06/11/2026
The Red-Carpet Experience
By Sylvie O’Rourke
I wasn’t sure today’s hike was going to happen. After yesterday’s summer-like temperature, this day was beginning to look like a letdown. But here we are driving to Charleston Lake, and would you believe it is snowing? Just yesterday, I was wearing a t-shirt and capris. This yo-yoing climate sure keeps us on our toes.
We have arrived at the parking lot for Blue Mountain and the precipitation, thankfully, has stopped. I am wearing a fleece jacket topped with a puffy one, long johns, a woolen hat and gloves. It is cold and windy out in the open fields. We are all wearing layers and backpacks ready to mix and match our outfits as needed. We must walk down a country lane for about 1.5 kilometers to get to the trailhead. Having been here a few times before, I am aware of the rough condition of this approach, which also doubles as an ATV trail. It is always muddy and wet. Today is no exception, however, I am pleasantly surprised to discover the addition of a couple of foot bridges on the side of the road, permanent structures to bypass the largest and deepest of the puddles, which are themselves icons of perpetuity.
The trail itself is as I remember it, winding through mostly pine and oak forests on rocky terrain interspersed with more mud and water. There are a couple of higher terrain detours to avoid the worst of the mucky spots. A light rain has now started, and we pause to exchange our outer layers for water-repellent ones to keep as dry as possible. Like trash pick-up sticks, my hiking poles have been collecting stacks of decaying leaves along the way. We cross several bridges on the path, one of which looks down a stream which has been obstructed by a beaver lodge.
As we start a gentle incline, I start to heat up and off come the hat and gloves. The drizzle has stopped and before long, we find ourselves reaching into our backpacks to make clothing adjustments. I opt for removing both the fleece and the rain jacket and replacing them with the lighter puffy jacket as a single layer. It’s nice to have options, but I am starting to feel like the red carpet of pine needles we are treading is more of a fashion show runway.
We reach the summit, and not a moment too soon. My stomach is growling! My lunch today consists of carrots, hummus, a hard-boiled egg, a mixed bean and corn dip with tortilla chips, a leftover vegetable samosa, and an apple. But before digging into this feast, I need to put my toque back on. Up here, we are exposed to the elements, and it is windy and cold. For some reason, all the oak trees up here have hung on to their brown leaves. Apparently, this is called “marcescence,” and is an adaptive strategy that is not entirely understood by us mere humans, but that doesn’t stop us from speculating. In any event, I’m sure the trees know what they are doing. Perhaps, like us, they just want to be dressed for the elements.
The descent is a little quicker and involves minimal pauses for un******ng and redressing. Also, we are visited by cheerful sunshine, if only briefly. Our 10-km hike, with all its detours around mud and water hazards ends up clocking in at 11 kilometers. The fickle weather doesn’t stop at the base of the mountain. On the ride home, for a short while sun and rain greet us simultaneously. I half expect a rainbow to pop up, and for all I know there is one behind me. But the crowning touch comes later when I am blissfully resting in my Lazy Boy recliner: Hail!
As I sit here and look at my day’s photos, I can’t help but chuckle. Because of the assortment of colourful jackets, it looks like there were twice as many of us. Our mountain-trek became an impromptu fashion show filled with outerwear, base and mid layers, fleece, down, wool, moisture-wicking fabrics, sturdy footwear and gaiters. Overall, the diverse weather elements we experienced in a few short hours with its resulting frequent apparel adjustments made for a memorable experience. Perhaps it is time to build our model portfolios.
SDG & A Cornwall Seeker, June 2026, page 16
