Boyne Valley

On March 25, 2026, I made the spontaneous decision to embark on an impromptu hike. The drive to the trailhead took about an hour during which I could hear Mia softly snoring in the backseat; getting all rested up for our days hike. Meanwhile, Oliver was sitting anxiously right behind my driver's seat just waiting to get out of the truck. As we arrived to the trailhead, I changed the pups into their hiking backpacks and I got all my gear on as well, we started the hike at 9:15 am.  The weather was absolutely delightful for an outdoor excursion, hovering around zero degrees Celsius. Despite the chill in the air, it felt invigorating, and the lack of wind made the conditions even more pleasant. The sun, although still shy, was attempting to break through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the landscape and hinting at the warmth it would eventually bring.

Start of the Hike

We started our hike through open fields. As we meandered along the trail, we were approaching a couple who were enjoying their own leisurely stroll. They had one dog on a leash and then oddly they had another dog with them, unleashed.

As we approached the couple, I noticed the off-leash dog starting to make its way towards us. Not wanting any interactions with a random dog, I simply asked them if they could kindly secure their other dog. The couple responded with a smile, informing me that the dog was not theirs but rather an old farm dog that was known in the area for its good behaviour and gentle disposition. Despite their assurances, I felt a wave of apprehension wash over me. Even though they described the dog as "well behaved," I had no prior experience with this animal and couldn't predict how it might react, especially in the presence of my two dogs, who were both curious and excitable.

As the off-leash dog continued its approach, I felt my heart rate quicken. The idea of an unfamiliar dog coming too close made me uneasy, as I was concerned about how it might respond if it felt threatened or if my dogs acted in a way that provoked it. Meanwhile, Oliver and Mia, with their natural curiosity, began to engage with the approaching dog, by barking and howling at it. The off-leash dog eventually stopped its advance, seemingly content to observe us from a slight distance, which alleviated some of my tension. I decided to carry on with our walk, feeling a bit more at ease.

After a moment, I noticed that the off-leash dog had turned back towards the other couple it had initially been with, seemingly ready to return to their side. However, as we continued on our path, I glanced back only to realize that the dog had instead chosen to follow us. It trotted along behind us, its demeanour relaxed, as if it had decided that our little group was far more interesting than the couple it had been with moments earlier.

Mia, ever the social butterfly, seemed particularly intrigued by her new companion. She approached the dog with her tail wagging enthusiastically and took some time to sniff it, engaging in the age-old ritual of canine introductions. Oliver, on the other hand, displayed a marked indifference to the situation. He maintained his pace, occasionally glancing back at the dog but showing no real interest in interacting.

As we continued our hike, the old farm dog kept pace with us, its presence adding an unexpected element to our outing. I couldn’t help but watch the dynamics unfold between Mia and the new dog, while Oliver remained steadfast in his disinterest.

Our new companion and guide for the start of our hike.

The dog eventually went in front of us and was leading the way. It literally entered a bush and stood there waiting for us to follow it, as if it was telling us that the Bruce Trail goes this way. When it went in front of us, that is when Oliver started freaking out and he started crying and talking because Oliver wants to be first; he doesn’t want to follow anyone. Once we entered this small bush, the dog either seemed to lose interest or knew that he was too far from home and decided to return the direction we came in.

After we travelled through the bush, we entered an open field where we put up two deer.   The dogs didn’t see them at all, as they were too concerned in the smells right before them.

While we were out in the open fields with the sun shining down, warming me significantly, I often thought about taking off my jacket. However, just as I had that thought, we would head back into the woods, where the coolness would hit me like a wall. I was then glad I hadn't removed my coat. In the fields, there wasn't much snow left because the sun was melting it, but in the woods, there was much more snow and ice since the sun couldn't reach it.

By the time I got to the road, I decided to take off my jacket because I was starting to sweat. I immediately regretted it as the road was more exposed, and a breeze hit me. Midway through, I wished I had kept my coat on. However, I decided to endure the uncomfortable cold since I had assumed we would be heading back into the bush. This is just one of the joys of hiking when the temperatures fluctuate. I'm always tempted to remove my jacket, only to regret it later. It's also bothersome to take it off and put it back on because each time, I have to remove my backpack and tie or untie my jacket from it. Just the little annoyances of hiking. Haha.

While on the road, since the path was particularly easy to navigate and the weather was pleasant, I decided to take a moment to check my Bruce Trail App and see just how far we had hiked so far. To my delight, the app indicated that we had covered a distance of 4 kms in just one hour. This realization prompted me to reflect on a previous hiking experience I had with Jared in the Bruce Peninsula, where we had tackled a much shorter distance. I vividly recalled that during that hike, we had only managed to cover 3 kms, but it had taken us a grueling two hours to do so. Read about that hike here: Peninsula Failed Hike. It was a reminder of how crucial the environment is to the overall hiking experience. Factors such as the type of terrain, weather conditions, and even the time of year can all play pivotal roles in determining how we navigate the trails.

Boyne Valley

Once we entered Boyne Valley Provincial Park, I was immediately struck by the expansive width of

the trail. The trail was super wide which allows for easy walking and ample space for movement. As I continued into the heart of Boyne Valley, its features evoke memories of Hockley Valley (in the Caledon Section). Similar to Hockley Valley, Boyne Valley is adorned with a plethora of small boardwalks and charming bridges that gracefully traverse the various little waterways meandering through the landscape. These boardwalks not only serve as practical crossings but also enhance the aesthetic appeal of the park, providing picturesque views of the flowing water below.

Within the Provincial Park, we began our ascent up a steep hill, the path ahead presenting a formidable challenge. The walkway we were navigating was incredibly narrow, measuring perhaps only a foot to a foot and a half in width, which made each step feel precarious. The surface was covered in a thick layer of pure ice creating a slick and treacherous footing that demanded our full attention. As we carefully maneuvered along this icy path, Oliver and Mia scrambled to gain traction. Their nails were digging into the frozen ground with determination to be the lead dog. Since the trail had narrowed for this incline, they were both fighting for traction but also for that coveted first place spot. Fortunately, I didn't struggle as much as the pups because I was wearing my IceBug boots which have studs on the bottom specifically created for gripping ice.

Murphy's Pinnacle

By the time we reached the top of the hill, the path opened up and led us out into a clearing. As I took in the surroundings, I could see a massive steep hill looming majestically in front of us, and atop it stood a man, a little girl, and a cheerful dog, all enjoying the panoramic view. Since we were hiking out-and-back, I knew our turnaround point was just beyond the lookout. I decided we would hike to our turnaround spot first and visit the lookout on our way back. I hoped this would allow the small family their own time at the lookout, so that when I arrived, I could enjoy it by myself as well. As luck would have it, my plan worked out beautifully. On our way back, we encountered this small traveling group again. The little girl, with her bright eyes and infectious enthusiasm, eagerly asked to meet Oliver and Mia, my two loyal companions who were wagging their tails in excitement. We exchanged a few friendly words, sharing stories of our hike and the sights we had seen. Eventually, we both wished eachother a fantastic rest of our days and went in separate directions. With a sense of anticipation, I took the very short 70-meter side trail that led to the top of Murphy's Pinnacle, eager to see what awaited us there.

Once we reached Murphy's Pinnacle, we decided to take a well-deserved break and soak in the beauty of our surroundings. This remarkable geological formation is actually a kame, which is essentially a hill composed of sand and gravel that was deposited by glacial meltwater during the last Ice Age. It was said that from this vantage point, one could see the iconic towers of Toronto rising in the distance. Although I wasn't specifically searching for that view at the moment, I certainly didn't doubt its existence, as the expansive vista stretched far and wide from this elevated position. As we settled down, we took out our water bottles and a few snacks, enjoying the sustenance while relishing the serene atmosphere. The wind was quite aggressive up there so after a short while, I gathered our things, feeling recharged and ready to continue our journey back to the truck. The hike had been invigorating, and the stop at Murphy's Pinnacle added a memorable highlight to our adventure in the great outdoors.

Return Hike to the Truck

On our way back, we found ourselves facing the icy hill once more. Ya, remember the one we had to climb up. Same one! Now, however, we were confronted with the daunting task of descending this icy slope, which, in my perspective, felt far more intimidating than the climb up. I reminded Oliver and Mia to be cautious, using the word "Gentle," which they have learned to associate with the command to slow down and proceed with care. As we began our descent, I found myself chanting "gentle" almost like a mantra, hoping to instil a sense of calm in both myself and the pups. Fortunately, not a single mishap occurred.

Every time we do an out and back hike, when we turn around to head back to the truck, Oliver transforms the moment into an exhilarating race, as if he’s competing against an invisible clock. His energy levels spike dramatically, and he takes off with a burst of enthusiasm that is both amusing and impressive. It’s as if he feels an urgent need to prove his speed on the return journey, darting ahead with a sense of purpose and determination. It feels like he’s trying to set a personal record for the quickest return trip. Once he figures out that we’re retracing our steps, his demeanour changes. He seems to think, “Alright, let’s get this over with; I’m done with this hike.” At this point, it becomes clear that he’s not particularly interested in revisiting the same sights and smells that he’s already experienced on the way out. The novelty of the hike has worn off, and he understands that there won’t be any new scents to explore or exciting discoveries to be made on the return journey. This realization prompts him to adopt a more efficient, no-nonsense approach to the trek back, as if he’s saying, “Let’s just get back to the truck.” However, after we’ve covered about a kilometre, he begins to settle down, gradually easing into a more leisurely pace once again.

We had three turkey vultures hustling to cross the Bruce Trail a short distance in front of us. I

instinctively stopped to give them ample space, allowing these birds to cross without feeling threatened or rushed. As we watched them cross in front of us, Oliver became increasingly agitated. He desperately wanted to rush forward and meet these big birds. Since he was crying and worked up, Mia who was relatively calm then decided to join the chaos and she too started crying from excitement. Once the turkey vultures had crossed to safety, we continued our walk which we definitely paused and had tons of sniffs in the area that they crossed.

We have almost reached the truck and suddenly, out of nowhere, Mia gets startled. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she quickly crouches while turning her head to look behind her, as if she sensed something lurking behind us. In an instant, her reaction catches me off guard, and I also feel a rush of adrenaline as I turn to look behind me, my heart racing. We both pause for a moment, scanning the area for whatever might have caused her sudden alarm. The trees stand still, and the path behind us is empty. There was nothing there! Just the serene surroundings that had moments ago felt so inviting. “GIRLLLLL!!!!!!” I exclaim, laughter bubbling up as the tension dissipates. It’s a mix of relief and amusement at how easily we can let our imaginations run wild in the quiet of nature.

Soon after Mia (and I) got startled we entered back into the open field. At this point we have hiked 16 km and Oliver bounces off to the side which he does when he’s hunting. How do they have energy to be sniffing and hunting? You have just walked for 16 km. You’ve been walking for four hours. You should be exhausted and not be doing anything but walking.  They just have endless amounts of energy. It’s crazy.

This day we hiked for 4.5 hrs and covered 17.20 kms altogether. Since we did an out and back only half of those (8.6 kms) can be contributed to the main Bruce Trail.

As Always Thanks so much for reading,

Kendal

Get out There and Find a New Trail!