Nackawic to French Village | Campsite: 45.95253° N, 66.84258° W
The morning begins smoothly, and I am out onto the road taking me back out to Highway 102 from the town of “Nackawic”, and shifting into my walking gear of 5 km per hour. I cross the bridge to the south side of the river and become acquainted with the quiet, peaceful Highway 102. Much of the morning is spent in reflection upon a few things: simplicity, strength, needs versus wants, portability, nomadism, and having everything I need to survive. This simplicity has brought me levels of happiness and fulfillment that I’ve not experienced before, and it has me returning to interests centred on “van life”, more nomadic lifestyles, and minimalism. I break for twenty minutes at 9:00 to cook a serving of rice and ramen noodles. By 9:20 I am back out walking. A brief shower falls, but this will be the only rain I will experience between now and a 12:30–1:30 break for a “Denny’s” lunch located at a gas station and rest area just off of the Trans-Canada Highway. I finish up, acquire a few pints for later, and set out. Jean was a bike-packer I met on Highway 102 six hours after leaving Nackawic at 11:30 earlier that morning. He explained that a bike trip of this magnitude was something that he was dreaming of doing over his retirement. His work (and wife) had allowed him three weeks of vacation time, and he decided that now was his opportunity for an epic bike trip. We discussed our trips so far, how our weather and independent camping experiences were going, and how our overall progress was unfolding. He mentioned that he had read a note I had left in a book back in a tiny little chapel in Québec (Day 29, Saturday, June 3, 2023). He did not give himself a set itinerary, and so was making his adventure up as he rode. He did say that he would like to see the province of Nova Scotia, and even St. John’s in Newfoundland if possible. A very welcoming and approachable man, he was a pleasure to talk with, and a nice laid-back person to communicate and share ideas with. I watch him pedal up the hill and over the horizon after we say goodbye and wish each other good luck. Amusingly, we would see each other once again—him exiting, me entering the gas station with Denny’s restaurant attached. Upon seeing me he exclaimed with a big smile, “I saw wine for sale and I wanted a bottle for the evening!” I respond, “I was thinking the same thing!” We share a laugh at the entrance to the store, and then he pedals off once again. I find a table at the restaurant, deciding to have a warm lunch. This is where I met Chris, Steven (his son), and Marilyn (Chris’ mother). They were a family moving from Ontario to New Brunswick, with today being their move-in day. This meal that they were enjoying would serve as their final one on the road between homes before becoming permanent residents of New Brunswick. My server at the restaurant was incredible, informing me which side add-ons were overpriced, and which meals were the most tasty and filling. I had a nice conversation with her also and wished I had asked her for her name, as she had a number of interesting questions about my walk. I am out into the day again by 1:30 after acquiring some tasty pints. On the highway, the driver of a cement mixer truck pulling out from a side road leans out of the window and asks if I need a lift. I say no, that I am walking to St. John’s, and he gives me a thumbs-up gesture as he drives off in the direction I am moving. I walk until 5:30. I spot a patch of land with relatively short grass, and trees for cover from the highway. As I don’t see any “private property” signs, I duck into the space to quickly set up the tent. And breathe… Today I walk longer than intended—close to 52 km. While sore and exhausted, I begin to feel better when I realize that the city of Fredericton (and three days of rest) is now only 16 km away. I will be in this city by 9:30 tomorrow morning to catch up on rest, eat fresh food, visit the much-anticipated “Backtrails” hike equipment store, explore the city, wash / repair / replace damaged gear, perform some foot care, decompress, and reflect upon what I have achieved so far! Clean, journal, read, and plan out tomorrow morning’s walk, as well as the three nights and four days I will enjoy in the city. This is by far the most important and re-affirming challenge that I have ever done, and am incredibly happy to have walked this far!
Today’s distance walked: 51.70 km | Total distance walked: 1,617.70 km
Northampton to Nackawic | Campsite: 45.98441° N, 67.24205° W
In the area of “Northampton” no rain fell throughout the night. Nothing. The temperature was warm enough to sleep in base layers—no fleece or down puffy required. I wake at 4:00 and begin preparing for the day. With all dry gear ready, my mood instantly elevates. The walk along Highway 105 is largely incident-free, without much to comment on as fog hides most of the surrounding landscape. By 10:00 I am hungry, but I haven’t seen any public amenities along the highways such as rest stops or scenic lookouts providing public picnic tables or benches. I have only seen them at gas stations. So, a low point is had when I have to sit on a guard rail along a curve in the road to cook my lunch on the highway shoulder—it is not enjoyable. By 11:30 I reach the bridge at “Southampton”. Today I will be walking four km into the town of “Nackawic” for water and a few food supplies. The walk to the grocery store seems at the time to be more trouble than it is worth. The road into town contains many hills. As I am still recuperating from yesterday’s mid-50 km walk, and today’s wet feet made from walking through hours of fog and mist, I am feeling exhausted and grumpy. I find a recently-cut field of grass with good cover to duck into and put the tent together in. I keep the rainfly off—it will go on when the rain begins as I am enjoying the breeze blowing through the tent. Cell signals are low as I am unable to get “The Weather Network” up for the upcoming forecast. So, I rest, journal, read, eat, and drink, intent on staying put for the rest of the day. There are 64 km left to walk into the city of Fredericton. With two days to make the journey, I am thinking of making 40–45 tomorrow (Thursday), leaving 24–19 km for Friday. The reduced distance will provide more time to explore the city and arrive at the hotel for early check-in. This also helps in cleaning hike clothing and repairing gear. I demolish a box of Cheese-its, drink a bottle of wine, inhale a bottle of Sunny D, and finish off the rest of yesterday’s family-sized salad. I sleep for an hour before being woken by a voice outside. “Hello? Hello?” It was the groundskeeper. Apparently, the feild I was currently on belonged to a church. We talk for a few minutes. She doesn’t seem angry and is not aggressive. She leaves without a word, and I spend a full night catching up on sleep—much-needed sleep.
Today’s distance walked: 36.80 km | Total distance walked: 1,566.00 km
“Don’t make a torture out of this exercise, because it wasn’t meant to be that,” said Petrus. “Try to find pleasure in a speed that you’re not used to. Changing the way you do routine things allows a new person to grow inside of you. But when all is said and done, you’re the one who must decide how you handle it.”
– Paulo Coelho, “The Pilgrimage”, p. 38
Florenceville-Bristol to Northampton | Campsite: 46.06034° N, 67.55091° W
Sleeping right next to the trail is usually my favourite way to camp. The mornings are so much more interesting because once the pack is fully prepared, the walking begins immediately. 5:15 I am walking south down “The Great Trail” through trees, ferns, fog-filled meadows, and farm fields alongside the river bank. I am excited about today’s walk for a number of reasons, mainly being able to walk another section of this amazing trail! Not having to deal with highways and traffic is a real privilege. Also, today is different from the previous few days in that I will be passing through a town 15 kilometres down the road where I’ll have the opportunity to stop for a rest, coffee, snack, and time to journal. The temperature his morning on the trail through to the town of “Hartland” has been mild, rising to 19 degrees by the time I arrive. The forecast for the rest of the day appears to be clear, with rain projected to fall this evening, continuing until I reach the city of Fredericton Friday mid-morning. Twenty minutes of rest is enjoyed before the pack is organized and I am back out by 9:20 walking southbound in search of an access point to rejoin the trail and to photograph the covered bridge which I could clearly see from my seat at the coffee shop. As I was leaving, I was approached by a man sitting at the next table. Alison and his wife Charity begin a conversation with me about the walk, and they pass on some good information about the trail southbound to the town of “Woodstock”. They wish me good luck, saying to be sure to view the covered bridge before leaving town. I walk down, and snap a number of shots—the structure is wild—all wood, all angles, all aged beautifully. I buy some fruit at the market, and when I ask about the trail ahead, the cashier points across the street to speak with Erica at the tourism information office. She ultimately cautions me from walking the trail section from “Hartland” to “Woodstock” southbound as a pair of cyclists a few days prior informed her that the trail had been washed out a few kilometres south of town. So, I take Highway 105, which is fine, because traffic is light and the road holds beautiful views of the river at every turn. Only, the road is full of hills, and in the rising temperature of the afternoon, it becomes a workout. Kevin was a man driving a car that slowed to a stop, asking if I would like a ride. After explaining my story, he looked at me with a smile and asked, “So you’re out here on purpose?” I say yes, that I wasn’t expecting this road to be so full of hills, and that I was here because the road was recommended over the trail. He called me over and gave me a small fold-out pamphlet of “The 100 Best One-Line Jokes”. I thank him, and he replies “God bless” before driving on. A big, friendly man with a full, impeccable beard, and a nice manner of conversing. After hills, sun, humidity, and distance, I make it to the town of “Woodstock”. After climbing a massive hill into town, I invest in a family-sized Greek salad, inhaling it on a green area under trees alongside the grocery store parking lot as I enjoy a few cold pints. I then walk over to a coffee shop to access wifi. This is where I met Jody who moved to town from Winnipeg after living there for over 50 years. We talk about travel, risk-taking, the culture of communities, and doing big things. She is calming to talk with, and I felt immediately peaceful with her demeanour. After mapping out the next three days of walking to Fredericton, I leave, walking toward the 105 highway southbound. I had found online a cemetery about 15 km from town and figured I would try to reach it by sundown. The road is again quite hilly and has me working hard. By 7:30, about a km before the cemetery, I come across a community recreation centre that is closed for the day. It is surrounded by landscaped lawn and good coverage from the road. I set up the tent, make a meal of rice, and then I am settled inside by 8:00 to prepare for the evening. I journal out the day, get some reading in, and psychologically prepare for the upcoming three days of rain as I walk the final 90 km into Fredericton.
Today’s distance walked: 56.86 km | Total distance walked: 1,529.20 km
“Time is what keeps things from happening all at once.”
– “The 100 Best One-Line Jokes”, a gift from Mike who I met while walking today
