We spent the first few days as planned, making our way up through northeastern Maine (with a stop for blueberry softserve), New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia. The first day driving I felt like I had to plan everything and make sure the schedule was solid in my head. This vestige from working and a busy schedule in general in Boston soon drifted away. Within a day, I was feeling more loose. I started to embrace the random parks we'd stop for sandwiches made on top of the cooler, the excitement of not knowing where we'll set up the tent, and what we might find there.
It was a good thing I found my flexibility so fast, because early on we were faced with one big plan changing. There were some wicked wildfires roaring in central Nova Scotia, which caused the Cape Breton Highlands National Park to close all of their trails. We first heard tell of the trails closing from our tattooed camp host who asked, "Are you headed to the Park to NOT hike?". After snagging some Wifi from him, it was indeed true that all trails were closed, throwing a wrench in our plans to spend the next three nights camping and hiking in the park.
Fridtjof and I walked through our options and called an audible. Since we weren't too keen on sitting in a tent for three days straight with nothing to explore, we opted to settle into a cozy cabin for two of the three nights. We read as much as we could in 24 hours (a tradition called the Readathon we started when we both had Covid), watched a movie, and ate pancakes cooked by a delightful Dutch man at the Dancing Moose cafe. We remarked that we are blessed to be able to make a change in plan like this. Four years ago, when we did a similarly long road trip, we would have gritted it out in the campsites due to big egos and small bank account balances.
The general sentiment on Cape Breton island seems to be frustration at the trail closures. On the eve of tourism season, an island hours away from the fire is completely shut down. The other side we've heard less frequently is that it's good to do anything to avoid another fire. Either way, we weren't willing to risk breaking any rules as the fines for starting fires have soared to 25,000 Canadian dollars because the $200 fine wasn't deterring people. But what better way to avoid trouble with the Mounties and 48 hours stuck in a campsite than wrapping up with a good book with wooden walls between you and the wind off the ocean.
Sasha sidenote: I thought I'd add a tidbit about Sasha each post for those interested. While Sasha is not an avid swimmer, she is a big wave chaser. Once we found a few rocky shores in Nova Scotia (completely empty due to the hiking ban), she absolutely went for it. She tears up and down the beach, only allowing the water to come up to her chest, unless a rogue wave knocks her off balance. She barks in glee, snapping at each wave as it crashes into shore. Spaces like the ocean, where she can see for miles, are where she feels most free. The anxiety driven grey whiskers almost seem to melt back to black.