One of the unintended consequences of spending a lot of time working and travelling in British Columbia – a place of astounding physical terrain – is that one becomes indifferent to attractive, but less dramatic landscapes in other places.
The unavoidable reality is that our minds are constantly comparing. The West Coast with its big mountains and vast forests, elevated in my mind to a sort of gold standard of nature, has worked as a spoiler for other worthwhile spots. Time outdoors, especially in parts of Ontario and Quebec, has sometimes fallen flat.
We’re all familiar with this situation in which bold and sensational things can sometimes drive out the fine: a powerful experience makes such an impact that all else seems to pale in comparison. It can be one of the biggest pitfalls of travel. Some people spend years, or sometimes entire lives, trying to recapture a powerful, but fleeting epoch or life experience that occurred while travelling or living abroad; often to the detriment of the equally important, but less dramatic, day-to-day.
I decided to ditch that addictive and defeatist thinking and get out and appreciate the wilder areas near where I live, in southern Ontario, without feeling the need to place them on some experience scale of the epic and grandiose.
This spring and summer I hiked a few sections of the 900 kilometre long Bruce Trail Conservancy – something I’d never done before. I was hugely surprised. Those daylong rambles were among the nicest and most interesting I’ve done.
I’ve attached here a few Instagram shots of some views along parts of the trail.