Have you heard about the Bruce Trail? As the longest hiking trail in Ontario and one of the longest in Canada, visitors can complete 900 kilometres over 30 days or finish sections at their leisure. If you’re up for the challenge, you can follow author Nicola Ross’ footsteps to explore Bruce Trail hikes over 40 days of creative hiking loops.
A few months ago, I stumbled upon an email that caught my attention. An ECW Press publicity manager was reaching out to gain attention for a new book, 40 Days & 40 Hikes: Loving the Bruce Trail One Loop at a Time, to be released in April (this month). It’s been a while since I had the chance to explore short Bruce Trail hikes — including The Grotto and Lion’s Head Lookout. After my brief introduction to the Bruce Peninsula, I’ve considered thru-hiking the 900-km Bruce Trail but haven’t put together a plan yet. As I read through the publicist’s email, I gained a sense of excitement for this chance to promote this brand-new book — especially one that will inspire many to lace up and hit the trails. Keep reading to see what I mean!
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New Book — 40 Days & 40 Hikes: Loving the Bruce Trail One Loop at a Time
I haven’t had a chance to meet Nicola Ross in person. We’ve communicated through email and I feel like I’ve gotten to know her — even just a little. As we’ve communicated about this guest post, and as I’ve read portions of her new book, I have been struck by her passion for environmental conservation and her desire to inspire positive change (even when it gets tough). I admire Nicola’s desire to use her honed writing and communication skills to inspire others to spend time outdoors and form meaningful connections with natural places.
ORDER NOW: 40 Days & Days Hikes: Loving the Bruce Trail One Loop at a Time
Below you can read an excerpt from Nicola’s newest book, 40 Days & 40 Hikes: Loving the Bruce Trail One Loop at a Time. This guest post was written and contributed by Nicola. More than just another guidebook, Nicola sets out to enjoy Bruce Trail hikes and engage the community in meaningful conversations about the natural world. As she puts it, this is a “loopy love story about hiking the Bruce Trail” and includes real-world stories that will both entertain and inspire. Check out her Loops & Lattes Hiking Guides as well.
Bruce Trail Hikes — Hilton Falls / Dufferin Gap
The following is an adapted excerpt from 40 Days & 40 Hikes: Loving the Bruce Trail One Loop at a Time and was contributed by author Nicola Ross:
Returning to the main Bruce Trail under blue skies, my friend Susan and I ambled along the 9.2 kilometre Hilton Falls Side Trail with its shimmering reservoir to our left. The temperature was skyrocketing and so was the humidity. When we spied a small stream, we stripped off our shoes and socks, and let the fast-flowing water cool our feet. Bliss. Back on the trail, we entered a cedar forest; gradually the light grew dim. While cedar forests can be gloomy places, this was different. Looking behind us, we discovered the sun had been replaced by a bank of ominous purple clouds, not unlike the ones I’d seen in Rock Chapel about a week ago. We were going to get wet.
The trail continued through the cedars over rocky terrain where there had once been a bustling town, built on the power of Sixteen Mile Creek. I tried to picture stores and hotels, horses and carts, people going about their business. We admired a large pothole, about two metres in diameter. It was formed when running water caused stones and other debris to swirl around and around inside a depression in the rock until it had created a cylindrical hole. Another natural wonder.
Read next: Lion’s Head Lookout: Scenic Bruce Peninsula Hike in Ontario
We clambered down the stairs to look at Hilton Falls, joining a family with a chubby golden retriever. He was splayed out in the cool stream, maximizing his body surface to water ratio. Climbing back up, the air prickled with energy as we sat on a bench bordering a fire pit, hoping we could finish our lunch before the downpour. When great plops of rain threatened to mush our sandwiches, we knew we were in for it. The falling air pressure, the plummeting temperature, the metallic smell spelled deluge. Luckily, right behind us was a woodpile protected under a rustic tarpaulin lean-to. It must have been the only shelter within 10 kilometres. Hauling on our rain jackets, we ducked inside and sat down on damp wood amid spiders and earwigs. Instantly, the plops graduated into a monsoon.
What light we had disappeared, thunder barrelled down the river valley and we did our best to avoid sitting under leaks in the tarpaulin. We bunched closer together when two more hikers joined us. The tempest raged. We joked with the newcomers, but this storm wasn’t a laughing matter. We couldn’t see much, but we heard the cracks of thunder intensify as the front closed in. Rivulets of water streamed under the sodden logs beneath us. The gloom intensified.
Then it was over — fast and furious. The rain let up as though someone had turned off a tap. The atmospheric pressure had bottomed out; the temperature had plunged. “The worst of the storm has likely passed,” Susan deduced. Leaving our raincoats on to protect us from dripping trees and the cold, we ventured back onto the trail. Negotiating large puddles, we followed the trail as it wound through a scrub forest of immature trees. Minutes later, there was a gust of wind, then another, stronger this time. The trees swayed, their branches straining like laundry on a prairie clothesline. Spooked by the intensity of these outbursts, we instinctively took cover behind the largest of entirely inadequate trees. We hoped the trunks would give us some protection if branches or, worse yet, an entire tree came down. It was that kind of wind — the kind that makes you afraid to be outside in a forest. The kind of wind never experienced by those who believed trimming could prevent trees in the Royal Botanical Gardens from being blown down.
As we waited, motionless, we heard a crack, followed by smashing foliage to our left. We couldn’t see through the dense brush, but we both knew it was what we feared most: a falling tree. What to do? The wind whipped and whirled. The trees shook, shedding moisture like a dog shakes itself free of pond water. There was nowhere to go. No protection. No well-placed lean-to. We had no choice but to wait it out hoping that luck continued to be with us. Our saving grace was that we were in a scrub forest of apple and hawthorns rather than among basketball-player maples that are more prone to wind. Nonetheless, we were paralyzed as the gale slammed into us.
Read next: The Grotto Hike in Bruce Peninsula National Park
Then, suddenly, the wind stopped. Silence prevailed. We looked at each other. Is it over? Or is this the eye of a tornado? The quiet before the tempest? Adrenalin coursed through my veins. “What the f— was that?” I asked Susan. She responded, “I don’t f—ing know.” Should we continue? Should we head back? Should we wait?
Wary of what Mother Nature had in store for us next, we took a few hesitant steps along the trail, looking to each other for assurance that this was the right thing to do. The sky was leaden. It was still, muted, eerie. The atmosphere was thick. It pressed in on us. The Hilton Falls Side Trail snaked through forests, across meadows and onto an earthen dyke overlooking a mist-shrouded wetland. It was dead calm. Red-winged blackbirds chattered nervously and a pair of swans floated idly on the still water.
Walking on through a mature forest, our way was blocked by an uprooted maple. Pondering how to get around it, Susan said, “It looks like that tree just came down.” And sure enough, its leaves hadn’t begun to droop. Two minutes later, an enormous oak obstructed the path, and then another. In a short stretch, six mammoths had succumbed to the tempest. Bad as it had seemed as we waited out the driving rain and then the blustery wind, we had clearly been spared the worst of it.
An hour later, as we neared my car, the clouds disappeared and sunshine streamed through the trees. The morning’s humidity had vanished. It was impossible to imagine ourselves huddled with the firewood, spiders and earwigs under that leaking tarpaulin or crouched with our arms protecting our heads behind a whip of a young apple tree.
Read next: Your Complete Guide to Pukaskwa Coastal Trail in Ontario
Driving home we listened to reports about the storm. Indeed, we had been lucky, very lucky. Described as a historic, high impact derecho, it packed winds of up to 190 kilometres per hour along a one thousand kilometre path. Three cities in Southern Ontario declared states of emergency and, I learned later, insured damage resulting from nature’s fury was estimated at $875 million, making it Canada’s sixth costliest natural disaster ever. More disturbing yet: while we were tucked in behind those inadequate saplings, 11 people died — almost all of them victims of falling trees.
Bruce Trail Hikes — Hilton Falls / Dufferin Gap Notes (Day 12)
Start Time: 8 a.m., Saturday, May 21, 2022
Trailhead Weather: sunshine, thunder, hard rain and Canada’s first derecho windstorm
Distance: 26.9 km
Elapsed Time: 9h 45m
BT Section: Toronto
BT Map: #11/12
Main BT Walked: 1.0 km to 8.9 km
Ascent: 869 m / Descent: 890 m
Side Trails: Philip Gosling Side Trail, Hilton Falls Side Trail
Flora/Fauna of Note: common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), mute swan (Cygnus olor), Eastern red-spotted newt (Notophthalmus viridescens), female rose-breasted grosbeak (Pheucticus ludovicianus), sulphur butterflies (Colias philodice)
Have you had a chance to hike sections of the Bruce Trail in Ontario? If so, did you enjoy better weather conditions than Nicola? Leave a comment below!
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Nicola Ross
Nicola Ross developed a keen sense of place at an early age. She studied biology at the University of Guelph but soon discovered that a pen was her tool of choice. Formerly a climate change consultant, Nicola is a regular contributor to and columnist with In the Hills magazine. Her articles have been published in The Walrus, The Globe and Mail, Explore Magazine, Mountain Life, Avenue, Ontario Nature, Alternatives Journal, and more. She was also a regular environmental contributor to CBC Radio in Calgary, appearing on CBC Radio program Fresh Air, and was the long-time editor-in-chief of Alternatives Journal, Canada’s national environmental magazine. As the winner of numerous writing honours, including a National Magazine Award, Nicola is the author of 12 books, including the popular Loops & Lattes Hiking Guides and her latest book, 40 Days & 40 Hikes: Loving the Bruce Trail One Loop at a Time. Nicola currently resides in Alton, Ontario.
