I wake up in a tent wet with dew. As last night was hot and dry I figured that leaving the rain fly off would be fine. I was wrong yet again. I pack up quickly, find coffee nearby, and do some planning over wifi. I make three nights of reservations at a hotel in downtown Sydney where I will rest, clean, and find a flight back to Toronto. 9:30 I leave in search of transit downtown to Sydney, as North Sydney is 20 kilometres away and I will not be walking it. I feel oddly comfortable choosing to take transit into the city as my primary instinct. The morning is peaceful and calming, quiet, and slow. I have an hour waiting for transit at the North Sydney shopping mall. This is where I meet Charlie. He was curious about how my walk was and said that he was proud of me for completing it. He had worked as a carpenter, co-owning a business with his brother for 35 years. He was interested to chat with, talking in a smooth, relaxed tone. The bus ride from North Sydney into Downtown Sydney—about 20 kilometres—takes about 40 minutes, a distance it would take me over four hours to walk. It provides me the opportunity to see the surrounding area as we drive down country roads along the edge of the water into town. I arrive at the hotel by noon, and as the room is ready I can check in right away, unpack the bag, and organize all gear for cleaning. All broken and used-up gear is discarded. Over the next four days, I will clean and dry out the tent and rain fly to give it all a close inspection. The tub in the bathroom is large and comfortable, and I will hot soak numerous times for over an hour before walking the two kilometres downtown to pick up pizza, beer, and sushi as clothing soaks for cleaning. I will return to the room each day by 4:00. A flight home will be purchased by Wednesday, the final day of my hotel stay. It has taken 71 days to arrive at this spot. I have completed something I have been dreaming of doing for most of my lifetime. It has been a significant experience, and I am looking forward to making a bunch of creative work from the images, writing, and voice memos made over the past two and a half months of exploration. On Monday I walk along the city’s boardwalk, dropping a stone I have been carrying since the first day of this walk over two and a half months ago. The small stone was found on the beach back in Scarborough along the shore of Lake Ontario. This burden, a physical symbol of the many burdens I have been carrying for several years, served as a constant reminder of things I want to change. Carrying this burden for the past 71 days has provided the mental space for reflecting on what I want to progress forward in life. Releasing this burden 2,500 km later into the North Atlantic Ocean has cathartically allowed me permission to let go of many things that have been worrying, angering, and blocking me from moving forward. So that when I enter the plane that would in two hours return me to where I started over two months ago, I feel mentally and physically lighter, with less baggage overall. This accomplishment has reaffirmed many aspects of who I am, and what I am capable of, strengthening my courage for taking on larger and more difficult challenges. I am now ready to move forward.

River Bennet to North Sydney   |   Campsite: 46.21807° N, 60.26832° W

I have decided that today—dependent upon whether I will be able to reach the city of North Sydney—will be my final day walking. One of the main reasons for doing this challenge was to have fun, and I determined that if I stopped having fun, I would stop walking. By the end of today I will have walked 2,570.98 kilometres, from Toronto to North Sydney. I have had both incredible highs and devastatingly grim lows. These past ten days of rain, fog, and wind throughout Cape Breton have absolutely ruined my feet, now covered in painful blisters. I was healthy up to the point I entered Cape Breton, and that was the point at which this incredible experience lost all of its magic. Today I try to reach out for help. I try to get a ride to Sydney by asking people for a ride. I try hitch-hiking. I stopped counting after watching 150 cars pass. Miraculously, one car does stop. There is a couple inside, driving around the east coast sightseeing after participating in a conference in the city of Halifax. They are both professors, teaching in the faculty of business at a university in upstate New York. They live between the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains and Lake Champlain. He tells me he recently completed a ten-day hike through the mountains, and I believe this was the reason he decided to stop and help me. So over 150 Canadians ignored my asking for help, but an educated couple from the USA recognized my need. The ride the couple gives me saves close to 20 kilometres. They let me out when we arrive at the Trans-Canada highway, as they will be turning right in order to travel to the city of Baddeck, and I will be turning left to walk the remaining 39 kilometres to the city of North Sydney. Along a construction site where crews are installing new guardrails along the highway, two flagmen give me some water, and I take the opportunity to ask about the upcoming road. I am thankful I take the water offered as the day is projected to heat up to the point where I will filter water from a number of streams along the walk. Another moment of grace would come at exactly the right moment as I was preparing to walk across a massive bridge just east of New Harris Settlement. A small car slows to a stop and a woman warns me that I can’t walk across the bridge. I say that I have no choice and that I have to cross, at which point she says “Hop in.” Her name is Joanne. She lives in the area and has lived here for over 30 years. She has helped a number of hikers across the bridge and has mentioned that she has met many people walking and cycling across Canada this year. She says the bridge used to have a pedestrian sidewalk but it was removed in order to make more room for vehicles. Thus, walking across the bridge has now been made illegal, and very dangerous as it is clear no space is available for pedestrians. Hills are climbed as the afternoon heats up. At 2:00 I stop to eat with 15 km left to walk. Later I stop briefly for cold lemonade ten kilometres out of town. I briefly get turned around, walking 1.5 kilometres down the wrong road, and have to retrace my steps. By 4:30 I reach the Atlantic Superstore in North Sydney, and by 5:00 the tent is up as I have found a great place to camp for the night in a forest just behind a shopping development. Getting off my feet and slipping into an exhausted, painful sleep feels outer worldly, and I am grateful and confident that I have managed to complete this incredible challenge over these past 70 days. I feel that I can confidently end this effort and reflect upon what I have seen, the people I have met, the place that I have experienced, and the strength that I have fostered over the past 2,500 kilometres of exploration.

Today’s distance walked: 52.37 km    |    Total distance walked: 2,570.98 km

Cape Smokey to River Bennet   |   Campsite: 46.34946° N, 60.53546° W

The rain stopped sometime overnight. I begin walking by 5:45. Everything is soaked and cold, but after I get walking the clothing and gear warm up. I climbed about 3/4 of Smokey Mountain’s 357 metres yesterday, so only about a half hour is spent ascending. Thick fog hangs everywhere. The past three days of walking in both wet boots and socks are now producing very painful blisters. At one point I need to stop, sitting on a guard rail to drain and bandage the affected areas of my feet. I stop at the Wreck Cove General Store to rest, cook food, and buy coffee and snacks to get me through the next two days. I meet the owner, Brent, who moved here five years ago from Toronto. He has already seen much change in the weather, mentioning that the fog and rain are unnaturally persisting this long into the summer season. He gives me his business card in case I get into trouble or require help. I walk to 12:30, stopping at the Clucking Hen Bakery and Cafe. There is internet but like everywhere here it doesn’t work. Unable to post anything online to the blog, check upcoming weather conditions, or map any of the upcoming terrains, I venture back out to pull in more distance. I do know that there is an airport in the city of Sydney up ahead—I am beginning to think that flying to Toronto from Sydney is the newly-emerging plan. I am not sure if I’ll be able to fly to Toronto directly, but I believe that I should be able to connect from Halifax. Leaving at 1:30 I walk to River Bennet by 3:30 where there is access to a ferry that will save a lot of time and distance from having to walk around a number of bays of water connected to St. Anns Harbour. I have been told that a large sign will indicate where to turn for the ferry, and that a sign system will indicate whether the ferry is running or not. When I arrive, the sign indicates that the ferry is most definitely not running. If I was deflated before, I am now shocked into a form of inaction, unsure of what to do. I don’t know whether to keep walking or stop and camp here in order to give the ferry the night and the chance to continue working again. At this point, all I want is to get out of Nova Scotia, as it seems that everything is breaking down: my body is sore and my feet are so swollen with blisters every step is painful; the lack of any cell signal prevents any form of mapping or anticipating weather conditions; there isn’t any ferry or bus service available to help me to the city of Sydney. The only thought running through my mind is that I just need to get to Sydney, heal, and while healing book a flight out of here to Toronto. I decide to camp the night behind a church, as the day is getting late. This I justify as an opportunity to give my ailing feet a rest, and also to afford the ferry some time to begin running tomorrow. The tent is up by 3:45. As I am relaxing, a man and woman walk up to the tent. As members of the community, they were checking up on the church and saw me camped out in the backyard. I talk to them for a few minutes. They tell me that the ferry has been out for two days. It normally operates 24 hours a day, so I will know in the morning if it is working or not. They tell me that if I am out on the road by 8:00, as tomorrow is Friday, I may be able to catch a ride with someone traveling to Sydney for work. Many people in the area travel daily into the city, and they say my chances should be good for flagging down a ride. The man mentions that the area I am currently camping in has poor cell coverage and that I will most likely not find any signal until I arrive at the Trans-Canada highway 20 kilometres away. Sydney from that point is a further 40 kilometres. The grimness of my situation suddenly dawns on me, but at least this gives me a few things to think about as I give my feet much-needed aid for over an hour. I settle in for the night, trying to understand how something that was preceding so well has completely fallen apart here in this wet, rainy province. One thing is certain—I will never come here again.

Today’s distance walked: 37.83 km    |    Total distance walked: 2,518.61 km

“You, too, have to learn how to fight the good fight. You have already learned to accept the adventures and challenges that life provides, but you still want to deny anything that is extraordinary.” – Paulo Coelho, “The Pilgrimage”, pp. 52–53.