Glenwalter to Bainsville   |   Campsite: 45.17705° N, 74.41024° W

I wake into the cold zero-degree morning of 4:00 and snooze until 5:00. GreensPlus, powdered milk, and a granola bar are eaten. Clean cookware. Begin to stretch and change into walk clothing. By 6:30 the bag is packed and I am moving east down Highway 2 that, over the upcoming 12 km to Summerstown hugs the shoreline of the St. Lawrence River very closely. So much so, that the houses perched on the thin strip of land between the roadway and the shore literally push the structures right up to — and in some instances — out over the water. I take a short 20-minute break at a place called Cameron’s Point, where I cook a pot of noodles at 10:20 am. As I am eating, a man drives out of the camp, stops, rolls the window down, and asks if I am going fishing. I tell him I have walked from Toronto and am walking to St. John’s. “Tabarnak!” he says with a big smile, waving as he drives off. Just as I am finishing up, a truck drives up, a guy jumps out with a weed wacker, and begins to disturb the beautiful and peaceful quiet of nature with obnoxious sounds of machinery. I pack up and continue on. I notice a knot in the muscle behind my left knee and take a few moments to stretch it out. Another half-hour down the road I notice a perfect, undamaged tiny robin’s egg lying directly in the centre of the gravel shoulder of the road. I imagine some animal attempting to eat it but having to abandon the effort for some surprise or disturbance. I pick it up, keep it warm in my gloved hand, and carry it with me five kilometres to the upcoming small town of Lancaster. As luck would have it, there is a veterinary clinic on the north side of Highway 401, but when I arrive at 11:30, a sign posted to the door informs me that the office is closed for lunch until 1:00. Return to the McDonalds I had walked by a half-hour ago to charge the Fitbit and the battery bank. I journal the day from yesterday afternoon up to the present. I get all files backed up and call to ensure that the vet clinic is open when 1:00 rolls around. I pack up, have all bottles refilled with water, and walk north retracing my steps back to the veterinary clinic. A sweet woman greets me. I explain what I’ve found, and she explains that their clinic doesn’t deal with birds. She would send me to another clinic one town down the highway but it is not the direction I am moving. I ask if perhaps she could drop the egg off on her ride home, but she says that she lives in the opposite direction. I propose that perhaps another employee from the clinic might be able to, and she says that there is someone who will be able to bring it by the clinic where there is an incubator. She tells me that she will keep the egg warm until delivered. I feel good about this outcome. I’m not sure if the unhatched creature has survived the night as it was quite cold, but if it has, it will have much better chances of surviving in an incubator than out on a cold highway. Go, little dude! A quick stop for pints, and then I am walking east down Old Highway 2, this time north of the 401. I am glad I am up here—the view is good, and there are some beautiful farms along this route. I pass a man working for an electric utility. I ask if he knows of any public land up ahead on which I might camp for the night. We talk for a few moments, and he asks where I am off to. I explain the challenge. “If you ever get the chance, it’s the best way to see the country.” “Good one!” he replies, laughing. I walk along Highway 2 for close to two hours, finding a great spot on a manicured piece of grassland under a wide and full tree. The sliver of land sits between an on-ramp passing overtop of the highway and an access road. I set the tent up facing westward, taking advantage of the wide tree’s branches thick with leaves for shade. The tent goes up quickly. I leave all windows open to allow a gentle breeze to flow through the screening and dry out the tent interior. Cook dinner, take photos, enjoy a pint, record a voice memo, and pack everything into the tent. Clean. Change. By 5:15 I am relaxing on the air mattress journalling out the day. It has again been a very good day walking, with a few interesting events. A nice easy breeze is waving around, exciting the grass and wildflowers into dance. I was thinking about how everyone must have dreams of doing something they innately know they must do. This is what I have been dreaming about for a very long time. I knew that I had to do this, or risk becoming bitter and angry over not achieving a personal dream. I am so thankful and grateful that I have decided that now is the time. Of note: at 6:45 a police car rolls up. The officer is checking up on a call received by a local resident concerned about seeing a tent set up close to the highway. The officer mentioned that it was alright to stay the night in my present spot, and as I explained that I will only be spending the night, he didn’t see this as a problem. He wished me well and drives off down the highway.

Today’s distance walked: 32.43 km    |    Total distance walked: 530.34 km