Paul in Marysville (next to Fredericton). We've had some great adventures together and it's cool to see what projects he's got on the go. He has a great place with a backyard on the Nashwaak River! So I had my first swim of the season! Wow its feels good to lounge about in warm fast-flowing water. All the lakes and rivers in the mountains are glacier fed...it sounds nice but god they are cold.

 Tuesday night I drove down to Saint John to visit Lucas and Kristy, who brought me into the NB climbing scene years ago. It was great catching up with them and seeing the city that I'd gotten to know when I was starting this blog. After supper we took bicycles out and I had my first crash in years...hit a gnarly crack in the pavement flipped, rolled, and managed to walk away with only a few scrapes...and I was pretty damn sore the next day.

On Wednesday I drove back up river, stopped in to see how things were going at the Bike Fest in Sussex then continued on to Elgin to meet my buddy Dom, a local climber who's been devoting a lot of time to replacing old bolts in Welsford.  I wanted to show him a fun spot in Elgin. Gibson is a cliff jumping spot along the Pollett River just past the village of Elgin. Its beauty is marred by piles of broken beer bottles, trash, and the out-of-town hosers who threw the trash. It's kind of a wreck but I love the place. We jumped in a few times then I showed him a route that a climber had bolted years ago...but had no hangers. We got our gear from the car, installed hangers, and lead the route. It was a short but balancy 5.10. We top roped another cliff and both were impressed by the quality of the rock.

I got home and raced over to a friends' place for supper with my parents. After a great meal it was time to move a load of hay bales into our barn. Its hard work but I love it. It's something that I've been doing for as long as I can remember. When I was young it was so hard to lift the bales into barn.

The next couple days were spent getting ready for the bicycle festival. Lots of errands to run and odds and ends to take care of. Everything just blended perfectly together. While out in the country picking up big tents from the McCullum's I happened to be near Collina and my friend Deanna invited me over to her cabin for brunch. Collina is a lofty high perch overlooking endless rolling hills and pastured valleys north of Sussex.

 Every day at my parents house we ate fresh picked veggies from their garden. My mom is an incredibly skilled gardener. She's been doing it for decades and seems to effortlessly cultivate over 50 varieties of herbs and veggies in her garden. Every year she's trying something new. On Thursday we celebrated my Dad’s birthday with an exceptionally gourmet dinner in the greenhouse.

Saturday came, with no big stresses, and the Corn Hill Bicycle Festival was again a success. Well over a hundred cyclists came out from all over southern NB. I guess the word had gotten out in cyclist circles. There was a great line-up of workshops with Lucas Toron back again with his popular workshop on shifting gears, Bill Consolvo shared useful tips on changing flats and answered questions about long distance touring. John McNair's workshop on basic bike mechanics was packed, and Tim and Dawn put on a great nutrition workshop. The volunteer cooks whipped together a delicious lunch that tasted like it had been made for an intimate few friends rather than a hundred hungry strangers.

This year the amount of cycling spandex rose considerably with about 25 riders on the fast 100km ride and many more avid cyclists on all the rides. But what was amazing was that such a variety of riders came out to enjoy the back roads of Corn Hill. That's what really made me happy - the fact that so many different levels of riders can enjoy being active outdoors with friends. It was really cool seeing so many familiar faces from last year and meeting a whole bunch of new people. Unfortunately I was so busy I didn't get a chance to really talk with many...so many interesting people that I wanted to chat with. The day wrapped up and within record time volunteers had cleaned and packed up. We capped off the day with a cold beer at the Cedar Cafe. Just perfect.

Before I knew it I was heading back to the Moncton Airport. I was pretty sad to be leaving home after such a great week filled with friends, family, and beautiful landscapes. It definitely recharged my NB batteries.
 cornhill bicycle festival, rock climbing elgin, gibson, gordon fall, sussex, fredericton, marysville, cycling, biking

Snowshoeing the Bluff

Snowshoeing last week on the Bluff trail above the Dutch Valley, near Sussex Corner.
 

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Isn't the Bluff Great??

Can you spot the two people?

The Bluff has got to be one of the best hikes around Sussex and Southern New Brunswick. 

A couple weeks ago, when the leaves were still on the trees, I went for a quick hike on the Bluff. For those who don't live around Sussex, the Bluff is a super popular and beautiful hiking trail that follows the ridge of a big rock bluff on the edge of Sussex Corner. You're looking out farms like they are diaramas and in the distance you can clearly make out Poley Mountain.

Just ask anyone in Sussex or Sussex Corner how to get to the Bluff. Everyone seems to know about it!

Looking into the Fundy Highlands. Near the center of the photo you can make out the trails of Poley Mountain. Waterford is nestled into the valley to the left of Poley Mountain.

This gives a good perspective of the bluff - see the two people sitting on the rock?

Friar's Nose in the Fog

Looking over the Parlee Brook Valley from Friar's Nose [CLICK TO VIEW FULL SIZE]

Eddies of fog

 This morning I hiked up to Friar's Nose. Walking as fast as my legs and lungs could muster. I reached the top within half an hour, breathing heavy and sweating in the cool wet air. The wind whipped across the barren summit and fog tumbled across the valley, eddies spinning in the lee side of the ridges.

I put on a sweater and breathed in the refreshing air, looking for familiar landforms across the forested bowl. I come here a couple times a year and yet every time it seems that new ridges and valleys catch my eye. In the winter I search the valleys for blue smears of ice and in the fall I notice the vibrant hardwood stands. Today, the endless sea of green gives the impression that I'm standing on the edge of a vast wilderness.

Fog is a powerful thing. In a way its like the salt on your food, enriching whatever it touches and bringing out subtle details. The dreariest weather can produce the most moving landscapes. And on foggy days like today go to one of your favourite places and see it from a new perspective.

 After running all the way down from the top of the Friar's Nose I was hot and sweaty. That's when I noticed a sweet little pool under the bridge. I can never resist cool moving water (no matter how shallow it is). It was refreshing and a perfect way to end a hike. 

I love dunking myself in cold swift water.

Directions to Friar's Nose.
The Friar's Nose is located outside of Sussex, NB on the edge of the Fundy Highlands. You can find direction in my post from 2008.
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Back on the Bicycle

 Blue Skies in April mean one thing. The April High. Most springs a high pressure system rolls into the North East and teases us with a taste of summer. For most it will mean the first sun burn of the year and the first beers on the back deck. For me it meant getting back on my bicycle.

A couple days ago I got back from my climbing road trip in the Eastern US. In many ways it was a great trip - I met so many wonderful people and I climbed day after day at some of the East's best crags. But I was on the road for five weeks and I drove about 6000 km. So much driving. Heading north on the interstate near New York, in heavy traffic all I wanted was some fresh air and a chance to stretch my legs. That's when I started craving my bicycle.

So since I got home all I could think about was parking my truck and riding my bike. Thanks to the April High Pressure system I was able to get back on my bike right away. My chance came on Tuesday evening when I had plans to visit a friend in Sussex. I left my truck at home and rode into town that the evening.

 

The ride along Route 890 has awesome views, fun hills, and low traffic. But what I find coolest about the ride is this feeling of being funneled down a giant river valley towards Sussex. It's about a 30 km ride which took me about an hour and a half, although it actually feels much shorter. Once you get into the rhythm of pedaling time just slips away.

Mount Pisgah

Loving life

Just Walking to Town - Corn Hill to Sussex on Foot.

I've wanted to walk to Sussex for years. I suppose it all started when I heard stories about ol' Parker Coates. When he was young (we're talking long ago) he'd walk or bicycle into Sussex from Corn Hill for dances on the weekends. That was back when it was an old dirt road with more potholes than you could fill with a dumptruck. Then there is the stories of ol' Joe Dickie walking his cows to the market in Sussex. Nowadays with automobiles, no one walks like they did in the old days. So I thought, what the heck, people have walked long distances since the dawn of time. I might as well give it a try.

I got some maps and planned my route to sussex. The obvious path is to follow the roads but who wants to walk on roads?? So I outlined a route that would take me through the fields and forests of Knightville and over the top of Mount Pisgah. I'd always wanted to hike on top of Mount Pisgah, so why not include it in my trip to Sussex.

I set out from Corn Hill early on Friday morning on snowshoes and by lunch time I had made it to Giermend's German Deli in Knightville. I picked up some deliscious meats for lunch and carried on.

Near the end of the day I climbed onto Mount Pisgah, fought through birch thickets and came out in a gorgeous hollow near a fork in a brook. Exhausted from a couple hours of bushwhacking I decided to set up camp. I put together a simple tarp structure and enjoyed a hot supper as the sun went down.

I feel asleep to the sound of the babbling brook under a canopy of stars. I was awfully cozy that night, snug in my little nest.

Dawn crashed through the trees with an cutting light, but I just put my head deeper in my sleeping bag and kept sleeping. It's nice to sleep in a bit during winter camping to give the sun a chance to warm things up.

I climbed out of the hollow and found myself in a humongous clearcut. The mountain side was totally smoked! "What a disgrace" I thought. But at least you get good views from clearcuts. The sun was high, and in the blue sky I noticed two eagles circling in the thermals. I smashed and cursed my way through the clearcut's thick growth and breathed a sigh of relief when I arrived in an old hardwood forest. From there I could see Smith's Creek, Roachville, Sussex, Sussex Corner, Dutch Valley, and Penobsquis. It was stunning how much higher I was than the surrounding hills.

  Looking over the Sussex Valley. The town is just below the strange black dot.

After a quick lunch in the sun, I was ready for the final push to Sussex. After a steep descent, I hit a forest so thick that I could swim through it. But soon I began encountering a web of woodlot roads which tempted me and soon lead me off track and in the completely wrong direction. I started to realize where I was headed but refused to go back into the choking forest. So I carried on and with a heavy sigh, well actually more like a few F***'s. The wood's road brought me to the Knightville Road near Smith's Creek. I took off my snowshoes, strapped them on my pack and hoofed it the rest of the way to town on the road. Soon I was happy to be on the road. With the warm weather my snowshoes had been balling up with snow some terrible. As well, on the road I got to look up at, the hills I was looking down at from atop Mount Pisgah.

In the hot afternoon sun I arrived in Town and strolled downtown to get a beer at the Broadway Cafe. That was the perfect way to conclude my walk to town. Taking the time to get somewhere always makes the destination a whole lot more rewarding. This walk was probably the most rewarding trip I've done in recent years.

As spring arrives, consider taking a day to leave the car at home and walking to your closest town. Bring a lunch and a friend, and see what that distance feels like. You can follow the country roads, there's no need to contrive a bushwhacking adventure like I did.

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Up the Friar's Nose

Had a great hike up the Friar's Nose in Waterford last Saturday with a group from around Sussex. A year ago around this time I hiked in their by myself after some time away from the area. I wrote about it here. It makes me very happy to once again share this place with more people. It's one of our regions best kept secrets.

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I love the feeling of turning down the Parlee Brook Road into a valley that gets narrower and narrower. The road bringing you startlingly close to the tumbling brook at times. The final squeeze into depths of the valley is darkened by the towering ridgelines until its just you and the clear brook. If you roll down the car window you can hear the brook whisper.

We parked on the bridge near the stone building that is known as the Abbey. From here we climbed Arnold's Hollow Road, that I like to imagine is a relic from pioneer days. The valley's silence is broken as we share stories and talk about doing stuff outdoors in the area.

It's a cool day, overcast and recovering from the previous day's hard rain. Dampness hangs in the air, needling its way into my clothes and keeping me cool. That is until we begin the final steep ascent to the Nose. The path at this point narrows and is washed out at parts. We stop for views into the hidden valley below. I've made many winter trips into the Hidden Valley and it's allure still burns strong.

The wind whips at us as we step onto the rocky platform called the Friar's Nose. In front of us is a rumpled canvas of fall colours, grey, brown, green, and purple. From the Nose you get an unmatched view over the twisted hills of Waterford and the rolling ridgelines of Sussex and Newtown. The well knonw Bluff is visible as a thin strip over the Dutch Valley and over its shoulder rises Piccadilly Mountain. In the distance Mount Pisgah rises like a slow moving wave ready to swallow Sussex. From here you can make out the backside of Poley Mountain and even gain a view of the rocky bluffs that face its lodge.

It's a quick jaunt back to the cars where the wind is silenced by the ridgelines and the brook whispers under the bridge.

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Event Notice: Outdoor You, in Sussex Thursday Nov 19

I would like to invite you to Outdoor You in Sussex on Thursday November 19th at 7pm. It will be held at PALS which is upstairs in the Post Office Building in Downtown Sussex.

As many of you know all too well, November may be one of the gloomiest times of the year for the outdoor enthusiast. The days are short, frost hangs in the air, and rain can quickly turn to snow. But with the right skills, gear, and attitude you can come to enjoy whatever the November Winds throw at you! Plus, Winter's crisp snow and sunny days are just around the corner. Learn what it takes to enjoy the last weeks of Fall while gearing up for Winter Adventures.

This gathering on the 19th of November will bring together people who have a passion for self-propelled outdoors activities in our region. You can share your local trail knowledge, exchange gear tips, and find trip partners in your area. Plus it's an opportunity to learn from several experienced outdoor enthusiasts who will be on hand to share information and inspiration through animated presentations about getting outside in our region. These include presentations on GPS, Winter Sports Around Sussex, Clothing for Cold and Wet Weather, Safety, and more!

The evening is free and everyone is welcome - from folks just getting started to the experienced outdoor enthusiast. Bring the whole family and learn from other parents how to get outside with the young ones.

Hope to See you there!
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Backyard Discoveries

Jo and the Giant Maples

You never know what you'll discover in your neck of the woods.

In this case I wasn't even looking for trees. A friend and I were out for a countryside walk near Petitcodiac when we stumbled into this giant hardwood forest.

Walking into this cathedral like space left us mesmerized. I was in shock. Not only is this forest awe-inspiring it's very close to where I grew up. And I had no idea it existed. I'm pretty sure they are Sugar Maples.

This is a great season for walking. The weather is cool enough to allow jeans and long sleeves which are great when you're bushwhacking in the back 40. In case you haven't noticed, the leaves are starting to change and soon the hardwood forests will be ablaze. People travel from all over the world to see our hardwood hills light up during the fall.

What about you? When was the last time you took a drive out to those golden hills for a walk under the glowing canopy? Or better yet, just cross the road and walk up that ridge line, you know that one that always catches your eye at dusk.

Let's have some fun outside while the landscape is still alive!
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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 :)
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The Not so Hidden Valley.

In to the Hidden Valley twice more this week. I love showing it off to new people. Each time I get to relive my surprise when I first saw that mountainous rock and ice.

Saturday, December 20th.

With enough snow for traction the Connelly's and I were able to get deeper into the 3rd Side valley. Micheal found an iced up waterfall on the left branch above the cascades that I had never seen before. The waterfall was alive underneath its white icy skin. We stopped there to munch on our Christmas cookie ration and soak in that big old forest.

A trip to the Hidden Valley wouldn't be complete without a scramble up the 1st side valley. We walked up the drive stream bed and Bill lead us up some terrifying steep ice through the gully. The ice on the stream was just thin enough to kick foot holds into which was good, but then water started shooting out. The Hanging Pillar was there. But Bill was the only one wiry enough to scramble up to it's base.

Tuesday, December 24th.

By the time I returned with Joanna, Andrew, and my brother Peter, the snow was deep enough to ski in. Despite being Early in the morning on a holiday, spirits were high on the long uphill into the valley. We gave our attention to the 1st Side Valley (behind the Cabin) and worked our way up the somewhat dry river bed. At times up to our thighs in snow, we continued up the increasingly narrow stream valley. As we approached the cliffs we found a giant conical pile of snow that must have been funnelled down a rock chute. Like a miny avalanche! I swam my way through it unable to touch the stream bed below.

We continued up the streep rock passage listening to the water trickle below the ice. Up to our left hung the 15 foot ice Pillar. It must have been as big around as a barrell. We continued up on the iced stream bed until we found ourself in a narrow rock canyon. On one side 30 feet of thick white ice tumbled down into deep piled snow.

In here all sounds Stopped! All that remained was the electric hum of rushing blood and falling snow. It was a surprising juxtaposition to find myself between rock and ice. The permanence of rock, the transience of ice, and me in the middle. Yet we all grow and break down.
We slid back down the gullies on the frozen brook, laughing after leaps of faith that left us intact. Our early start was perfect. As we skied back to the car the snow began sticking like burdocks.

I'm glad the Hidden Valley is a little less hidden after this week. So much land like this to explore near Sussex. I've got some ideas about where to find the next hidden valley.