A walk in the woods (and a run towards the danger)

It started with the idea of going to a concert, and it wound up including a few days of getting lost (quite intentionally) in the woods.

It also included conquering a fear, getting out of a comfort zone or two, and seeing things from a slightly different perspective.

Martha and I had a getaway earlier this month in Ontario. We had been in Toronto just a few months ago, and had no plans then of heading back so soon, so you can blame Pat Metheny for that. When we were in the city in June, I learned the legendary jazz guitarist would be playing Massey Hall in October. I sighed and shrugged, but Martha had another idea: while I used my frequent-flyer points for June, she offered hers for October.

Game on!

Pat Metheny is a bucket list musician for me, and yes, the concert was wonderful. A little bit more on that below.

We thought about renting a car beforehand and darting around a few places in Ontario to visit some friends. Well, that was the thought for a short minute. The next thought was the logistical difficulties in lining up friends’ itineraries to match this spur-of-the-moment idea: wasn’t it a bit rich to assume people would be available mid-week on our time table?

Soon enough, I had another idea: what if we just disappeared somewhere, the two of us, and just did … nothing?

Game on, again.

Martha consulted with friends about spas and other relaxing ideas, and somehow we learned about an inn in Haliburton, about three hours north of Toronto. The timing sounded appealing: the foliage of the woods would be in peak colours in October. It sounded lovely.

And it was.

The place had an on-site spa, and so for the first time ever, I had a hot stone massage. The idea of it felt decadent, although the massage therapist quickly learned what I already knew: my back is a bit of a mess. I used to get massage therapy regularly until a few years ago, and my upper back muscles were like boulders. My self-care agenda now includes getting back into that rhythm.

We took advantage of the surroundings to drink in the autumn airs and views, and we also signed up for a couple of activities. One was a boat ride around the lake we fronted. This is premium cottage country, and some folks obviously spend more on what we Newfoundlanders call “the cabin” than many others would dream for a house. Many of them were, indeed, houses. Our guide pointed to one impressive structure, which has its own elevator. Rustic living!

We signed up for something else, too. A treetop walk.

Now, I had some expectations, based on something we did years ago at the legendarily beautiful Kew Gardens in London. The Treetop Walkway there is an elevated platform that allows visitors to walk near the tops of enormous trees; it’s as wide as a trail, with ample room for people to pause while others walk by, each at their own leisurely pace. Here’s a peek, from 2018.

That is pretty much what I had in mind when we added the “walk in the clouds” tour at the nearby Haliburton Forest and Wildlife Reserve to the itinerary.

Very quickly though, I learned better. On arrival, I was curious about why we would need four hours or so for a gentle stroll on an elevated platform.

There was, of course, no elevated platform — at least, not as we experienced it at Kew.

Instead, the Canopy Tour, as the privately operated park calls it, is a series of 26 connected suspension bridges, each just wide enough to admit one walker at a time. You can pause to drink in the scenery, sure, but you’ll be holding up the whole tour!

It all looked a bit rickety — from a distance, like something out of an Indiana Jones adventure — but it was all safe … as long as you’re properly outfitted.

Each of us donned harnesses around our legs and on our waists, and we used carabiner clips along a series of wires … just in case.

OK, I thought. I can handle this. I was actually more concerned about the canoe ride we would need to paddle there and back, as I have been dealing with a troubled tendon in my right rotator cuff.

Anyway, I was good.

Martha? That was another story.

Here’s the thing to know: Martha is afraid of heights. She’s the sort of person who will not look down from an impressive vista. She backed out of part of our tour of Barcelona’s fabled Sagrada Familia when the elevator took us as high it could go, and she realized she could not. At the CN Tower in Toronto, the see-through floor was one step beyond.

And here’s the other thing to know. Martha packed up her fears that day, and went for it. She got into the harnesses, and she climbed up, and we were off.

It was exhilarating. The two of us were logically paired together, and I helped Martha with her clips as we removed them from one line and attached them to the next.

She stepped along each of the shaky, creaky wooden steps, and after several segments, was cruising along.

Martha drew inspiration from a book both of us quite liked: Sarah Polley’s Run Towards The Danger, a collection of essays that culminates with how she faced and overcame enormous fears after suffering a concussion. The advice she was given: you can live in fear of being hurt again, or you can choose to live life fully, and run towards your fear.

That afternoon, dappled in the autumnal light of a boreal forest, Martha ran toward her fears. She did not literally run along the course, although as you’ll see in this clip, she had quite a good pace by the end!

She was delighted with herself, and with good reason. We had so much fun.

A postscript

Early in 2024, I appeared on St. John’s author Trudy Morgan-Cole’s Shelf Esteem podcast to talk about Run Towards the Danger (and some other books we each had been reading). You can listen to it here on Trudy’s page, or in the player below.

Another postscript

The Pat Metheny concert at Massey Hall was splendid. Consider the bucket list duly shortened.

I’ve been listening to Pat Metheny pretty regularly since the 1980s. His current tour is behind an album called Side-Eye III+. While he’s been working as a trio lately, his touring band is five strong, including himself. It is reminiscent of his Pat Metheny Group era(s).

The setlist for the night (you can read it here) covered Metheny’s career, from a youthful start in the 1970s through his maturing group period (especially with his longtime collaborator, the late keyboardist Lyle Mays) through his collaborations with Ornette Coleman and David Bowie, and up to the present. His four encores (!) included two solo acoustic medleys.

One wrinkle in the show was offstage, and indeed to my immediate left. Two men came to the concert, um, refreshed, or “tired and emotional,” as the British satirical magazine Private Eye would describe what otherwise would be called drunk. One of them was excessively drunk, and unfortunately combative. I was the third person to ask them to be quiet. “I came from Newfoundland to watch him, not listen to you,” I told them. Well, that was it: the guy heckled me for the next two hours, often as a “hick” lost in “the big city.” Hoo boy. “My friend, I am so sorry,” said his companion as he edged past us at one point, presumably for the washroom. Anyway, we got a story out of it, and in the end it didn’t take away from the show.

A much happier event: a surprise reunion with our old friend Rick Janson, who had come in from Oshawa to see the show. Neither of us had seen Rick in quite a few years. Rick, who was coincidentally just a few rows behind us, was kind enough to drop down for a chat just before the show started. Delightful.

Here’s In On It, the first song Pat Metheny played that night (after the band marched to the stage).