On 2005 October 4, I had hiked down the Railway Trail towards the Strait of Canso from Troy and found myself halfway down the isthmus which separates Long Pond from the Strait of Canso, seen in this photo taken that day, with the Canso Causeway in the distance below Cape Porcupine:

Due to time constraints on this particular day, I was unable to explore much past this point and, given the state of the ATV tracks one sees in the photo, I was not even sure that the Railway Trail actually followed the isthmus, though the maps I had showed that the railroad had done so. They also showed that the isthmus terminates where the outflow of Long Pond enters the Strait of Canso and, from the highest boulder I could find, I could see no bridge that connected the isthmus to the land below the outflow of Long Pond. Since that day, I have been attempting without success to locate the actual southern terminus of the Railway Trail. Each year, the Visitors’ Information Centre indicated that it had not been completed, but was scheduled to be completed in the “near future”, though follow-up questions resulted in no good information on where that terminus would actually be. No one else I asked had any definitive information either. From the Canso Canal Park, and along the parts of the Canso Causeway I walked from there, the isthmus was clearly visible, but whether it connected back to the land south of Long Pond was not, its lower end being hidden behind the Canso Canal itself and the off-limits buildings which line it.

On 2007 October 5, I got lucky. I happened to be in the area for the opening Celtic Colours 2007 concert at the Port Hawkesbury Civic Centre and, since it was a gorgeous day, stopped off again at the Canso Canal Park to take some pictures along the Causeway. As I was returning to my car in the parking lot, a gentleman in a van struck up a conversation, having recognized me from cèilidhs I attended this summer. We got to talking about the Railway Trail and I asked him where its southern end was. His answer was that I was standing very close to it! The photo at the right shows the structure in the Canso Canal Park that marks its end.

Moreover, he said that it was indeed possible to access the isthmus since a bridge had been laid across the Long Pond outflow at the time work was carried out on the other bridges on the Railway Trail some years earlier. That day, where it passes behind the buildings that line the Canso Canal, the trail itself was being worked on, with a fine sand base being laid and packed. I walked out to the bridge just to prove to myself that I really could get to the isthmus. On 2007 October 16, I hiked from the southern terminus to the northern end of Long Pond, a distance of roughly 3.8 km (2.3 mi), and back on a nasty day with strong gusty winds, rain, and even some sleet and hail; it was nonetheless a very pretty hike in its own way, with water crashing into Ghost Beach and, driven by the wind, splashing high above the boulders that line its shore. The trail across the isthmus still needs considerable work to bring it up to the standards of the remainder of the Railway Trail: I found it very rough walking and, as before, only ATV tracks mark much of its course across the rocky, uneven spit of land, though of course there’s absolutely no way to go astray. Nonetheless, I was thrilled that I had finally completed the entire trail!

The Trous de Saumons (Salmon Pools) Trail begins at the Cape Breton Highlands National Park Visitors’ Center outside Chéticamp and follows the Chéticamp River, sometimes well inland from the river, for 6.5 km (4 mi), passing by several salmon pools as it flows through the steep canyon it has carved.

My first time on this trail was 22 June; that morning started with dubious weather, but had some hints of sun by noon, so I decided to finally explore this trail. There were still many clouds, some obscuring the summit of Montagne Noire (Black Mountain) and my late start didn’t leave enough time to complete the entire trail in time to make an evening concert, but I did get past the First Pool on this hike and got enough of a taste to know that I wanted to do the entire hike on a more photogenic day.

That opportunity came 27 July, when I returned on a beautiful day with a mostly clear blue sky. The weather couldn’t have been better this day and I took lots of time along the river, soaking in the gorgeous views. Much of the initial portion of this trail runs inland from the river through a beautiful forest, while the rest of the trail generally follows fairly close by. The trail is named for the salmon fishing pools which line the river’s course, each of which, with the exception of Chance Pool, has its own sign proclaiming its name. From Fence Pool to First Pool to the two short side trails beyond First Pool (one of which must be Chance Pool) to Second Pool to Third Pool, each has its own character and offers its own distinctive view of the river.

Except for Fence Pool, each of these pools has a falls upriver of it and usually a rapids below it. The pools themselves are quite deep and are places where the salmon rest and gain strength to ascend the falls. These falls constrict the flow of the water into one or multiple narrow channels; the word chute is perhaps more descriptive of these falls, as the water barrels down the channels with great force rather than falling over a defined edge, as one usually thinks of a water fall. As one moves upriver, these falls become progressively higher.

An integral part of the scenery on this hike is the Cape Breton Highlands which form on each side of the river the canyon through which it flows. As one proceeds upriver, this canyon constantly narrows. At several points along the trail, I had the distinct impression that I was looking up an inclined plane, down which the water was tumbling, so pronounced is the tilt of the land at these places. Although what one is seeing are actually the edges of the Cape Breton Highlands Plateau, they appear to be mountains and the several prominences each have their own individual character. Only the majestic mountain one sees upriver of Fence Pool (and from several other vantage points in the Chéticamp area) has its own name, Montagne Noire, probably so named for the dark cliffs about two-thirds of the way up its side; the rest are unnamed, but no less impressive for being anonymous.

Perhaps my favourite view amongst the many stunning views this trail provides is the one above at the site above First Pool of the former foot bridge, whose foundations on either side of the river are still clearly visible (though not in this photo). Here, the falls are roughly 1-2 m (yd) high and the mountain rising upriver of the falls is simply awesome as one gazes up at it from far below.

Another ten minutes upriver, from a red, rocky scree path, one has the scene above that I found completely compelling in its wild beauty: the boulder-strewn fast-flowing river careens around a bend of the canyon whose walls tower high above it.¹

Except for one moderately steep hill of about 100 m (328 ft) immediately past the trail head and for another climb of approximately the same height between Second Pool and Third Pool, the excellently-maintained trail is generally flat, with only an occasional knoll to traverse.

I have known of the existence of this trail for several years, but, not being a fisherman, its name didn’t sound all that exciting to me and I never made an occasion to see what was there. When I read about the trail in Clarence Barrett’s Cape Breton Highlands National Park: A Park Lover’s Companion, a couple of years ago, I added it to my “to-do” list. I regret that it took me so long to discover this beautiful trail because the portions of the Chéticamp River and its canyon visible from the Trous-de-Saumons Trail are simply gorgeous. Moreover, this trail is very easy with not much climbing. In the future, I will certainly be back again and again to enjoy its beauties as long as I am able to hike.

¹ For more photos, see both my Chéticamp River photo essay and my detailed trail description.↩

Last year, I described here my first time on MacDonalds Glen Road, which I encountered hiking the Cape Mabou Road to the south from near its junction with the Glenora Falls Road. Since I had still not learnt where MacDonalds Glen Road comes out in Northeast Mabou, it remained on my “to-do” list for this year.

Monday, 2007 July 2, I drove out to Mabou Coal Mines, parked at the side of the road across from the black mailbox bearing the numbers 1426-1500 that I knew from last year marked the western end of MacDonalds Glen Road, and headed east down the road, determined this year to learn where it came out in Northeast Mabou. It was one of those “in-between” days, with plenty of sun and lots of clouds and with a nice cool breeze blowing that made a perfect day for a hike through the Cape Mabou Highlands.

MacDonalds Glen Road starts out as a drivable gravel road. After hiking twenty minutes down the road, one comes to a bridge at the bottom of a V-shaped glen. Beyond this point, the road is still probably drivable with a car, but there are certainly some questionable spots where gravel has washed out, leaving ruts one has to straddle. After another fifteen minutes, the road ceases to be a gravel road and becomes a forest path; it is impassible for a car and is really suitable only for an ATV, though some truck tracks were pretty clear in the muck near where the brook has taken over the road.

As with last year’s hike, I found it very pleasant indeed walking along MacDonalds Glen Brook, whose gurgling sounds gave joy to the spirit. This year, I made sure I had my woods boots, so was able to traverse the spot where the brook has taken over the road in two minutes, instead of the nine it took last year trying to keep my feet dry, though I had to change into and out of the boots, since nowhere else were they needed. The uphill trek wasn’t all that hard, though I did have to stop and rest three times on the way up to catch my breath.

After a pleasant rest at the junction with the Cape Mabou Road, where I enjoyed the pretty views of the highlands seen in the photo above while having some water and an apple, I continued on down the road. From this point on, MacDonalds Glen Road is a generally fine gravel road, drivable by car. On foot, it took me about fifty minutes of hiking to reach Northeast Mabou road; it was an easy hike, all downhill with no steep grades (though the return hike reminded me that it climbs as much as the trek up from Mabou Coal Mines). This section of the hike does not have the same intimate feel as the section from Mabou Coal Mines to the Cape Mabou Road, as one has left the forest and is now out in the open. Initially, one is high enough that there are fine views of the Highlands with even a peek or two at the Creignish Hills in the far distance, but as one descends, it becomes very much a walk along an untravelled country road (the only vehicle I met the entire day was an ATV). While there are no great panoramas, there are nevertheless scenes of interest all along the way, from brooks to flowers to glimpses of Mabou Mountain as one approaches Northeast Mabou. Very near the end of the road, there is this fine view of Northeast Cove (the mouth of the Northeast Mabou River), the Mabou River, and West Mabou which I had not previously seen.¹

When I reached Northeast Mabou Road, I found myself across from a garage bearing the number 110. I had passed by here a great number of times, but, due to the garbage bin where MacDonalds Glen Road joins Northeast Mabou Road, had always taken the former for a private drive rather than as a public road. I had nevertheless finally satisfied my curiosity and, in doing so, had a very fine walk in the Cape Mabou Highlands that I can recommend to anyone.

¹ For more photos, see my detailed trail description.↩

I had previously hiked only the very short segment of the Braighe à Bhaird (Poet’s Ridge) Trail which runs from the northern end of the Gleann Sidh (Enchanted Valley) Trail to the MacKinnons Brook Trail and was somewhat misled by the steepness of this segment into thinking that the rest of the trail was going to be equally steep. Since I had hiked all of the other trails in the system except for this one, I decided it couldn’t be any worse than the Beinn Bhiorach (Steep Mountain) Trail or the Làirig Na Creige (Rocky Hillside) Trail, both of which, though with considerable difficulty, I had hiked in both directions. Following the advice in the Cape Mabou Trail Club map, I chose to start at the eastern end where the Poet’s Ridge Trail meets the MacEachen Trail.

Four minutes in from the junction, after a relatively easy climb up, I could see the Gulf of St Lawrence to my right through the trees. Another five minutes later, mostly downhill, I was on a ridge with a fine view, seen in the photo below, of the flanks of Beinn Bhiorach (Steep Mountain) rising above Gleann Sidh (The Enchanted Valley) and the path the Rids An Daraich (Oak Ridge) Trail takes as it ascends from MacKinnons Brook Trail to the summit of Beinn Bhiorach along its western side.

There are actually two routes across Poet’s Ridge, the “main trail” and the “cutoff”. I followed the cutoff until it began to descend sharply and turned around and came back to the main trail, where I followed it as it descended towards MacKinnons Brook Trail. About twelve minutes later, I was within view of the coast, looking south towards the mouth of MacKinnons Brook. I enjoyed my lunch, soaking in the beautiful views, and continued on to join first the Gleann Sidh (Enchanted Valley) Trail and then MacKinnons Brook Trail. It was downhill all the way—not at all the hearty slog I was expecting, though it would have been plenty tiring had I done it in the reverse direction!

So far as I am aware, the gorgeous views of the aptly named Poet’s Ridge Trail are not available from anywhere else in the trail system. I can highly recommend this trail and, as so often is the case, I shake my head in sorrow that it took me so long to discover it. I will certainly be returning here in the future!

On my last year’s hike along the Cape Mabou Road, described here, I noticed a road that I assumed led to Foot Cape and added it to my “to-do” list to explore. On 2007 July 24, I scouted out the Foot Cape end of North Highlands Road by car and discovered a lovely grove of trees a bit past 410 North Highlands Road; not far beyond that, I had to turn around as I thought it unwise to attempt to continue further by car.

On 2007 July 30, a warm cloudy day, I left my car at the side of the road across from 410 Highlands Road and set off down the road. I chose a cloudy day for this hike as I did not expect many views and was more interested in satisfying my curiosity than in anything else. After about 1.25 km (0.8 mi) of gentle to moderate climbing, I reached the base of the hillside up which North Highlands Road climbs to reach the plateau above; the ascent is sharp, gaining 120 m (394 ft) in 0.5 km (0.3 mi), and left me winded, so I rested frequently as the road wound up the mountainside through several sharp curves. As I had expected, there were only occasional tree-obscured views to the south.

Once past the hard climb, the gravel road changes first into a sandy lane and then a grassy one as it levels off, though it does continue to climb, gaining another 60 m (196 ft) over the next 0.7 km (0.4 mi). The remainder of the trek to Cape Mabou Road passes through forested land and by a fenced hayfield, but only gains 20 m (66 ft) over 2.7 km (1.7 mi); here, one also sees several cleared areas which look to be the remains of homesteads occupied by the numerous Scottish pioneers who settled along this road in the 19^th century. Because it had begun to mist and was threatening worse, I didn’t explore any of them to see whether I could find any old foundations. There were also five very large and deep puddles on this part of the road that I had to skirt with considerable effort as I had stupidly left my woods boots in the car, not thinking about the two other hikes on the Cape Mabou Road where I also needed them!

As it nears Cape Mabou Road, North Highlands Road turns back into a gravel road again. At the junction, I was pleasantly surprised to notice that I could see across the White Brook ravine to the communications towers in the pastures at the South Highlands, just past the Cape Mabou Trail Head. I didn’t remember that that was possible on my previous hike—I must have had my head down when it should have been up!

On the return trip, I was not as successful in negotiating the ponds as I had been previously: I slipped and got one foot wet while edging along one of the huge puddles. It didn’t much matter as my shoes were already soaked from the wet grass and the rain, which, by then, had stopped. The real surprise on the return trip was the views which I had missed previously because they were then to my rear. About ten minutes before the grassy lane changes into the gravel road that descends the mountainside, views of Lake Ainslie and of the mountains beyond appear. About four minutes further on, there are also views of the mountains to the south towards Riverville, Smithville, Hillsboro, Mull River, Glencoe Mills, and River Denys Mountain; given the very dark skies, it is hard to tell which mountains I did see or how far away one could see on a good day. Moreover, the photos I did get were taken by balancing on small boulders at the side of the road—it would have been great to have been high enough to see over the trees! But I was expecting no distant views at all and instead got two different sets here, so I really have no cause for complaint.

All in all, this turned out to be a much better hike than I had originally anticipated. The beautiful grove, the unexpected views of Lake Ainslie and the hills to the south, the captivating back country walk in my beloved Cape Mabou Highlands beside field and through forest haunted by memories of the original pioneers, all contributed to mitigate the unpleasant weather and make for an enjoyable time. Although I found the climb arduous, it was worth the effort; I suspect I will most likely return here on a good day to see just what the views really offer and perhaps even to do some exploring of the sites that I thought might be old homesteads. And I’ll certainly remember to bring my boots!

For additional information, see my detailed trail description, which also has some photos taken on the hike.

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This trail starts at the north end of the Cape Smokey Provincial Park’s parking lot and, after skirting a deep ravine, comes back to the coast and crosses the Cape Smokey plateau, following cliffs that rise 280 m (925 ft) above the ocean, to reach the Stanley Point Look-Off at the north end of Cape Smokey (well outside the provincial park boundaries), a distance of some 5.5 km (3.4 mi).

I had known of this trail since 2003, when I hiked to the first look-off about eight minutes from the parking lot, but didn’t continue on down the main trail because of time constraints in the day’s schedule. On my subsequent stops there, either the weather failed to make exploring this trail sufficiently worth while photographically or I lacked sufficient time—it needs a good half day, so the trail languished on my “to-do” list until this year. On 2007 August 10, I drove the Cabot Trail north along the St Anns Bay coast intending to do some hiking, but without any firm plans, since the weather along the Atlantic coast can be unpredictable. When I arrived at Cape Smokey around 10h45, the day was perfect for photography and the combination of bright sun and mild weather also made it a fine day for a hike. Since I was unlikely to ever have a better chance than this day, I added water and refreshments to my backpack and, after studying the trail map at the trail head, started off down the trail.

Pat O’Neil, in her Explore More! A Guide to Hiking and Outdoor Adventure in Cape Breton, compares hiking this trail to a roller-coaster ride; that assessment is a bit of hyperbole, but the trail does have a goodly amount of up and down, usually fairly easy and occasionally moderate (forcing me to pause for breath), but never steep: from the parking lot’s 260 m (850 ft), the trail descends to about 175 m (575 ft) as it skirts the ravine and then climbs back to 280 m (925 ft) to cross the Cape Smokey plateau before again descending to 170 m (550 ft) at the Stanley Point Look-Off. 2007 was a year of extraördinary rainfall and there were a number of wet spots on the trail, some easily traversed on footbridges or log bridges already in place and others which had to be skirted (and even then I got my shoe covered with muck at one point, though my foot stayed dry). The path is badly overgrown in a couple of spots and I found myself wishing I had worn jeans rather than shorts. A dead tree across the trail above the Stanley Point Look-Off required a tiny bushwhack. But for most of its course, the trail is in generally good and often excellent condition. It lacks signage, but needs none as its course is unmistakable.

Between the parking lot and the Stanley Point Look-Off the trail is punctuated with six railed look-offs at cliff edge, each with benches from which to enjoy the views. And, except for the sixth from which only the ocean is visible, what marvellous views they are! The first is to the north and shows the ravine and the Cape Smokey plateau; the second is close to the rock face one sees from the first and has good views of it and the rocks below; the third, fourth, and fifth have fine views of the coast from Wreck Point at the east end of Cape Breton County’s north coast to Boularderie Island, Cape Dauphin, the Bird Islands, Kellys Mountain, St Anns Bay, and the edges of the Cape Breton Highlands plateau as they recede into the far distance along the St Anns Bay coast; these views are similar to those from the parking lot, but from a vantage point considerably further to the east, giving a better view of St Anns Bay, and, from the fourth and fifth look-offs, considerably higher as well, with the advantages additional elevation brings. Along the trail on the north edge of the ravine and from the fourth look-off there are fine views to the west of Smokey Mountain. Once one reaches the top of the Cape Smokey plateau, the trail traverses the terrain typical of the Cape Breton Highlands plateau, forested, boggy, and accidented. Stanley Point Look-Off, at the trail’s end, offers spectacular views to the north and west as stunning as the views from the third, fourth, and fifth look-offs, but of totally different scenery: South Bay Ingonish, Ingonish Harbour (only the northern half is visible from the look-off, given its siting), Freshwater Lake, Ingonish Beach, the Clyburn Valley, Franey Mountain, Middle Head and the Keltic Lodge, North Bay Ingonish, Ingonish Island, Ingonish Centre, Ingonish, and the coast to the north. One can see the peaks on the distant northern coast of Cape Breton Island above the lower Cape Breton Highlands in between and St Paul Island is visible far away in the Cabot Strait.

I can heartily recommend this trail without reservation; its views of the Atlantic coast from Wreck Cove in the east to St Anns Bay to the waters off Ingonish and to the north are among the very best on Cape Breton Island. Just be sure to pick as beautiful a day as the one that I so greatly enjoyed, as the haze that is often encountered along the Atlantic coast, even in summer, can severely impact the distance one can see.

For photos of the views from this beautiful trail, see both my Cape Smokey photo essay and my detailed trail description.

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This heading is a place-holder for a section yet to be added.

This heading is a place-holder for a section yet to be added.