I can now scratch Beaver Lake Trail from my list of local attractions to visit. I've been interested in walking the trail for a few years now but could never find where it actually was. Today I asked and I now know why it's hidden away. There were indications from the very start that this trail simply wasn't worth the effort but I chose to ignore them in my excitement at actually learning its location.
I should have known to abandon the quest when one toe-nail into the adventure about 4000 buzzing insects exuberantly decided to join me every step of the way. Determined, I picked up my speed and kept my mouth shut. I got to marker number one and scanning ahead I could see that the path had not been visited for some time. It was hugely overgrown with ferns. It's not hard to cut a path through ferns so despite my new insect "friends", I soldiered on.
Not too much further in, I found the trail had been flooded and was a boggy mess. There were fallen limbs imbedded in the mud and so I found myself leaping from one not so solid perch to another to traverse to the next marker with dry feet. Limbs flailing, mind racing to find the next safe spot to jump to, I laughed out loud at how rediculously difficult this trail was proving to be. I managed the whole 4.5 km of it with only one soaker, a fact I consider quite miraculous given the nature of the trail and my not so athletic physique.
As a swatted, swathed and hopped, I kept telling myself that it was worth it to press on. I was sure there was a glorious hidden vista awaiting me somewhere along that trail. When I got to Beaver Lake, sweaty and wondering how much more blood I could afford to give to my buggy companions, I laughed again. The glorious vista turned out to be a thick row of overgrown trees. Through the foliage I could glimpse small patches of blue, all that could be seen of the trail's namesake. So much for that amazing photo op.
Raven's Pond on the return hike didn't prove to be any more picturesque. The lookout spot obviously had not been attended to. Again, the trees were so overgrown that one could hardly see that a pond lay beyond. At that point, I didn't care. I just wanted to jog away from the 3000 other insect friends that had joined the party that formerly was 4001 - me and the 4000 bugs I started with.
My only stop on the return leg was to admire some inukshuks built on a part of the Canadian Shield and to console myself that obviously I wasn't the only fool that had traveled the trail hoping to see something, anything spectacular. Now I know. The old map I've been holding onto for years is going in the recycle bin today and hopefully no one else will be as persistant as I am at ignoring the signs.
