Tuesday 18 August 2015

Day Forty, August 13: "Bicycles and Old Ruins." Clappison Woods to Hermitage, 16.9 km., 5.5 hours.


I left on foot from Annie's, and headed into the maze of trails that is Clappison Woods. The Trail meandered into a wooded area after passing near wetlands behind some big box stores.  A buzz of cicadas on one side and the roar of Highway 6 on the other nearly prompted me to dig out my earplugs.

I stopped for a bit near the highway to examine the ruins of an old homestead, and thought how interesting it would be to learn its story.  Then it was through the tunnel underneath the highway with its graffiti-covered walls, which caused a niggling worry of mine to resurface:  I don't believe I am at all ready to re-enter society. I climbed a set of steep stairs up the escarpment and turned away from the graffiti, the noise, and those thoughts, for the time being.

The escarpment was topped with meadow swaying in the breeze, big heads of Queen Anne's Lace floating gently atop. Goldfinches and grasshoppers greeted me, and once more I found I could hear myself think. I followed the Trail across a road and entered RBG lands. They had placed many birdhouses in their meadows, and there were more rock ruins to explore.  Overlooks offered views of Hamilton, Burlington, and beyond, with the ubiquitous turkey vultures soaring below.

I paused to read the many interpretive signs throughout the Rock Chapel area.  The Trail arrived at a beautiful stonework bridge over a stream, and after crossing it I noticed a huge orange fungus atop a stump, bigger than a cauliflower, and had to stop to take pictures of it.

I reached a hydro tower and followed the Trail directly between its legs.  I fervently hoped walking through them wouldn't have the same effect as walking underneath a ladder.

Then a change of pace:  the Trail headed down, and through the streets of Dundas. There were plenty of interesting old houses to admire, but I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't still up top, where I could see other hikers on overlooks.

A train passed over a stone railway bridge above my head, the big iron horse heading for faraway destinations.  Then the Trail took me through a golf course's utility area, where mounds of cedar chips delighted my olfactory senses.  The path beyond was a bit hair-raising, though:  local children on their bicycles use it as a thoroughfare, which required me to jump out of their way more than once.

Dundas Conservation Area was a pleasure to hike through, as always.  I stopped to gaze at an algae-topped pond, with its many geese, dragonflies, and different kinds of frogs.  The railway station-inspired Trail Centre had just closed when I arrived, but there were many interesting interpretive signs to read.

The Hermitage had changed immensely since I last saw it:  it is now a huge pile of rubble, with a few pallets covered in rocks, all laid out in a pattern.  I imagine the reassembly will be like completing a jigsaw puzzle.

The day ended with a dear friend picking me up and taking me into Dundas for a nice supper. There was a bit of miscommunication as far as the meeting place went, and after a bit of a wait I ended up hiking another 2+ km. out to the main road, but the extra hiking took me past the original sulphur spring, which was interesting to see.

During supper, the young waitress noticed my Bruce Trail maps and we struck up a conversation. Michele wants to plan a three-day hiking trip on the Bruce and was looking for suggestions as to location.  Then it was back to Annie's for another relaxing night.

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