Kingston to Gananoque | Campsite: 44.33620° N, 76.13019° W
I wake early after the first sleep I’ve had in a bed in seven days. Back up files, input a few expenses into Numbers, pour a hot bath, soaking achy bones. When 7:00 am rolls around I descend down to the hotel restaurant to enjoy the included breakfast. Journal while checking email. LinkedIn. Medium. By 7:30 am, refueled and feeling good, I head back up to the room to enjoy another hour and a half of hot water. The morning is beautiful—sunny and crisp, with a pure azure sky. I load the upcoming ten destinations and 200 km into the weather app to better anticipate climatic conditions ahead. The forecast looks clear up to a town called Prescott where rain is projected to fall on Tuesday. Dress and set off for Trailhead by 9:20 am. Josh downstairs on the gear level sets me up with everything I need, and both Hailey and Emma help me select the best, most effective Patagonia shirt and pant combination for the type of walking I’ll be heading into. As the current pants and shirt I am wearing are close to falling apart with over 37 individual hand-made mends with needle and thread, I can’t wait to try out the new replacements! I walk the gear to the hotel, then head out to buy ramen, granola bars, and a bottle of Poweraid from Food Basics. I continue on to BulkBarn for some trail mix and dry snacks. Return to the room to pack everything up. I receive the expected “You were supposed to be cleared out of the room 45 minutes ago” phone call from the main desk. I leave extremely late after the checkout deadline, and begin to walk east. The walk is beautiful—such pretty countryside out here surrounding Kingston and into the next town of Gananoque. I reach it by 4:00 pm, have a good look at the town, and as I am picking up pints at the beer store, I ask the guys working there about good, free places to camp for the night. They both instantly recommend The Parkway—a two-lane road running directly along the stretch of coastline between Gananoque and the next town of Brockville. Supposedly, as I discussed with Brenda and Tim outside in the beer store parking lot, the Parkway was intended to serve as the first phase of the massive 401 east-west highway, but later was reconsidered as a slower, more quiet and ecologically safe route built at a much smaller scale for single-lane traffic. They both highly recommend I walk the Parkway instead of Highway 2, as the Parkway offers legal camping all along the stretch running for the upcoming 55 km. We have a very good 20-minute conversation about the area, and I set off with a much better feeling about the next two days of walking! The Parkway will be a much more scenic route that hugs the water and turns out to be shorter in distance to Brockville. I walk to the Starbucks located on the western border of the area, where I copy and back up photos, refill all water containers, and set out to find camping along the route. I find one after about a half hour of walking. It is nestled among trees and is far enough from the intermittent traffic to be comfortable and quiet. I set up the tent, cook dinner, and wave at all the vehicles passing with drivers honking their horns, waving, or giving me the thumbs-up sign. This is a very special, beautiful place, and a wonderful evening. What a day this has been—the best one so far!
Today’s distance walked: 37.91 km | Total distance walked: 329.85 km
“I would move to Port Hope, Cobourg, Kingston, or Gananoque in a second! I have been living in Toronto for so damned long. It has been so incredible to get out of Toronto and finally get back to Canada!”
Morven to Kingston | Hotel: Confederation Place Hotel, 237 Ontario Street, Kingston
I wake at 4:30 am. First of all, this is the latest I have slept so far during this walk, and the sleep was needed. I think that I am still absolutely wrecked from yesterday, but after breakfast is eaten (a cup of GreensPlus, a cup of powdered milk, trail mix), after I begin to move around organizing gear, and after stretching, I realize that my body had repaired itself effectively over the night. Lesson: the body will fix itself if given the opportunity. The bag is packed by just after 6:00 am, and I am walking down a very pretty stretch of Highway 2 before long. I reach a small town called Odessa by 8:00 am. This is a great sign—11 km by 8:00 are great numbers to be reaching, completely opening up the afternoon for more frequent rest stops, snacks, and even slowing down the pace if desired. I push through, with Kingston beginning to materialize far off over the horizon. There are some beautiful marshes and grassland areas along this stretch of highway with the calls and songs of many creatures. A long, steep climb has me lying down in the grass under the shade cast from a young Maple tree growing in a well-manicured park when I reach the top of the hill. Ten minutes I am back out, and in 30 minutes I am relaxing in the climate-controlled interior of a Loblaws grocery store. Fruit. Pepperettes. One cold, cold pint, and a 45-minute rest with some journalling made before heading back out to finish off the remaining 10 km into Kingston. A woman named Denise approaches me on the sidewalk, walking with trekking poles. She stops me, and we share stories. Hers is that she’s walked the Camino de Santiago four times, taking different routes each time. She prefers to walk alone, as she says it provides more opportunities to meet new people. She and her husband will be traveling to St. John’s next month. I joke that maybe I’ll see her there. Two hours later I arrive at the lovely motel, where unbeknown treasures await. Today is wonderful—bright, sunny, with a refreshing breeze. This is a reminder that each day is so much different than the previous! I walk through a nice, new area of town, then through an older one currently experiencing new building developments in various stages of construction. An hour of walking brings me to “Trailhead”, an amazing store. The upper floor is focused on clothing, while the lower floor focuses on gear, with a split level between the two serving as entrance and check-out. I have a brief discussion with staff in both areas, letting them know what I am looking for, and that I’ll return tomorrow morning to pick up what I need. Some much-needed upgrades are needed, and it looks as though I’ll be able to pick up most—if not everything—I need here. Walk to the hotel with a lovely six pints acquired along the way, taking a few photos of newly-risen architecture. I check in, the room is ready, and I elevator up. 1:30 I am officially a temporary resident of wonderful Kingston. So excited, happy, and grateful to be here seven days into this walk. This evening in a hotel will serve as part rest and part celebration. I fill the tub with warm water and immerse the clothing to soak for a few hours. I watch a SportsNet rebroadcast of a Carolina-New Jersey playoff game, watching as I input recent expenses into a Numbers file. Upon scouting the neighbourhood on Apple Maps I discover a Food Basics and a BulkBarn within three blocks, and these will serve well for restocking the food bag for the upcoming stretch between Kingston and Montréal. I find a Cambodian restaurant around the block, and duck out into the 5:30 late afternoon to pick up two dishes: one composed of beef and vegetables, the second of chicken, shrimp, and rice—both of which are tasty, filling, and pleasurable to eat. It was interesting to talk to the owner while ordering. He was saying how difficult it has been operating over the course of the pandemic. They are still running, and making a go of it, and he is pleased to have survived such a hard time for his business, the most difficult in his 17 years of operation. A few more pints are acquired just to be on the safe side, and I return to the hotel. Eat. Steadily wash all of the clothing, hand-washed in the tub and hung to dry around the room—using the heater cranked up to high to help expedite the process. All new photos are backed up to the external hard drive, with voice memos recorded over the day. Some strategic snoozing is then enjoyed made with one eye open to the game, leading to one of the best sleeps humanity has ever enjoyed.
Today’s distance walked: 36.81 km | Total distance walked: 291.94 km
Reflection on Week 1
• Thankful for the training made for this effort over winter.
• Waiting for a window of good weather was a great decision to make before beginning — a full week with only a few millimetres of rain having fallen overnight.
• Beginning to learn strategies for water refilling, finding and setting up in free camping spots, and setting up / pulling down tent quickly and effectively to get walking and sleeping earlier.
• Planning ahead: it is very helpful to understand distances to towns and the amenities each of them contain.
• Meeting interesting, caring, inquisitive people!
• Using free coffee cards collected for this specific purpose are wonderful daily treats.
• Feeling strong, walking consistently longer than ever before.
• Realizing the importance of taking breaks and drinking water periodically.
• Knowing when to hustle in order to open up future comfort and relaxation.
• Experiencing the importance of small victories, larger celebrations, and more major milestones experienced along the journey.
Belleville to Morven | Campsite: 44.23749° N, 76.84264° W
I don’t think I get a wink of sleep all night. The green space camped in last night was actually a good one: close to the route and well-hidden. It was the large industrial building just to the east of my location that kept me awake. There was a machine that made loud sounds (similar to a gun being fired) every minute, either intended to scare away animals or to disturb homeless people enough to force them to leave the area—either way, the intention was fairly inhuman. Begin to prepare for the day by 4:00 am, and by 5:00 I am at the coffee shop across the street to fill up the water bottles, check my email, and charge the laptop. By 5:45 I am out walking. Highway 2 takes me to a very small hamlet called Shannonville. From here I transfer onto York Road, a route that connects Highway 2 back onto itself after taking a 90-degree left turn north. I follow York Road as it continues eastbound, saving time and reducing distance. It also runs through a town 27 km down the road called Deseronto where I should be able to refill water. I arrive after a walk in which I was chewed apart by a revolting number of flies. Eventually, I had to hang my bandana down from my hat fully wrapped around my head to find any sort of relief from them. Anyway, I will never walk that road ever again. I find a nice small park downtown by 11:00 and decide to stop at this location to cook lunch. During the last hour of walking, I was very close to not having fun—just frustrated at not having any defense against the pests. By 11:30 I am cleaning cookware, followed by a quick stretch. Off by 11:35. The walk to Napanee is a grind! The sun is hot and bright, and there is not much cover to hide from it. But I push on, enjoying this stretch infinitely more than the fly-infested one now behind me. It dawns on me as I enter Napanee that I could see a doctor here instead of in Kingston, as this will free up more time to get to the hotel as early as possible to rest and launder clothing. The reason for a doctor’s visit is due to a burgeoning case of poison something: poison ivy, poison oak, poison turnip. I arrive at the hospital, inquire at the emergency wing, and they confirm that they are able to see me, right away in fact. By 2:24 I am seated in a patient room awaiting the doctor. I have also taken the opportunity to fill up all bottles at a filling station here in the hospital with clear, cold water. The wait for a doctor is longer than desired, but I am still grateful to have the opportunity to attend to this issue sooner than later. At 4:20 the doctor enters for a chat, and by 4:52 I am submitting a script to the pharmacy for Prednisone and a few tubes of skin cream. I am again walking, this time with the strongest 95% I am able to give for another eleven kilometres down the highway. I have a location in mind, and in order to arrive before dark I need to turn the jets on, even after a full day already of walking. A big, steep hill greets me ascending up out of town at a gravity-defying angle. At the top of the hill, a chorus of flies awaits me with a greeting of constant swarming, harassing me the entire distance to the camp area. I again wrap my bandana around my head and cinch it under my hat to keep it in place, sealing off access as tightly as possible. With two kilometres left to walk, I am feeling absolutely drained, with nothing left in the tank. I arrive at the cemetery, which has no bordering fence, and I am able to find a wonderfully flat and manicured area to lay down the tent. The evening is descending, and as the area is completely quiet and still, there is no chance of being discovered. Today was a tough day, beginning without sleep last night, only to slide steadily downward—a day without much fun. I don’t eat any dinner. I read for a few minutes, but mostly, I just need sleep. Tomorrow will be a different day.
Today’s distance walked: 49.9 km | Total distance walked: 255.13 km
“And miles to go before I sleep.”
– Robert Frost, Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
