Making It Up As I Go Along #226

MONDAY…
--- Holiday Monday… watch a ball game… and a DVD… and get groceries… and look out the window at another thunder storm in the evening.

TUESDAY…
--- Busy work day. Lunch with Mike, his girlfriend, and Leslie… And I give Louis the main supervisor desk so he can get practice for my vacation.
--- Talking vacation… 17 days until I land on the Rock.

WEDNESDAY…
--- Very busy at work. Nap after I get home… miss France beating Portugal in soccer but France vs. Italy in the final should be alright.

THURSDAY…
--- Keep pretty busy at work. Some work on stats and some other issues coming up. Lunch across with Leslie, Michelle and Grace… and a long walk after work this evening.

FRIDAY…
--- Busiest day of the week. I’m even at work until 4:45 due to having to deal with stuff with the computer tech guys.
--- Some e-mails and TV in the evening.

SATURDAY…
--- Very lazy, long day around the house. Long cause I’m out of bed around 7:00. Lazy because I spend much of the rest of the day falling asleep on the sofa. I just seem to be really tired from the past week.
--- While awake, baseball, movies, and CNN coverage of North Korea dominate much of the day.


The Spout, Then and Now
The Spout is a six to eight hour coastal walk located a half hour drive outside of St. John’s. Four or five years ago, I did this walk. Today, my sister, brother-in-law, and uncle should be on it as I write.

When I did the Spout, my group went backwards. We started in the community of Bay Bulls and ended at the Goulds. This was a mistake that wore us out. Where we ended, my family will begin. And where I went up a cobbled grade for the last hour or two of my hike, they’ll start fresh and, with strong legs, be able to stride down the cobbles.

The cobble hill of hell takes you right out to the coast. And this is where 80% of the walk stays. For four to six hours, you follow paths along Newfoundland’s east coast. In places, the path is narrow and only a small tuft of bushes separate you from the edge of the cliff and a several hundred foot drop to the rocks and ocean bellow. In our modern world, it’s about as anti-wheelchair accessible as you can get.

When I did the walk, the last half of it was done in the pouring rain and there were no whales to be seen. We did manage to see one distant whale in the first ten minutes of the walk, when the sun still blazed… but that was it whale-wise. A week after I did it, my uncle (and today’s experienced hiker with sister and brother) saw dozens of whales… some of which where breaching out of the ocean majestically. It’s a crap shoot, and on the whale front, he won while I lost. Today, I hope to hear tales of whales from my family.

At the exact half way point of the walk, you come upon the Spout itself. What is the Spout? It’s a fault in the coastal rocks. An underwater cave with a hole a few hundred feet in from the coast. And with each wave that funnels into the cave, a geyser of water shoots up into the air some twenty feet or so. For most, the Spout is the reason why you walk this trail. It was the main reason I planned to go when I walked it. And there have been stories of a rich Newfoundland family who occasionally bypasses the walk and helicopters in to the Spout for a day at this one location. When they’re done eating and socializing, they fly out again.

For me, I hear of this and believe that those rich people and their helicopter have missed out. Looking back at my Spout walk, the Spout itself was simply one of a half dozen highlights. We only stayed there for twenty minutes or so and, although it was impressive, it was the walk as a whole that remains special to me.

Hanging around the Spout, back in my day, was a fox. It cautiously skirted along rock outcrops, keeping an eye on us the whole time we were there. I wonder will my family get such a greeting this time around?

Another highlight of my time along this trail was a great stack of rock that stuck out of the ocean like an old and weathered finger. We had stopped along the trail across from this stack and watched the eagles that were nested atop the pillar… a mature bald eagle and her adolescent, grey offspring. They sat in and around their nest, glancing over at us from time to time. Does a family remain there today? Will sister get the same experience as I had?

My most memorable time on my Spout walk… the memory that I am quickest to share with people in Ottawa… is the lunch I had on that day. It was a simple sandwich (from a Subway restaurant actually) but it was eaten on the top of an abandoned lighthouse. Three or four of us sat along the top railing with legs dangling out over the edge, eating and looking out over the sea. I count myself lucky to be able to say I’ve eaten atop a lighthouse. For uniqueness in my life, it ranks up there with viewing the library of Ephesus (one of the seven wonders of the ancient world), being at the original Olympic track of Olympia, and flying over the Kokanee Glacier of BC. It’s funny what makes a treasured memory. For me, eating a sub sandwich at that lighthouse along the trail to the Spout is more special than standing in front of the Parthenon in Athens. Not that the Parthenon didn’t mean anything to me. It remains a special memory as well. But I’m sure more people would be able to say they’ve stood at the Parthenon than eaten atop an abandoned lighthouse.

Of course, the Parthenon is a more sought after attraction… but sometimes it’s the subtle moments of life that make the biggest impacts. I mean the Parthenon just falls short of having neon arrows pointing to it… telling people “COME HERE!” But an abandoned lighthouse would be easy to pass by. You have to find it for yourself. There’s no outside influence telling you to appreciate it… it’s all upon yourself to make it a special moment.

The beginning portion of my walk, and the end of the walk of my family today, is the coastline that leads you to (or takes you from) Bay Bulls. It gives you a different and memorable perspective of a coastal Newfoundland community. Fishing and tour boats enter and exit the bay. Tourists who spot you along the cliff tops may wave. And you look towards the community as people would have generations ago… when entire families would walk out along these coastal trails for a picnic on a Sunday afternoon.

What was a family event back then is little more than a tourist walk today. Modern families have become disconnected from much of the environment which surrounds them. So now, a community trail like this one brings ghostly images of yesterday rather than real experiences of today. I’ll be shocked if my sister calls to say they came across families of locals out picnicking today. But I’m sure she’ll appreciate the view of the bay town as they near the end of their walk.

The Spout trail is one of many Newfoundland treasures. Memories like the ones you collect on these trails are what make my home province special.