Walking Through Wayne Johnston’s backyard

I left you a few days ago admiring the humpback whale that came uncomfortably close to our small boat. A bit scary, but magic too.

Next up was the Flamber Head Path where we saw a lone seal, a seriously phallic mushroom, a grumpy man’s profile and ate our lunch in the upscale Cliff’s Edge Cafe, where lattes are available. Other than the magnificent rock at Flamber Head — wow — and a great stretch of heath near Cape Neddick, we spent too long buried deep in the black spruce forest amid rocks and roots and sheep’s laurel. Not my favourite of the trails along the ECT, but I was in good company with my friend Ute and the couple from Quebec City who had also signed up for the Brown Rabbit Cabin’s 6-day hiking package. It was fun to have company as they would be leaving me the next day. I’d be walking solo again.

The ECT publishes a great set of maps. Each “path” has one or, if the trail is a longer one, two maps that give wonderful details, including all the shipwrecks along the coast. It’s startling to see how many there were.

Equally interesting are the names given to each and every bay, gulch, headland, cove, river and stream. Clearly, Newfoundlanders like naming things. This hike included Hares Ears Point where there were Big Hares Ears and Little Hares Ears, and lest you think they are just names, they are actually pairs of rocks that look somewhat like hares’ ears — sort of. In addition, in this short, 6.4 kilometre hike, were Lower Soapy Cove, Soapy Cove Island and Upper Soapy Cove, Horse Gulch, Pork Point and, colourfully, Shitting Gulch. Apparently, shitting is how the word “shooting” sounds with a Newfoundland accent. Hmmm.

The photo above is of Brigus South, a small village where more boats are abandoned onshore than floating in the water. It’s sad to see these once vibrant fishing villages so silent and empty.

Continuing on my own, I got up early to complete the 20+km Cape Broyle Head Path. It was a glorious hiking day. Sunny, but only about 20 degrees with a good breeze. Rated “strenuous,” I was a bit freaked out by this trail as there was no turning back once you began, no road out if you ran into trouble. As it turned out, it wasn’t as strenuous as I’d expected and I ran into a dozen other hikers, seven of them a group of men from Colorado and Washington State who were also staying at the Brown Rabbit Cabins.

The pair of photos above are of the Top of the Cape (Broyle). This entire trail was beautiful, but the views from atop the Cape and the climb down were breathtaking. The first of the two photos above are looking south over Ferryland. You can make out the lighthouse on the island if you look closely.

The second photo of the big hill is the top of the cape looking up at it from below. I took the first photo from that little notch.

For hikers who don’t like to climb, I’m pretty sure the climbs up and down this hill were the longest of the trail (or the parts I walked). There was one other longish climb on the trail between Blackhead and Ft. Amherst, but that was it. For those of you who followed me on the Alpe Adria last summer in Europe, you should know the ECT wasn’t nearly as challenging as that mountainous route.

From atop the Cape, it was a long, 4.5km climb down into Calvert, but it wasn’t very steep and the views just kept getting more sensational.

At the end of the Cape Broyle hike, I moved into the Inn on Caplin Bay in Calvert. The photo is of my precious little cabana called The West Wing. You can’t tell from the photo, but the view from my mini apartment was of Calvert Bay. One evening we spied humpback whales swimming by. Kevin served a fabulous breakfast and he kindly chauffeured me to the Squid Jigger for dinner most night and to and from the trail head and trail end. It was fabulous service and Kevin, who grew up in Calvert, was an amazing host.

Kevin had alerted me to the show put on in Sullivan’s Songhouse, which happened to be next door. He booked me in for the 3pm show on Saturday as they only perform twice a week.

If you like Irish and Newfoundland music, love to be entertained and believe that spending two hours with a smile on your face, then make sure you take in a show at Sullivan’s House. You can google it to learn more, but these musicians (a guitar and an accordian) are storytellers that you hear so much about in Newfoundland. It was so much fun.

I completed the Bear Cove Point Path and the Caplin Bay Path with Kevin’s help, as well as a bit of sustenance from the blueberry crop that was occasionally ripe enough to pick (unlike these blueberries, which are pink because they are green!). Given the blueberries I pick in Northern Ontario are done by the end of July, I was surprised that these ones wouldn’t be in their prime until September.

I include a header in this post about being in Wayne Johnston’s landscape. If you don’t know this Newfoundland writer (though he doesn’t live there now), it’s a good idea to read one of his books in particular before heading out on the ECT. Baltimore’s Mansion is a memoir of Johnson’s childhood. He lived in various places along the Avalon Peninsula, including Ferryland and The Goulds. It is a fabulous and poignant read that brings Newfoundland’s past to light. In particular, the book paints the drama of the vote on March 31, 1949 that resulted in Newfoundland joining confederation. The book is especially relevant as you pass through many of the places and landscapes Johnson mentions in his book.

This brings me to the 20.4km Spurwink Island Path, one of the more popular hikes along the ECT. It’s the Berryhead arch, shown above, that draws hikers — and for good reason. It’s a eye-catching formation and I came upon it on another gorgeous day. How lucky I was with the weather.

Problem was, the next 8 kilometres of trail past the arch were buried in the damp forest. There wasn’t a view unless you took a side trail. Moreover, the trail was rocky and there were slippery roots and it was seriously overgrown. Oftentimes, it was impossible to see where I was putting my foot down. I tripped and stumbled a lot. I know there are work crews on the trail, but meanwhile it’s a tough slog when you don’t have a view to lift your spirits.

Fortunately, I took advantage of a shortcut near the end of the trail. When the tide is out, you can cut across a river saving about a kilometre, which I much appreciated at the end of a long journey.

Next up was, technically, the last hike, ending in Cappahayden. At 10km, I didn’t expect it to be too taxing, and it wasn’t. But it was wet!

The ECT guide recommends you wear rubber boots on this hike. Knowing this and not having a handy pair of rubber boots — I was stubborning still wearing my Keen sandals — I decided to jump in with both feet — literally. I walked right through the first mud hole I came to, soaking both my feet. My wool soaks were matted in mud. It was a brilliant idea — at least I thought so — since it was as wet as the ECT suggested and its name, Island Meadow Path, suggested.

Not everyone will agree with me, but worse than having wet feet, is getting wet feet. It’s that feeling when you realize that despite your best efforts, you got a “soaker,” that’s troubling. By jumping in, I avoided that sinking feeling and saved time as I no longer had to tread carefully to avoid wet feet. I simply tromped through. I also find that by wearing wool socks, I prefer Merino wool, my feet, even when wet, are pretty comfortable.

As I wrote in my notes, the first half of this trail was okay; the second half was superb. The last 5km crossed open heath with trees bent over by the relentless easterlies. This iconic landscape is referred to as “tuckamore.” The wind was blowing, but not at gale force, the temperature coolish, the air filled with salty sea. I floated along on a trail that for the first time was mostly at sea level rather than atop a cliff. It was a grand finale — almost.

So stay tuned for my next episode about the ECT.