At the point the trail seemed to merge with a tree so I just kept going

By Bhaktimarga Swami

 

I believe in the saying that I once saw on the back of someone’s t-shirt that reads “to know the land you have to walk it.” When trekking you see everything close up- the plants, the terrain, all that moves and all that does not. You detect the temperature, textures, and tastes that the outdoors provide. You greet and meet people and in doing so it is inevitable that you may acquaint yourself with some local history.

It’s important to indulge in some history. It is events of the past that play a significant role in shaping the future or at least what we have now. Even as we live through a nasty Kali-yuga we can rejoice at the fact that many negative elements have morphed into a Vaishnava culture, a culture that immerses in sacred song, dance, and drum.

After completing a pilgrimage across the U.S. from Boston to San Francisco via New York, I made a decision to mark territory by footsteps with assistant brahmachari-extraordinaire, Karuna-Sindhu. In June of 2018 we began to blaze a trail on Canada’s oldest footpath, the Bruce Trail. Just 205 years before, during the War of 1812, a daring woman by the name of Laura Secord (yes, the famous chocolate is named after her) took a strenuous walk for 20 miles/33 kilometres through mean forest of swamp, creeks, sometimes rocky and sometimes low and high ground. She made history when she heard of a planned attack on British territory (now Canada). Through her, the British were informed of the impending American attack, and along with local Mohawk allies, were prepared for an attempted siege. Had she not made that venture Canada would likely not be.

Few people know that the U.S. and Canada, best buddies forever, were once at war.

It was at General Isaac Brock’s monument (a casualty of the war) that Karuna and I began this rather challenging trail, through some beautiful Carolinian forest, of mostly deciduous trees, near popular Niagara-on-the-lake. The trek is really more of a hike and takes a semblance of escarpment-climbing rather than being just a stroll in the park. I am not stretching the truth when I say that the first leg of this “hike” was a fun challenge wherein you watch every step taken. The trail which is just under 900 kilometres in length, is something we are trekking in sections.

The austerity is welcome though, because we are saffron-clad and that represents a certain level of strength and determination. After a fresh rainfall you find yourself trudging over slippery rocks and in some areas over broken rock matter that totters, forcing a smart balance of movement. Our chanting at such times is a genuine call for care from the Supreme Personality of Godhead. He’s on our minds, actually more so than Mrs. Secord.

Yes, Krishna is the ultimate master of help.

On Day # One we met Dracon, a young Chinese man, a server at a Chinese restaurant, who quit his job for this one month adventure of “peace of mind” as he put it. He was fully equipped for camping and roughing-it-up. Once he completed the trek the joyful chap emailed me to report that he reached the finish line in town, Tobermory. Then he asked, “Now that I’m finished, do you know where I can get a job at a restaurant?”

On one of the many segments a group of thirty young men, fairly new to the country, from India, took to the adventure of a lifetime with us, never having done anything like this before, including a dip in the Lake Ontario, prasadam, a kirtan, and a reading about the pastimes of our guru, Srila Prabhupada. This outing was a real treat for them, recreation and association. A Bhakti booster.

On another day, a senior trekker from Britain stumbled upon us, after winding through the hardwood trees. He hadn’t seen Krishna monks since the early 70’s at Rolling Stones concerts.

“Why did you become a monk?” he asked Karuna.

“I like the simple life.”

And I added, “We live the life of rolling stones. A rolling stone collects no moss.” That was a chuckle for him.

Also on the light side, one day we began our trek at a popular winery called “Meglamaniac” which is quite the nomenclature. Long time friend, Dr. Rakesh Bandhari, an official member and supporter of the Bruce Trail, came with us. The grapes grown locally were not as much interest to us as the wild grapes that are suspended from their vines along the way. Wild grapes, blackberries, and raspberries patches on the trail. We saw them as Krishna in the form of quenchy vitamin C fluids.

For me, breaking into a serious sweat became a natural occurrence but for someone like Alex, 28, who came one day, he could fly through the bush like a swinging Tarzan. It has been hot but it didn’t phase him. To address the climbs I invested in a pair of walking poles. They help immensely. I observed other walkers using these useful tools.

The sometimes slippery slopes, humidity, mosquitoes have all contributed to the discipline program but this is all squarely compensated by the good air and natural aesthetics of the escarpment, a well-preserved conservation. When I see how well such a place is maintained I feel that the spirit of the environment protection should be duplicated in our precious sacred space of Vrindavana, Mayapura, the Ganges, Yamuna and so on.

By the end of a usual four hour trek it became time to “call it quits” for the day when we go for a home visit to some nearby devotees for some wholesome prasadam. Janaki and Vaishnava from South Africa, now in Niagara Falls, have been great hosts.

When I trek through a place like the Bruce Trail replete with its green giants of walnut, oak, maple, elm, hemlock, ash, beech, hickory, pine and spruce, I think “This is therapy, and more.” I’m working leg muscles I didn’t even know existed. I have peers, God-brothers, who intelligently spend time in South Indian clinics. God help them, but currently, for me, the Bruce Trail is my retreat clinic. Beyond that! It is a paradise, a green Vrndavan, in some places, a jungly Jarikhand Forest, the likes of the green backdrops for Krishna and Chaitanya.

Oh, and while we are talking about green stuff, one home owner whose driveway is a piece of the Bruce Trail, noticed us, offered water and cannabis, the healing herb. We politely declined and let him know that chanting “Hare Krishna” along the path gets us high. In fact it is this, the pilgrim’s call, the mantras, that are allowing us to shape a little history apart from getting to know the land.