My parents were pretty strict about watching TV or playing video games. Unless a hurricane was blowing onto shore, we were not allowed in the house except to eat, sleep, and do homework. Our dad loved to hike. Were we grew up, there wasn’t a lot of great hiking areas. There were some good hikes, but not great. Thankfully, the Cabot Trail was only about 4 hours away.
We would leave the house at about 6am and get to a trail between 10:00 and 10:30am. There may be nothing more beautiful in this world than reaching the summit of your hike on the Cabot Trail. This is truly God’s country.
We would bring our lunch, typically peanut butter and banana, and stair out over the ocean (pronounce ho-shen). On a clear day, it felt as if you could almost see London England. The ocean is a shade of blue that I will never forget. It seems as though it is a warm blanket that could ward off any evil in this world. It is hard to believe the amount of destruction it is capable of.
In the summertime, the Cabot trail is a mix of green and gray vegetation and rock. It is both tranquil and violent. It is one of my favorite places on this earth.
After four or five hours on the trails we would pile into the vehicle and head to a camp site for the evening. The camp sites would typically be off of highway 219 (P.E.I.’s side of the trail). One of my favorites is MacLeod’s. It is simply a stunning site to spend an evening or weekend with family. My memories of MacLeod’s are typically the first hour or two spent at the beach while Dad would set up the tents. Dinner would usually be hot dogs over the campfire. Dead branches would be used to hold the wieners over the flame. After dinner, we would down to the beach to catch the sunset. Sleep wouldn’t far off. It seemed that the fresh air would always kick our collective asses.
In the morning we would pack up and head home. Usually stopping in Truro for a late breakfast / early lunch.
These are some of my fondest childhood memories.
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