Awww c'mon. Who can't find a mountain ?

For some time I'd been wanting to visit Blue Mountain.  It's a hill, in a wilderness park within the border of Halifax Regional Municipality, that when climbed, affords a lovely view of the area.  Last Sunday, the planets aligned, the temperatures cooperated and I had a pretty good idea where it was, so I went.

Wendy and I set out early Sunday morning for an allegedly "easy" hike.  Though it was a sunny, mild day, some paths remained ice covered.

The instructions I'd found directed me to keep bearing right to find the trail.  However, I couldn't resist following a small unmarked side trail to see where it went.  It lead to a small land-locked lake, with a lovely natural open spot that invited me to come back in the summer and linger longer.  I vowed I would.

After a couple of kilometers of walking I spied a wet, barely legible cardboard sign, limply hanging from a tree.  I walked over and smoothed it out so I could read it.

Coyote Traps - HRM Bylaw # ? - Dogs on leash !

Slightly alarmed by the warning, I immediately called Wendy to me, and snapped on her leash.  We walked barely 20 or 30 feet down the road and  found ...

coyote scat.  Fresh coyote scat.

Continuing on, we arrived at a fast-moving, frigid, stream.  I had read that I'd have to cross a stream to get up the hill, but was surprised that there was no bridge across it.

Not to be deterred, I made my own bridge.

Not pretty, but it did the trick.

Once across, I was met by a clear-cut hill.  I wish you'd been with me.  You would have put two and two together and figured out that I wasn't on the right trail.   What wilderness area has cardboard signs, warning of coyote traps ?  What wilderness area would be clear-cut ?  But you weren't there, and I foolishly, plodded on.  I convinced myself that I was following a trail.  Instead, I was walking in the track of some sort of machinery.  With Wendy's help we slogged to the top of that hill.  At that point, tired and frustrated upon being met with a wall of trees and no trail in sight, I realized the sad truth.  I was going to have to go back to to looked for the correct trail.

You will notice that I never say I'm lost.  I just consider myself to be, mildly mislaid.  Not sure where I am, but I know how to get back, and hence, I'm not lost, I'm just not going in the correct direction.

Oh good grief.  I now had to pick my way back down the messy clear-cut hill, over the damn stream (without falling in) and along a couple of kilometers of trail.  And that's where I saw these trees with little ribbons in them.  My problem had been in following the directions to keep bearing right.  The path was to the left.

And there was a bridge over the stream.

This marker, which says "1991" on one side.  Couldn't quite figure out what the other side said.

In the middle of winter, the lush mossy wood was a marvellous sight.

After a steady uphill climb, we finally reached the top.

Yep.

It was worth it.

Don't you agree ?