![]() The clouds drooped to cover the high summit and we changed from birds soaring in graceful swoops to ants marching up a mountain with no top. ![]() On the summit, the trail resumed its tightrope meandering, which was still spectacular, but now no longer felt endless as we approached the wide bulk of Mont Logan. The clouds above formed an upside down ocean of laminar waves, watched warily.Īfter a magnificent mile, the ridge took on a different character as it turned steeply downward through a slope of talus then bounced back up to Mont Fortin. A fresh breeze blew cool kisses, accepted gratefully. I took a deep breath and followed, ready to be present and enjoy this special trail to the maximum. Eventually, the orange stripe of her sleeping pad disappeared over the next rise. A tiny SpiceRack on an epic trail.Īfter taking a short break on a deep mat of lichen, I watched Spice trace the aesthetic line, getting smaller and smaller as she disappeared into the vastness ahead. I would have taken a left for the ride to Mont Collins (and loved it), but Spice set me straight on the right path. I found myself overcome with joy and horrendously turned around. This was the trail of my dreams, a style that was featured heavily on the CDT and explains why I love that trail so well. The thin ribbon of crumbled rock tread cut a bright track across the green slopes, disappearing into a stand of dwarf pine, reappearing on the next bald shoulder, carrying my imagination with it. The trail swooped from a T-junction both left and right, riding along the steep edge of an open ridge line. What waited on the other side was the transition between land and air. I felt my spirit take flight as we passed over flat top of Mont Matawees. ![]() I recognized them as stages where Spice and I had acted out a string of one-off performances, the memories of which I hoped to carry with me for a long time. However, their significance did not fade in my mind. Looking back, the streaked cliffs of Nicol-Albert and the inconspicuous plateau of Mont Blanc, once so prominent, now faded into the crowd of anonymous green lumps. Ferns to grass, hardwood to stunted pine. As we ascended, the flora changed to reflect the transitioning climate zone. Nicol-Albert? Mont Blanc? Or just another hill amongst many.Ī solid gray ceiling and cool temperatures provided perfect hiking conditions to ease us into the day as we chugged up the final crux of the long valley. ![]() A pot of Spice’s hot coffee washed it down and pushed us from under the roof, back onto the trail. And with a seemingly bottomless food bag, I had no reservations about indulging my raging hunger, gulping granola and trail mix like the good ol’ days on the AT. My guts were feeling great after Spice’s tender care last night, so I could fart with satisfying impunity, which seems like a small thing until that privilege is misplaced. #Ambiance stikers fullThe day broke full of optimism after a peaceful night of sleep in the shelter. I was excited to reach the sea, but not before a final frolic above treeline. Now it was time to enjoy the ride over and around the final major summits of the Canadian itinerary, if not of the rest of the entire ECT. In Matane, we’d proven to ourselves that we could hack it in these mountains. All the postcard pictures I’d seen of this mysterious Chic-Choc sub-range of the greater Appalachian Mountains were taken within Gaspésie. Not that the coming miles and mountains would be a cruisy victory lap, but something about the “national park” designation seemed to promise exceptional reward for the exceptional effort. ![]() Now we looked ahead to Gaspésie, arguably the jewel of the IAT, or so I had come to speculate. Matane had been hard, no doubt about it, and we had made it through feeling stronger than ever thanks to Spice’s considerate planning. Marking this milestone, in combination with successfully collecting our resupply boxes yesterday, I felt a lightening of the mental load. Near the top of the spectacular Mont Matawees we exited Matane, soon trading the intimidating wariness of that notoriously difficult section of Quebec for the excited anticipation of Gaspésie National Park. Ruisseau Bascon Shelter to Le Kalmia CampsiteĮlevation change: 5417ft gain, 5597ft lossĪ gradual climb to start the day carried SpiceRack and me into the alpine and the next phase of this adventure. ![]()
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