In 1967, my brother joined the navy. It is purely coincidental that the Royal Canadian Navy is now celebrating its centennial in 2010.
In the 1960s, and perhaps to this day, the navy took boys from the west coast, shaved off their hair, put them in uniform, and sent them to the east coast by train. I was living with my parents in the suburbs and working in Vancouver, so I was the one who went to the train station in the city to wave goodbye to my brother.
It was also a coincidence that there was a red carpet leading out to the train. It certainly wasn't there for Clint Davies, or for any other naval recruit. (The Emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie, was traveling on the same train. The carpet was for him.)
It wasn't the red carpet that caught my imagination, however. It was the train. I love trains. For almost 40 years after that day, Mom and I talked about what a thrill it would be to cross Canada by train. We intended to do it, we really did, but we kept putting it off for most of those years.
In 2007, Mother died.
This year, wearing Mom's gold watch and Mom's gold ring, I rode a Greyhound bus to Calgary and another Greyhound bus to Edmonton, Alberta, so I could board the first in a series of trains to take me to the east coast of Canada.
One of the places I visited was Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, where I rented a car in the town of Baddeck, and prepared to drive the Cabot Trail. I wanted to drive the whole trail (a long day's drive) but accepted the fact that I might not be able to do it all. I only managed to drive 100km (about 62 miles) before I had to turn back, but the pictures above will give you a glimpse into the beauty that is Canada's Cabot Trail.
Photos by Kay Davies.
Posted for the Shadow Shot Sunday meme.