Day 04 - Looking and feeling like Ghandi are 2 different things

Date: May 4, 2002
Location: Curly's Portables, Pub & Grub; Hwy 2, Enfield Nova Scotia
Distance Traveled: 12 km (53 km)

"Looking and feeling like Ghandi are 2 different things."

Of course, just because I was on the road to self discovery, didn't mean I automaticlly learn to budget my money. I blew a bunch of it here on pub fare because I was just too hungry and unable to control myself.

So the distance I've travelled in 4 days is about 1/3 rd of what I had wanted to accomplish. Except for the 1 day lay over in Laurie Park and Bob's Bait, I'd be moving a little faster than the average hiker who is NOT carrying a guitar. I am NOT however' moving as quickly as I want to. My original calculation said less than one month. The atlas said I would make it in little under 2, but I'm figuring I'll actually arrive in Belleville near Canada Day, July 1 st . This isn't so bad, but I don't want to show up looking like Ghandi.

I did some laundry at Bob's Bait this morning. Had a very difficult time prying myself away from the television, to that it was interesting. Saturday morning pokemon is not my idea of entertainment, but it was riviting, don't ask me why.

When all was washed and/or dried... and I finally ripped my eyes from the tv, I made my way North, leaving around 1 pm (Atlantic). I'm still thinking in Eastern Time. I still remember something Joe said last night. He mentioned something along the lines of “You know, transiants, the people between places!” I laughed so hard when this phrase escaped his lips. I was still a bit dizzy at the time and pondering Keitha's statement about a person's place. A transient, by Joe's description and my current understaning of “Place” would be anyone who really doesn't know what to do. They are in almost every sense “ lost” and so from now on, I and every frustrated soul, confused youth and Lost Boy will be considered transients. People who are between the places they know and places they will be.

Anyway, I left there, walked another 12 klicks to Curly's (where I am now) and plan on sleeping under a bridge. Phill (the bartender) suggested it would be a safe place. Curly's is awesome, Bob will help anyone in need and I am still hurting like hell!

Day 03 - Dave's Not Here

Date: May 3, 2002
Location: Bob's Bait, Hwy 2, Wellington Nova Scotia
Distance Traveled: 0 km (41 km)

"Dave's Not Here"

My first roof in a few days, having not really that much experience in bad weather camping. Nice guys, can't remember what they looked like.

As I figured, the rain didn't stop until around 10 Atlantic Time. I spent most of the morning writing my precious day's journal just as I am now writting yesterday's. Accurate records are NOT kept this way. I will apologuise now and hope it doesn't happen again.

About 11 am a breeze picked up. My tent being both wet (inside & out) and with lots of air circulation, had become a sleep-in freezer. I decided a fire was in order. I was very lucky to find a 2 meter stump that was not only dead by also a tad punky and dry. The closest I'll get to good tinder. An hour and 10 smoking fits later, I had a mediocre fire supplying enough heat to stop my chattering teeth.

At this time, I had observed a number of different people pass through the park either jogging, carrying fishing poles or walking their dogs. The last fellow I saw come through was an interesting character to say the least. He said his name was Joe and he joined me for a time, built up my fire and was quite congenial considering he looked like he had rolled off the train only 30 minutes before it pulled into station.

He left me for a bit but returned to invite me into his brothers house only a 2 minute walk away. After turning down kevin & his girlfriend last night, I jumped on the opportunity for a worm, dry, comfortable bed. I accepted.

After drowning the fire, breaking camp and packing a wet bag, I hiked for 2 minutes, out of the park to Bob's Bait. Joe invited me in, poured me a drink and I supplied my own hour and a half of virtego. I met Joe's brother Bob and his nefew David. I got a huge kick out of answering the phone with “ Dave's not Here” and meaning it.

Aparently this 20-year-old kid is wanted on call at work 24-7 and by every able-bodied woman in Halifax County. I met him and he found him to be a poster-boy for today's nice-young-man.

Bob reminds me much of my step-father. Although he is much more expressive with his moods and with a strong Nova Scotian accent. I can relate with him only on a cetain level. I liked his way of speaking, his views on economy and the missmatched way he has decorated his home; guitars glued to the ceiling and maple bark on the walls. Very “man's territory”. I laid out the tent in his basement and hit the couch around 11 pm (Atlantic).

Day 02 - On with the show

Date: May 2, 2002

Location: Laurie Park (Closed) North of Wellington Nova Scotia

Distance Traveled: 26 km (41 km)

"On with the show"

This entry was probly the hardest one to write, being the first day on the road and the first evening alone in a strange province. I was quite terrified. Roberta made a point of reading this one out loud at our wedding reception so everyone would know of the fear I felt that night.

I didn't sleep well at all. The cold was biting from all sides, especially the ground. I had made a lousy camp and was suffering for it. But the worst was not the cold from the outside, it was the cold which claimed my thoughts. I was so scared, I wanted to just die. It took me a long hour of shivering and crying to finally get out of the tent. It may have been my cold breakfast, the morning fog or even just moving freely that kind of brought my senses about.

I gritted my teeth, still sore from chattering, and broke camp. Yesterday, while still in town, I passed an outdoors discount warehouse and purchased a thing called a kidney belt, to replace the garbage I was using already. This may be the first saving point of my adventure for I'm sure I would still be in Bedford, crying to mother for a ticket home. But as it is I decided to carry my guitar seperate from my pack, alleiviating the stress on my back if not my feet. I popped some calcium and vitamin c, then continued on into Bedford.

I'm starting to think that perhaps I should have purchased a seperate atlas for each of the provinces instead of a full Canadian atlas. I've asked directions a number of times, but the people here don't seem to use the same soncept of Highway numbers as we do in ontario. If a road connects two towns, the chances are it will have the same name in each, and what the procince designates in between is of no consequence to the people who actually live there. Even the local sherrif's had a hard time understanding that I'm looking for Hwy #2 and not Rocky Lake Rd. In Belleville ON, we always refered to Dundas as Hwy #2 even when we're standing on Dundas in the middle of town. Everyone in my area knows all the major Hwy's as 62, 33, 49, 37, 7 & 2.

Outside of Bedford, past the quarry a bit. I snapped a photo of a large hawk or eagle nest at the top of a telephone pole. I would say it was a hawk, but I'm not sure. It seemed bigger. I will just have to wait until I see the photo's again.

Now's the time for congratulations. I would like to thank constable Eric Jeanson of the R.C.M.P. rescently transfered from Amherst NS for being the first person who stopped and asked about my quest. Though we didn't talk long, he was a charismatic person and left me his card if I needed anything while I was in his juristiction. That reminds me of Ken. For some reason, I want to call hime Follet, but he never told me his last name. He met up with me twice today. We joked about people who are all gung-ho and talk about walking Europe or travelling anywhere and when it gets right down to it, they back out citing numerous excuses why they can't.

Then I met Kevin and his girlfriend. They offered me a ride, and I, of course had to decline. But they knew this camp ground I was deading for and asked if I was sticking around for awhile. By this time it had started to rain. So I mentioned that if it was still raining tomorrow, I may just hang around and rest a bit before I left again.

I set up camp in the rain. I'm very sorry Anna, but I am really not going to walk 100 meters back to my pack, hoisted 10 meters in the air every time I forget something. Instead, I tied the bag about 1 meter off the ground, to the trunk of a tree and set the tent right next to it. It's about this time that I discovered my need for seam sealer. The rain isn't quite going straight through the walls, but it may as well be.

Day 01

Date: May 1, 2002

Location: Highway 7 North of Halifax Nova Scotia.

Distance Traveled: 15 km

I helped keitha move out this morning, and gave her a big hug as she climbed into the cab. She was extremely supportive, as she should be; acting as my PR agent and all. She asked me this morning if I was ready to go. I replied that indeed, I was not ready, but I'm going anyway.

This has been a saving point for me in the past. I grade 9, an aquaintance once wrote in my yearbook " courage is knowing you are afraid, and continuing anyway". We didn't know each other very well, and I'm sure that she meant it only as a nice epitaph, but it stuck with me ever since. It has been and still is the best advice on could give. It made me a good skater because I didn't allow influences, competitors or crowds intimidate me. I was afraid, and for good reason. but I turned that fear into a fuel. I lit my terror like a propane torch and did what I needed to do, wanted to do and loved to do.

Just getting a little off topic, I'm having serious doubts about my gutar. I love her dearly and she has been my prized possession for a number of years, but today, she's been worse than a task master. She weighs the same as my pack (including hard case) and she's destroying my back. If anyone needs a hardshell gutar case I'm selling it for $60. I'll throw in the Fender for $400. You can find me walking the highway, a young man with an old walk.

Day 00

Date: April 30, 2002

Location: Room 420 Kings College Girls Dorm (Alexandra Hall), Halifax Nova Scotia.

Distance Travelled: 0 km

This is the first entry in my journal dating back to and specifically written about my walkabout adventure across the East Coast Provinces. someone may notice the room number I was in during this post, and it is accurate. The room was my sister Lesley's when she was a student at Kings College. She had the chase off the pot heads all the time who would just show up to hang in room 420.

I've only an hour ago, participated in a CBC Radio interview with Matt Raighny down at the studio. Keitha and I were quite impressed with the setup and technology they used. (I'm always impressed with technology!)

Yesterday, I had a wonderful interview with Raymond Shepard of CKDU Dalhousie Radio. He had all of his... pardon me... "work" together - he most likely actually visited the WTE site - and had prepared a question sheet for me so that I may be more prepared for the interview. He asked a good variety of questions ranging from family to how will I afford to pay for everything I need. I really felt that he had an interest in what I had to say.

After the Interview, he took a moment of his own time to discuss with me his own personal views about the lost generation. I found him to be supportive of the walk, it's goals and mandate, not to mention very communicative and on-the-level. I hope to meet him again in the future.

I suppose my interview with CBC wasn't quite what I had expected. I wasn't really over-prepared, but I was braced for an impact that never came. I thought about his questions too much, I didn't answer with short, direct, concise prases. I waited pounce on the directive, but there was no lead.

As a lesson in the future, I should not anticipate the extremes. Be prepared, but know that anything can happen. Even the simplest of mice can escape the cat watching the wrong hole.