Trying to capture the adventures of younger years when our bodies easily responded to canoeing, biking, and hiking without any complaints are behind us. But the urge is still there to get out among the trees and under a sky that sometimes drenches, but generally feeds our well being, and we decided to find a circular route that included some of the greener parts of our city. It is to be a continuous, circular, linked route that ends where we started, without retracing except for handling our car drops.
Bill is both younger and fitter than me, and he hiked across England a few years ago. It was his suggestion though that settled our technique. He suggested that we
START SLOW AND TAPER.
This is not to be a get from point A to point B sort of thing. And if we see an interesting side trail, or a pond, or simply some people to talk to, that distraction will become part of the official experience. The trip is the key, not the destination.
The first day has a name: "Top of the Hill and Beside the River". Soon I'll tell you what it was like, and what we saw.
Sounds like a good idea, to get some good execise and see some interesting locales.
Top of the Hill and Beside the River
So our first day of this historic journey has been completed, and I say historic because there's a good chance no one ever, in the history of the universe, has made this particular journey on this particular route as one connected trip.
And don't worry about the stops. Even Magellan's crews, as they circumnavigated the globe starting in 1519, made stops. Many readers will not know that Magellan didn't go around the world. He died, and only one of five ships and 18 of 250 men survived the full trip.
Bill and I canoed the entire Trent Severn system about 40 years ago. So this is a miniature re-enactment on old feet. We completed 'day one' of our walk around Peterborough a few days ago. We're resting today because the length of the walk was maybe a little (insert favourite swear word) longer than the 7.5 k I had estimated and because we're old.
So the adventure started by parking Bill's car near The Cabin at Trent on the east side of the river near where Nassau Mills Road crosses Armour. And we crossed the canal bridge to get to the campus east side, and found the foot bridge to the west campus.
To begin we found going through the grounds of Trent was awesome. We had the entire campus all to ourselves and it was beautiful, especially the faux ancient walls. Because I had taken courses in the late 80's I could find a way between buildings and over bright green grass where we never saw anyone else.
But to our dismay we found when we got to the drumlin that global warming had increased its height and steepness! With many rest stops we made it to the crest and it was down hill for awhile, then flat while we walked beside the river in solitude to the train at the zoo where we finally met people, many of them very short and smiling.
We did visit the camels and the restrooms before Water Street and after crossing started up the Cumberland bike path, which was much steeper than I remembered it, another example of global warming. Finally we turned west on the bike trail that goes way past Lindsay if you want to follow it. And it was heavenly drifting slightly downhill in forest. We followed this almost to Hilliard Street.
There is a path totally in the woods that heads north here that is on the side of the Bear Creek Ravine. It pops out at Bathurst where we turned right onto Cabot and dragged ourselves to my house.
The hiking, which seemed to be almost all uphill, took us about 3 hours 45 minutes.
I sat on the couch and had an unexpected nap just sitting there.
Bill and I think our chances of reaching the end are pretty good. (And we both have cell phones if we run into difficulties, unlike Magellan.) But we've trained, and both of us have tough, resilient mental attitudes. Sort of.
Are you using tracking on the phone so you can show us the map afterward? Weirdly, my mind needs visuals, and with the path on the map, I could click on it to see where you walked through on streetview. Or maybe all three of us will have to do it again so I can see it. I don't know the Northend of Peterborough as well so it's hard to visualize (other than the zoo).
I'm sorry Jason. We thought a general sketch of the route would be good enough and maybe encourage others to seek their own way. We've now finished 2 days, and basically it starts at the northern edge of Trent (the drumlin),heads to the zoo, and crosses Water St to pick up the Parkway Bike Trail which leads to Jackson Park and beyond to where we turn south and head down into your area of the city.
I know this area pretty well so I can add on side bits which are interesting to us.
We didn't use phones or Internet 'back in the day', so they are not allowed. If we get lost we have to solve the problem without technology, and there are vestiges of wilderness in this wonderful city that can turn you around. (But it's not like some of the places we wandered into years ago agreed.) And we do have phones if absolutely needed, which is improbable.
You didn't go for a ride on the zoo minature train? :-)
Quote from: buster on July 28, 2026, 09:21:08 AMTop of the Hill and Beside the River
walked beside the river in solitude to the train at the zoo where we finally met people, many of them very short and smiling.
We did visit the camels and the restrooms before Water Street and after crossing started up the Cumberland bike path, which was much steeper than I remembered it, another example of global warming. Finally we
Bill wrote: "You didn't go for a ride on the zoo miniature train? :-)"
Of course we did! I didn't include it because it doesn't fit with the serious nature of our endeavour. I didn't want to give the impression that what we are doing is frivolous.
A Small Lake, The Ponds, and Trees
We did this section backwards, and so had to drop only one car rather than two. The only time Magellan went backwards was during heavy gales, or so I've heard. We expected about a 6 km uphill/downhill day, and when we finished that felt about right.
In perfect weather we drove to a gem of a natural area in Peterborough and parked in Jackson Park at the north end of Monaghan Rd, and because it was nine AM there were few people.
We set off, thankfully downhill, to cross the bridge and saw a duck apparently sleeping on the two foot high dam that spans Jackson Creek. We soon learned that she wasn't sleeping but watching over her tiny youngsters who where bobbing about in the shallow water beyond the dam. I was surprised to see this domestic scene so close to the bridge and the trail that must carry many pedestrians. (The ducks name was Hilda by the way.)
We circumnavigated the lake and spent some time on the Pagoda Bridge and reminisced about how the past is forgotten by the newer generations of this city. Maybe someday come back and take a look at this site. It surprised me:
https://peterboroughmoviehistory.com/other-writing/jackson-park-amusement-and-heritage-site
We reached the steep trail that takes us out of the park, and the climb reminded me that I don't like going uphill anymore. Uphill equals discomfort at my age, reminding me that not too may years ago I could ride my bicycle up this hill. But that was then.
We arrived at the sign that arches over the trail. It's attractive and says Parkway Trail, but this time we were heading east. On day one we had travelled west on a different part the same trail.
For a huge section of the rest of the walk it was like travelling through an unused golf course - very tidy, wide and green, with attractive trees, but paved. Being a trail is good. Being paved is clean and tidy but maybe a bit too civilized. We were relaxed and talkative, unlike our experience climbing the drumlin, or facing the slow torture of going up Cumberland on day one, the hill that went forever. Time flew by here, as did the kilometres. It's an easy and attractive stroll.
We passed the two large ponds that are near the trail, not far from Walmart which can be seen like a castle on the heights in the distance.
The second pond is quite attractive, but this second pond is where our route took us north, up a hill again to some more greenbelt, which was also also uphill, until we got on some streets and arrived at R F Downey PS which happens to have a locally known exit from the grounds in the northern fence.
Still heading north and turning left onto Bowen Drive, we reached and walked a narrow bike trail to the west, turned right at its end and came to a park with yet another pond in Roundabout Park, which is named stupidly (in my opinion) not after the pond, but after a local road feature.
I can walk to this bit of water from our house easily and have visited it over the years as it matured into a pond you can hardly see now because the edges have been taken over, according to Bill, by invasive foreign species.
Still, there are a few good vantage points to see the pond's full size and the now larger trees. We also took a short excursion into some ancient cedars near the pond, our last touch with a spot where few humans visit, and after we came back to a paved walkway we travelled a few ordinary streets to get to my house and day 2 was finished. So we had now covered from the north end of our city at Trent to Jackson Park.
Four days to go.
***************
When I drove Bill back to Jackson Park so he could get his car, a woman asked us how to get to the lake. I explained how to get on the correct path. She spoke with an accent which wasn't French or Canadian English. I assumed, wrongly, she was a visitor. So I bluntly asked,
"Where are you from?"
To which she replied, "Peterborough."
Now I was even more curious. "Where were you raised?"
Her answer was even more unsatisfying. "Europe."
I could not just leave it. "Which country in Europe?"
And when she said Poland I pointed to my hiking friend Bill and told her that Bill's wife is Polish, and he obliged by greeting her in a few words of Polish and they were off and running and talking about her 'old country' which he has visited more than once.
They had no need of me. They seemed happy. So I drove my car out of the park, and headed home.
Got a surprise this morning that concerns our 'day 3' route tomorrow!
An older couple, starting in 2018, began walking across Canada from the Atlantic side of Newfoundland. They were following the Trans Canada Trail, which as some of you know, comes right through Peterborough. They are near the Pacific Ocean and will finish their journey within days.
The section we're doing tomorrow is a bit of the Trans Canada they travelled maybe four or five years ago, pulling their little cart with their tent and food.
This is the article, and it has some good pictures:
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/b-c-couple-trans-canada-trail-9.7290223
Quote from: buster on July 31, 2026, 08:17:32 AMWe didn't use phones or Internet 'back in the day', so they are not allowed. If we get lost we have to solve the problem without technology, and there are vestiges of wilderness in this wonderful city that can turn you around. (But it's not like some of the places we wandered into years ago agreed.) And we do have phones if absolutely needed, which is improbable.
I don't follow. You had phones or you didn't have phones? If you had smartphones with you with location mode on, your route has been mapped unless you turned off that option in your Google Account. Go into Google Maps and look back to that day. If you use an iPhone, which I doubt, it probably has that feature, too, but it might be off in their case since they're more privacy-oriented.
Quote from: buster on August 03, 2026, 11:30:43 AMThis is the article, and it has some good pictures:
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/b-c-couple-trans-canada-trail-9.7290223
Fascinating article! When I was a young pup, me and a friend talked about cycling across Canada. Walking seems too slow to me, but the hills are probably easier to walk. Where I used to go to the cottage in Eastern Ontario, Combermere (Madawaska River) is Shield country and the hills have beautiful sights to see but the hills are killer on a bike. Another friend and I talked about backpacking through Europe. So many regrets, but you give me hope that someday I can do some of it maybe.
In deep shame, I admit I haven't been to Jackson Park in many years, at least a decade, probably two, other than in passing it outside. Does it look anything like it did in the 2000s? I mean, have they changed any parts of it. I remember the Pagoda bridge. In grade 9, my geography class went to the park for orienteering. I learned that I really suck at it. No sense of direction whatsoever!
"I don't follow. You had phones or you didn't have phones? "
We have phones for emergencies, but not for finding our way. We have to find our way using the position of the sun, our instincts, or our luck, or a paper map we have, just as we did 40 years ago.
Thanks Buster, for the excellent post and Link, about your latest walk.
When I was going through high school, we lived near Jackson Park. First on Highland Rd then on McCrea Dr, when I was going to Sir Sandford Fleming college.
I walked past and through a bit of Jackson park on my way to the college, which at that time was on Bonaccord St.
Quote from: buster on July 31, 2026, 12:57:18 PMA Small Lake, The Ponds, and Trees
We did this section backwards, and so had to drop only one car rather than two. The only time Magellan went backwards was during heavy gales, or so I've heard. We expected about a 6 km uphill/downhill day, and when we finished that felt about right.
They had no need of me. They seemed happy. So I drove my car out of the park, and headed home.
A Day with Trees, a Wide Creek, and Few Houses
Planning the end of day 3 depended on where we intended to start day 4. Day 4's route was contentious. But everything had to be decided before we dropped a car. It was a near thing, but there were no scuffles. (At our age we can't fight, so we scuffle. That ways no one gets hurt.) The route has finally been decided, so we can continue our hike.
We first had to drop a car near the end of our projected day 3, and that was a challenge in itself. As a culture, in expensive areas, we tend to avoid, wisely in my opinion, a simple grid. Roads curve and twist and finding your way is a hit or miss sort of thing. But we found the school parking lot and managed, with some heated discussion, the route out and to the Jackson Park parking lot.
We parked and headed down to the same bridge where we had seen the mother duck caring for her little ones, but instead of turning east back to my house, we headed west for what I suspect was the best part of the entire 6 day hike we planned on doing. And the reason is simple.
There were zero houses, zero roads, and no car traffic. It was all trees, path, creek, and sky. We passed also some of the most beautiful young women (for us anyone under 60) living in Peterborough, most with dogs big enough to bit you in half, or small and nasty enough to gnaw through your leg. But even those in their twenties were friendly and smiled and said hi to these ancient beings sharing the path with them. (When they directed their gaze at Bill he went all sort of gooey, and it was really embarrassing. But he has all kinds of other good qualities.)
Anyway, the trail, an ancient rail line, follows Jackson Creek most of the time, and there were always interesting things to look at. I also found out that many years ago, when we were were callow youths in our 30's, Bill had, with friends and kayaks, run Jackson Creek during the spring floods, a good but harrowing experience. He was amazing messing about in boats, and taught me most of the things I know about canoeing.
(And people who can canoe together, will be friends forever.)
So we walked west, sometimes under a tunnel of trees, and we saw the creek running along side us going east, and there were no bugs and not many birds. The lack of bugs sounds good, but it isn't. The whole ecosystem needs these little creatures, some for the simple task of fertilizing our fruit trees.
For those who know the trail we walked to the bridge where you can see Lily Lake, so on this third day we completed the route from our most northerly point, the drumlin at Trent, to our most westerly point, Lily Lake. Now it was time to head south.
We doubled back to the Jackson Creek Meadow Bridge and followed a steeply rising path that took us to civilization on Parkhill Rd. Our selection of paths unfortunately has climbed every possible hill in the direction we were going. When you walk or bike you realize what a hilly city this is.
Bill led us east on Parkhill until we came to a paved path going directly south through trees and grass. Our surroundings gradually changed to large brick houses on large lots with expensive cars on wide driveways. It looked very much like a movie set for the extremely affluent. Even the dogs (being walked by young, lovely ladies) seemed to be richer than we two are, for we looked a tad ratty, but in a handsome and debonair way.
And these lovely ladies spoke to us. They probably assumed that anyone who could find his or her way through the maze of twisting, turning streets must live here, or had been here for days trying to find a way out.
For me the last part of the trip was uncomfortable because the leg that didn't have the hip replacement was hurting. Bill sat me down on a school bench and we ate our oranges and cookies. He is a good partner. Refreshed we headed to the car and drove back to my car in the Jackson Park lot and declared the first half of the trip was complete with this 6.5 k day.
On day four we hope to do some of the Crawford Rail Trail, if we can reach it.
Quote from: buster on August 05, 2026, 08:17:26 AM"I don't follow. You had phones or you didn't have phones? "
We have phones for emergencies, but not for finding our way. We have to find our way using the position of the sun, our instincts, or our luck, or a paper map we have, just as we did 40 years ago.
Gotcha'. Sorry, I'm one of those who likes to follow along as I read. When I'm reading fantasy or historical novels, I do the same thing. Maybe it's because I can't depend on the position of the sun, instincts or luck. If you can still find a paper map, they're good, though. I'm old enough to have used maps during long drives. But honestly, I'm glad we're beyond that, even if it's nice to get away from looking at a phone for a while. It's nice to listen to music while walking, obviously I mean when you're alone. It'd be downright rude to do that when you're with someone.
Searching for Greenery, City Streets, and the Crawford Rail Trail
We hope to end today's trek where the Crawford Trail crosses Monaghan. This gives us a good place to drop a car for our planned end point, Lansdowne Place. And sadly this leaves us with only two days of the route to finish back to Trent, and it's not as if I can say, 'Let's do this again in five years.' My body does not keep up with my aspirations.
We dropped the endpoint car and headed northwest to where we had finished day 3, and it was a worrisome drive because it seemed much farther than I thought it was going to be. Houses and stores flashed by as we drove to the start which was a long way to reach.
In fact it proved to be a perfect length, and that may be the result of my slack body relearning how to walk. This was, after all, our fourth section.
As I write this I have to do something I'm not happy to do. I have to praise Bill publicly for the genius map reading skills he has that not only found, but linked in an almost continuous route parks, paths, woods, and lovely tree shaded sidewalks down towards Costco. His luck ran out when one of his adventures took us to a tall Frost Wire fence with barbed wire on the top. This was in fact a map error. And it wasn't ultimately inconvenient.
To this point of the morning, the unpleasantness was limited to a section of the Parkway with its traffic and noise, but we reached, unscathed, after walking through the Costco parking lot, The Crawford Rail Trail, and we headed east.
For those who don't know it, the trail is tidy, arrow straight, paved, and in some ways a bit boring. There is no chance for us to get lost, which is a favourite pastime for us, and people seemed in a hurry and uninclined to chat. But it did get us to my car, where we ate Bill's freshly baked sourdough bread with jam and continued our discussions about the ecological collapse of the world, or the fires, or the loss of insects, or the paucity of fish stocks in the ocean, or the possibility of the gulf stream altering, or the floods in St Catherines or Montreal. Next walk we can discuss the incredible lack of water in the Colorado River, which we have both camped near, and the emptying of the world's aquifers, and the rapidity of the recent changes.
I have been surprised how much of the natural world you can find in a loop around our city, or maybe Bill can find. But you have to look for it. And on a path in the trees of a forest today we met a lovely lady from Birmingham England, who walks every day, and was happy to chat. With the leaves and branches over our heads we were encouraged to converse and share, but we were in a little island of the natural world, not, say, in a crowded city centre. The world is different in the world our ancestors inhabited. And they did it without phones in their pockets.
The River, the Park, and then the Bike Path All the Way
We had finished at the eastern end of the Crawford Rail Trail, so we started today from that spot and zigzagged the streets east and south to Brinton Carpet Park which surprisingly was actually covered in grass.
But I have to comment on the neighbourhood we walked through to get to the park which was right out of a 50's movie. It was wonderful. The lots were large and tall trees could be spotted here and there in back yards. The gardens were bright. And the houses were a total mix of styles and I assume value, but all were well cared for. Probably most lots had different builders back then. Still, as a neighbourhood it had both variety and continuity. It appeared to be a set of houses where the neighbours were connected, which of course I cannot know. But to me it felt comfortable.
It seemed the opposite of the newer developments where lots are filled to the maximum with giant similar houses, and if you stand between the houses you can touch both walls. And the passersby here said hello as we met on the sidewalks, and that doesn't happen everywhere in our city. These streets are one of Peterborough's pleasant hidden places.
So we crossed Carpet Park diagonally on grass and stepped onto another trail with trees with, in this case, a river beside it. (I'd like to say it was charming, but men aren't allowed to use that expression.) But this very spot has significance for Bill and me because from somewhere near here we took off, downstream, on the first day of our long canoe trip all those years ago. We ended up camping, cooking, and sleeping in a farmer's field with cows our first night, which really wasn't much of a problem as long as you watched where you stepped. And five days later, as we canoed into Lake Ontario, we had covered the river system from Peterborough to the big lake.
Not surprisingly, we reminisced about that day forty years ago, and stared at the fast flowing water.
We did chat with a man, though not with his dog, who had lived here all his life and loved it. He told us of fishing from the shore with friends on the weekend when he was a youngster. It was obvious this area was not just where he lives. This is his home.
But we had to get to the other side of the river, and used the boat lock just south of Landsdowne to do this, climbed up the steep bank on the other side, and turned left onto Whitla, crossed at the light and walked into the grounds of the Peterborough Naval Station expecting at any moment to be surrounded by rifles.
It was silent. We walked through the mostly unused horseshoe pits, and saw an orange fence that cut us off from our destination, Beavermead Park. We did find one friendly, narrow opening and going through meant we saved a bucket of steps, rather than travelling the long way around on roads. And fortunately we found shade for walking on one side of the soccer fields, saw soccer coaches putting youngsters through vigorous drills and we also saw a friendly bench, also in the shade, that looked out over the water.
I immediately took two pain pills because of my leg, we ate two of Bill's cookies, and we talked of the time we canoed through the Lift Lock as the solitary water craft in an otherwise empty tub, and then paddled across the blue waters of Little Lake, again many years go.
Today we saw kayakers, little kids with smiling parents, people obviously born in other regions of the world, and a very large osprey. It felt as if the world isn't falling apart.
So we continued, following the Rotary Greenway Trail and it was mostly pleasant rather than exciting. We passed the Canadian Canoe Museum, which has Canoe rentals, crossed over the lock, went through Rogers Cove and headed north on streets for about three blocks and then were back on the trail. (I mention these places because readers may have been there at one time or another.)
We could have stopped for a draught at the Ashburnham Ale House, sat outside, and watched the world ride or walk by on the trail, but we still had distances to cover on old legs. Wisdom prevailed, and reluctantly we continued north, finding more and more friendly benches the farther we went. We both liked this trail, but each of us had ridden it many, many times. It was like having an old friend who is pleasant to be with, but not likely to come up with an idea we haven't heard before. Although this isn't true with Bill, who often has outlandish ideas bursting from him that no other human would dare spout.
And the car at our hike's finish was at Nicholls Oval Park, where we saw the setting up for the weekend music festival. We shared some sadness because we only had one more hike to finish to complete the loop back to Trent, and because we couldn't afford to have a music band to greet us when we arrived. This meant we had to go with plan B, which was to have my cousin May play the accordion as we took our final steps. I was a shame though that she could only play religious music.
Before the Final Section Begins
The final walking section would have to wait a bit because other things were scheduled for the following week. Really though, neither of us was in a hurry to complete the hiking circle. And the final section would be straight and one of the shorter hikes, so not very exciting. But we would complete the circle, so the final score would be Bill and Harry 1, Magellan 0.
A very good narrative of your trail walks! Thanks Buster.
Quote from: buster on August 16, 2026, 01:25:45 PMThe River, the Park, and then the Bike Path All the Way
We had finished at the eastern end of the Crawford Rail Trail, so we started today from that spot and zigzagged the streets east and south to Brinton Carpet Park which surprisingly was actually covered in grass.
Still one section to go Bill. Maybe Monday or Tuesday.
Linking to the start. The final five kilometres
We started our walk today wearing jackets because of slightly cooler weather. And at least for me, there was a sense of melancholy that matched the partially cloudy sky, and the clouds weren't the puffy white ones we watched as kids as they changed shape. We would reach our forty kilometre mark, link up with the beginning, and be quite certain our circle route was done. This would be not an accomplishment, but an end.
Our long lives are littered with endings, especially when you're ancient like me, and it's good to walk with Bill who has a much more optimistic view. He always sees beginnings.
So we began our final day with smiles, heading north on the bike path that goes from Nicholls Oval Park to Trent University. And we did meet others on the trail, and we saw friendliness and smiles, a product I think of being outdoors in a sort of natural environment.
All the drama, surprises, and ponds were used up on the first five days, but it was, while quiet, pleasant to be strolling along with talk of other times, enjoying the end of the summer. And the river was beside the trail as were the gulls and the geese.
There is a bridge that crosses the river, and this route joins with Hilliard, and it goes up steep inclines to the area where Marilyn and I live. This bridge I have crossed many times, but the most dramatic crossing occurred about half a century ago. At that time the police used to auction bicycles for really good prices that they had accumulated, and so a bid of maybe $20 would get you a usable bike, and that's what our children had for years.
Back in those days we simply left our bikes leaning against the house, not worried about theft. But one time our daughter's bike disappeared, a cheap full sized racer, and we never saw it again until one day as I walked across this bridge I saw it at the bottom of the river, resplendent with its ugly brown frame. Retrieving it seemed dangerous and decidedly not worth it. But I saw on later trips that it had gone somewhere, but not back to our house.
Anyway, Bill and I spent some time on the bridge, admiring the river and trees. The weather edged itself to pleasant, and then we resumed our northern walk.
About where the path goes by Thomas A Stewart we found we could spend some time to the left of the path, and we kidded ourselves this route was a little less civilized, ignoring that the grass had been cut. Jackson Park it was not, but we were at least away from people for a bit and that's usually refreshing.
We stopped at a friendly bench that had been paid for by some acquaintances of ours and ate the two plumbs Bill had brought. When you're covering ground, in a canoe, biking, or hiking, eating takes on an aura of ritual, so we were a bit quieter. We were outside, there was a tall Spruce and an even taller Red Pine, and our falling apart world felt almost sane.
And if you know the trail, you know it crosses a road, and we decided to leave the path and stay on the road because it hugs the river, and a river is often more interesting than trees and grass, which it proved to be.
On the first day of our hike on the other side of we river, we had gone out onto the island at the zoo. We had that human-less green world to ourselves, and enjoyed the almost natural conditions of trees and water, but with a civilizing touch of a bench. We sat and I don't think we talked much in the silence. And at that point we had still about thirty-five kilometres to go, most of it uphill if I remember correctly.
From where we stopped on today's walk, we could see the same island on the river's other side. I measured it on a computer map when we finished today. At that point of today's hike we had only one and a quarter kilometres to go to the car. (I wished we had ten more days of hiking left.) But the island I suppose will always be a symbol of beginnings now in my mind, whatever that means at my age.
It was lucky that the conversation was good for the final 1.25 k, because the trail has left nothing stuck in my mind. But the coffee was good at Tims, as was the chat. And we agree that this didn't match our canoeing of the Trent Severn system, or later the canoeing of the Rideau canal, but it was pretty good for old guys.
Summing Up
It's worth noting that millions of people travel thousands of expensive miles to visit quite amazing places. And that is completely understandable. But none of this circle route that the two of us enjoyed was ever more than 9 kilometres from my house, and many of the things we experienced were new to me, especially some of the things that fellow traveller Bill found for day 4.
We met someone from Poland, and someone from England, and a variety of people from Peterborough, each seeming to be unique. Smiling faces were the norm, and I attribute this to being outside in greenery, and walking. The mother duck, the frog, the osprey, and the people looking the other way may very well have been smiling too, but of this I can't be sure. I do know the little ones pulling their parents towards the train at the zoo were on the edge of laughing.
And finally, I am certain that being outside and walking in the trees is something I'll continue doing until my legs fold under me.
Thanks for sharing your adventures, Harry. I enjoyed them.
If you ever do this again- and I know you said you probably won't- I would love to join you guys. Contrary to popular belief, I can walk. I walk several times a week to and from Lansdowne Place, which takes 45 minutes both ways at my brisk walking pace. I do get tired from it, but I've also walked downtown sometimes or from the hospital, which are one-hour walks from my place. I only look out of shape. Okay, I'm still out of shape, but I can do walks if the heat isn't too bad.
I don't know how I could have missed this fine adventure, until now. Way to go, Harry! I have walked and cycled along most of this route at different times, but you made this a noteworthy adventure, and a good story!
At the end of September I will be doing a little adventure of my own, with two old friends. This one will be on bicycle; a slight modification of the Simcoe County Trail. It will be 200 km in four days; overnighting a B&Bs and motels. So an average of 50 km/day for a guy that hasn't done more than 25 all season! I'm not quite as old as you, Harry, but I'm no spring chicken either. I expect this to be quite a challenge and like you, I look forward to enjoying the mostly natural scenery.
Good to see your name again Mike. Your trip sounds great. I'm assuming your daughter is still doing long hiking adventures.
You and I know that human powered long trips 'out there' are astonishing, especially when the environment lacks humans.
You are a youngster Mike. If I could miraculously live 13 more short years, I would have been on the planet for a century. And the aging is more pronounced each year.
Takes me forever now to get through a bottle of Irish Whisky.
Thanks Buster, for the narrative on your trail walk with Bill.
Maybe this winter you and Bill can take a toboggan to the various hills around Peterborough and write about that experience. :-)
If we do that Bill, I think the future of this thread is going to be totally downhill.
Very good. :-)