travels with janne

It gives me great pleasure to have Danish friends withme to Nature’s Nest and to show them the wonderful country I come from. Thisyear, two friends visit with me for two weeks. Apart from enjoying life at the
cabin, we go on excursions.

One of the places we visit is the tiny coastal village Blue Rocks, not far from Lunenburg. I keep coming back to Blue Rocks because it isso picturesque, no matter what kind of weather, and the rocks are fascinating.

We also go to Digby, one of the towns along the coast of the Bay of Fundy, where you can see the highest tides in the world.

We hike through a forest in the fog towards a natural attraction called Balancing Rock. It appears as if the nine metres high column of basalt rock is balancing on one toe like a ballerina and you wonder why it does not tip over. However, on closer examination, you can see that it was once one large piece of rock but that much of it has eroded away.

We drove out to the western tip of Nova Scotia to go whale watching from Brier Island. I have been on several whale watching tours before, but never one as exciting as this one. After hours and hours of sailing and not really seeing anything other than the occasional dolphin and the usual seabirds, we ended up in the middle of a feeding frenzy. How lucky can you get?

We arrive at a spot where humpback whales have gathered to feed on herring. The huge animals collaborate in a technique called bubble net fishing. They circle around their hapless prey, blowing bubbles to confuse the fish and concentrate them in a tight ball. The humpbacks then open
their enormous mouths, lunge upwards out of the water, grabbing a huge portion of fish and water on the way up. Their baleen bristles filter the fish from the seawater. It is amazing to see this in real life, quite close up and with so many whales involved.

My friends and I also go backcountry canoeing in Kejimkujik National Park for a couple of days. We see snapping turtles and what I think might be the protected Blanding’s turtle. We see a loon family with mom, dad and downy brown youngsters. We set up camp on Frozen Ocean Lake. The Peace and quiet are total. We swim, hike, make a campfire, eat and sleep. Life is reduced to the simple things.

At Nature’s Nest, my cottage on Tupper Lake in Nova
Scotia, my closest neighbour is a beaver.
The two of us enjoy the quiet evenings on the lake. I
sit in my newly acquired Adirondack chair, gazing out on the still water and
the ever-changing light. The beaver enjoys her evening meal.She is not alone in her beaver lodge, though. During
the first days of my stay at Tupper Lake, at the end of July, there are three
beavers. Every dusk, almost like clockwork, their dark shapes glide through the
water, leaving a characteristic watery V in their wake. The beavers meander from lily pad to lily pad,
munching on the greenery as they go. I believe it is a mother beaver with two
progeny. Twice I hear them communicating with each other with a sound like
suckling puppies.

After a week, there are only two animals in the
evenings and then, after four to five weeks, only one. I suppose the young ones
have gone to find their fortunes somewhere else on Tupper Lake. By the end of
August, I can hear that the remaining (adult?) beaver is active on land. During
the day, I can see the results of her nocturnal labours. She has been busy
gathering branches and twigs from the woods, piling them on top of her beaver
lodge in preparation for winter.
I like the idea of sharing my wood with a beaver and
other animals. One day, as I am sitting quietly on the veranda, reading a book,
a large creature of some sort comes barreling by. Branches break, leaves rustle
noisily. It is as if the creature was suddenly startled and took flight. All I
see is something kind of round and fuzzy – definitely not a deer. I think maybe
a raccoon but they are normally nocturnal so what’s up? I peer through the trees (on the right in the photo above) and spot what looks like two thick,
black, furry front legs and a furry black chest. “Jeez it’s a bear,” I say aloud
to myself. I gather up my lunch things and go inside, then go outside again.
The creature, whatever it was, is long gone. I am sorry to have frightened it.

I enjoy the biodiversity at Nature’s Nest and this
area in general. I have seen beavers, loons, deer, eagles, an osprey, ducks,
hummingbirds, chipmunks, squirrels, frogs, toads and, maybe, a bear. At night,
I have heard two kinds of owl, raccoons and bullfrogs. Driving at dusk, on my way
home from visiting friends, I have seen raccoon, porcupine and deer. A lynx and
her cub have been caught on a webcam on that very same road. I am aware that coyotes
can be in the area.
Wild asters, sundew, cranberries, blueberries, Virginia
meadow beauty, lily pads, maple, hemlock, spruce, shockingly orange mushrooms
and various greenery I have not yet learned to identify are part and parcel of
Nature’s Nest.

I catch my first glimpse of the North Sea and think ofthe pilgrims returning from Jerusalem or other holy places after years of travelling by foot or wagon before their final journey back to Norway or Sweden. It must have been very heartening for them to see the sea!

Further on, there is a spring, Our Lady Spring, where travelers would quench their thirst. Many people passed this way. A church was built (Lerup Kirke), and a market developed. Then it started becoming bawdy and raucous, and the merchants brought their livestock into the church. A priest finally got fed up, complained to the bishop, and the market was closed.

The next day’s walk, according to the guide, is 23 km. Not true! I end up  walking 30 km in nine hours, exhausted again. However, the landscape is very pretty and I have it more or less all to myself except when I pass through summer cottage areas. I see two kinds of orchids and some butterflies.

The walk ends in the beach resort town Blokhus, which is where my grandparents had a summer cottage many years ago. I still have fond memories of visiting them there when I was two years old going on three and again when I was six going on seven. Those were my first two visits to Denmark – but that’s another story. I remember the smell of heather, the feel of the North Sea wind, the warmth of the sand in the dunes and the new potatoes. And of course my wonderful Danish grandparents.

And so ends this summer’s hiking on Hærvejen. I walked a total of 150 km in the most amazing summer weather we have had for years and look forward to next year, where I will hopefully be able to complete this crazy project. Just another 100 km and I should be done.

Jutland is the peninsula that sticks up from Germany
and is mainland Denmark. However, it is not all in one piece. The northern part
is actually unattached to the rest because the fjord Limfjorden cuts through
the peninsula all the way from west to east (or east to west if you prefer).

So when I cross from the main part of the mainland to
the northern part of Jutland over the bridge at Aggersund one fine June
morning, it is a milestone for me. Northern Jutland is the last leg of my
journey up through Denmark from the southern border to the northern tip!The landscape is nothing to get too excited about on
this leg of the trip, and the going on the asphalt road is hard on the feet.
This leg of the journey is just something I have to get through.

A couple of weeks later I return to North Jutland to
resume the hike. I start early in the morning, feeling fresh and perky, and
make good time. In the guide it says the next hostel is 22 km from here. Not
true! I arrive nine hours and 32 km later, totally knackered.

Tired body aside, as I expected, this is the loveliest
part of the whole hike through Denmark. Still and shady woods, and wild and
windswept heaths are punctuated by checkerboards of farmers’ fields. They are
all at their best on this warm and sunny, perfect summer weekend. For hours, I meet not a soul. I pass by a Common
European Viper sanctuary (as quickly as possible. Yuk!). Fortunately, I do not
see any snakes, but just the thought of their presence in the vicinity makes my
skin crawl.

Later on, I pass though summer cottage area and meet
people, many of them Germans, which is quite unhelpful when I get lost. The
signs showing the Hærvejen route seem to drop out of sight so I take a few
wrongs turns adding to the already rather long walk. I see Denmark’s only
heather-covered windmill at Grønnestrand, but am too tired to walk closer to
take a picture.

Leaving the town of Skals in the spring of 2018, I
follow the old railway, which has been turned into a hiking path. When it was
still an active railroad, the rail company planted woods on the east side to
avoid snow on the tracks. I do not know why on the east side because the
prevailing winds come from the west, but that is what the sign by the path
says.

FACT CHECK: One of my readers has told me it is because when it snows the wind usually comes from the east. That makes more sense. Thank you Bjarne!

Anyway, later on there was a shortage of firewood, so many of the trees
were sacrificed.
During World War II, more trees were felled because
the German occupying force did not want Danish resistance people hiding in the
woods. Since then, it seems that no one has bothered to plant new trees so all
that is left now is a tiny wood, with the emphasis on “tiny”. Nevertheless, the
birdsong is markedly more active than when I reach the open, agricultural
landscape. What a difference trees make!

I hike for three days, covering 70 km. The first
couple of days are mostly on asphalt roads, through agricultural countryside,
which is hard on the feet and a teensy bit boring. I see a few deer and
pheasants, but otherwise just cultivated fields, windmills and other signs of
human influence on the landscape. On the third day, some of the route takes me
over gravel roads – easier on the feet – and through woods, where I see a
lizard, a hare and a (dead) shrew. Ho hum. However, it is hard not to be in a
good mood when everything is fresh, new and green and the sun is shining.

The summer of 2017 starts out okay with sunny and dry
weather in May– perfect for hiking. I don my new hiking shoes and start walking
from the woods around the old town of Viborg to the chorus of early summer bird
song. Such a symphony of happy chirps, tweets (not the Trump kind; the nice
kind) and trills! All the little birds vying with each other to catch the
attention of a mate while all I have to do is listen. The beech leaves are
unfurling in a refreshing, almost luminescent light green. I pop a few of the
fresh leaves in my mouth and enjoy the lemony taste. The agrarian landscape is
also greening with grain or bursting in dazzling yellow rapeseed flowers.

Walking in my own thoughts I meet a deer who is also
in its own thoughts – so much so that it does not even notice me so I get quite
close. I also spot a hare, a colourful Eurasian bullfinch (dompap in Danish), herons, swans, swallows, Northern lapwing (vibe in Danish) and a pheasant cock
lying down and chilling out. Denmark is so life-affirming in May.
I pass through Hjarbæk, a cozy village by a fjord.
After a break to remove shoes and socks and cool my feet, I continue onwards.
The landscape becomes hilly and affords great views over the fields and fjord.
Following a now defunct railway, I reach the town of Skals. This town had a rather
curious production some years back. They used to gather up the seaweed that
washed up on the shores of the fjord, rinse it in rainwater or river water to
get rid of the salt, dry it and bale it. The resulting product was used in
mattresses. It was exported to France and Germany during World War II and was
quite the industry – hence the establishment of a railroad.

The town of Skals was my goal for today – a mere 20
km, but a nice way to start the hiking season. It turns out that this is the
only hike on the Hærvejen in 2017 because the summer of 2017 turns out to be
really crummy with cold, rainy and unpredictable weather.

Here are sights and sounds from the Amazonas rain forest, cloud forest in the Andes, and the far-flung volcanic Galapagos Islands in the Pacific:

Ecuador has so much to offer: incredible biodiversity,
rainforest, cloud forest, mountains, beaches, far-flung islands with unique
animal and plant species and balmy weather in addition to good food (like
roasted guinea pig – yum!) and nice people. Just think – I have seen 119
different bird species in the space of two weeks not to speak of snakes, frogs,
lizards, iguanas, insects and land and sea mammals. What a treat!It is a gift to visit such a biologically diverse
country. People from urbanized, intensely cultivated or just generally
environmentally depleted places should have a taste of this so they know what they
are missing and understand why nature conservation is important. This world has
already lost so many species and is making life difficult for those that remain.
Do we really want coming generations to inherit a world where farm animals,
pets, crows and ants are all that are left?

Surely, we can find ways to combine nature,
agriculture and urbanisation without making a mess of all of them. With those
words I will leave you to enjoy the last of my photos and thank you for
following me this far.