Saturday, April 13, 2019

An Early Spring Hike Along Belfry Beach and an Adventure to a new-to-me Lake

It was a disappointing winter for me.  In November, I placed my snowshoes in the back of my car and they didn't move once.  Believe it or not, although I live in Atlantic Canada in a region known for usually getting a lot of snow, hardly anything more than a thin layer fell at any given time.  When a substantial amount did fall, it was easily whisked away by a steady stream of cold rain that quickly turned ground into a skating rink.Now that it's spring, I'm betting that my snowshoes will be of no use this year at all and my hiking shoes are already out.

I'm definitely not getting outdoors as much as I usually do in the winter and spring months but late last week, I did finally get out for a hike in one of my favorite areas of Cape Breton. I left fairly early on a Friday morning and headed toward Belfry Beach.  It was a nice day but it was quite windy so my intention was to check the beach out and see what it would be like for hiking.  It looked fine so I left the car At the bottom of MacKay Road and started the long hike along Belfry Beach to Fourchu.

The first leg of the journey went quite well.  The sun was shining, the temperature was comfortable and the waves rolling ashore lulled me into a state of relaxation that can only be found on a remote, deserted beach.  I walked for about 45 minutes before reaching a nice sheltered area surrounded by trees and bushes beneath a cliff.  Not a breath of wind could be felt there so I sat in the sand and enjoyed my homemade lunch and a beer.  I could hear the wind howling on the other side of the cliff and dreaded rounding that bend to continue up the beach with that breeze whipping me in the face.

Once I bundled up again and rounded that bend, that howling wind only battered me for a few minutes before I got used to it.  The long walk to Forchu wasn't so bad and all the walking overheated me to the point that I had to remove my jacket!  I saw no wildlife that day on the beach and that is strange in that area.  Usually I see some bald eagles or seals or sometimes even a deer but nothing was seen that day.

My next stop was at a new-to-me trail to a lake I had never been to before.  I drove for about twenty minutes towards the Framboise area until I reached an old wood road on the right hand side.  I parked the car off the road and started into the woods.  It was a nice change to be among the trees.  There was hardly any wind and it was much warmer than it was near the ocean.  I love a variety of terrain in my days and that day I spend one half of it listening to the sounds of waves hitting the shore and the other half listening to trees rustling in a soft gentle breeze.

I was told by others who had recently hiked to this lake that it was only about a kilometre hike in.  I walked and walked and walked for what seemed like a long time.  A glance at the activity tracker on my phone indicated I had long passed the one kilometre mark.  I hiked just over two kilometres before the lake came into view.

I was surprised by how large the lake was and even more surprised at the fact that I didn't even know it existed until recently.  It was still covered in a tick layer of ice.  I walked along the edge just a little, consciously not venturing too far for fear of falling through the ice into the freezing cold water. I could see some weak spots in the centre, an indication that the day's mild temperatures and sunny skies had quickened the thawing process.

Darkness was approaching quickly and when I finally decided to start hiking back toward my car, the sun was starting it's slow descent into the horizon.  At one point I thought I heard something in the distance.  A howl or some sort of yell.  I stopped.  Nothing.  I heard it again and stopped.  Nothing.  The third time I stopped and listened, there was a distinct sound coming from the area of the lake where I had just been; coyotes.  I'm not afraid of coyotes while hiking as I've never had any issues with them but I still have a preference to keep my distance.  I picked up the pace a bit and in no time I was back at the car.  It always seems quicker going back for some reason, doesn't it?  A total of four more kilometres to add to the day's total of 15 kilometres.

I hate to go straight home after a wonderful day spent in the wilderness.  I like to drag the adventure on as long as possible.  Instead of backtracking home the same way I came, I took the long way back through Grand River and instead of turning right onto Route 4, I turned left and made a little detour the pretty village of St. Peter's where I stopped for a coffee and a muffin before heading home along the Bras d'Or Lakes. 


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