Why Is Planning a Trans Canada Trail Hike So Difficult?

Understanding why distances, daily stages, water, accommodation, and resupply are more complicated than they first appear.

 

“Expect the Unexpected, and you will not be disappointed.”

 

Professor Melvin, UWO Political Science

 

When a Line on a Map Becomes an Itinerary and then a Journey

 

When we began researching, figuring out and planning to hike across the nation on the Trans Canada Trail, we assumed that one of our greatest challenges would be covering the enormous distance between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. We expected difficult trails, challenging weather, unfamiliar situations, long days of walking, and the physical demands of travelling thousands of kilometres with everything we needed carried on our backs. What we had not fully appreciated was how difficult it would be to translate a line on a national trail map into a practical, day-by-day walking itinerary.

 

At first, the task appeared reasonably straightforward. We knew where we intended to begin, at Cape Spear, Newfoundland, and where we hoped to initially finish, on the Pacific coast of British Columbia. Between those two points stretched a connected national pathway that passed through every province, linking communities, wove indirectly across landscapes, followed historic routes, meandered recreational trails, and explored some of Canada's most remarkable natural environments.  A distance of approximately 5700km that one could cover in a car would lead us anywhere from 12,000- 14,000 km in hiking.

 

We had already spent considerable time walking established long-distance routes, including the Camino Francés in Spain, the Via Podiensis / GR65 in France, the Bruce Trail in Ontario, and the East Coast Trail in Newfoundland. Each had presented its own logistical difficulties, but they had also provided us with a general understanding of what planning a long-distance hike involved. We were accustomed to dealing with set stages, estimating daily distances, identifying accommodation and resupply options, and adjusting our plans to account for terrain, weather, and the limits of our own abilities.

 

It seemed reasonable to apply the same principles to the Trans Canada Trail.  Yet, what we gradually discovered was that the Great Trail did not lend itself to the kind of planning we had become familiar with elsewhere and that hikers apply to other long-distance trails. Although the trail was connected on a map, it was not a single, purpose-built hiking route with established daily stages, designated overnight stopping points, or a consistent infrastructure intended to support people walking across the country.  That distinction would become increasingly important as our journey progressed.

 

When we finally reached Victoria, British Columbia, in late 2022, we had walked approximately14,000 kilometres over 556 trail days, spread across four years. Our original expectations about the time required had proven considerably optimistic. Extreme weather, a global pandemic (COVID-19), changing circumstances, variable route conditions, and the practical realities of travelling through an enormous country had all contributed to a trek that took far longer than we initially anticipated. Eventually we were able to continue north, reaching Tuktoyaktuk on the Arctic Ocean in September 2025. By then, our coast-to-coast-to-coast undertaking had involved almost 18,000 kilometres of walking and 759 trail days over six years of hiking spread across seven calendar years.

 

Looking back, one of the most important lessons was that planning the Trans Canada Trail was never simply a matter of dividing the total distance by the number of kilometres we could walk each day.  It simply is not a route that can be divided into predictable stages, with guaranteed accommodations, water sources, and resupply opportunities each night.  In this way (as in many other ways) the Trans Canada Trail is both distinct and very different from any other long-distance trail in the world. 

 

Why Doesn't the Trans Canada Trail Have Regular Hiking Stages?

 

One of the most common questions about walking a long-distance trail concerns the number of stages required to complete it. People naturally want to know how far they should walk each day, where those days should begin and end, and how many nights they will need along the way. On many established hiking routes, these questions have relatively familiar answers.

 

The Camino Francés, for example, passes through a network of communities accustomed to supporting pilgrims. Although everyone is free to choose their own daily distances, guidebooks (John Brierley and Wise Pilgrim) commonly divide the journey into recognizable stages, ending in towns with albergues, restaurants, shops, water and other services. Walkers can shorten or extend their days depending on their circumstances, but there is usually a reasonably well-established framework to help them plan.

 

The Bruce Trail, East Coast Trail, and Fundy Footpath offer different models. They vary considerably in terrain, difficulty, accessibility, and available services, but each follows an identifiable walking corridor supported by route-specific information. Their guidebooks, maps, and associated planning resources help walkers understand where they are going and what facilities or access points may be available.  Stages, access points, and camp sites are clearly identified and relatively dependable along each of these trails. 

 

The Trans Canada Trail, however, operates on a different scale and according to a different model. It is a national network composed of hundreds of individual trails and connecting routes, developed for different activities and maintained by numerous organizations. A section may follow a former railway corridor, pass through an urban park, climb into mountainous terrain, continue along a rural road, or stay beside a northern highway for hundreds (if not thousands) of kilometres. Other portions of the national network follow waterways intended primarily for paddling rather than walking.

 

These differences are not minor variations within a single hiking route. They influence how a person can travel, what equipment they require, which services are available, and whether a particular route is suitable for walking at all.   Other factors also come into play, including varying physical ability, distances any one person can traverse, topography, weather, exhaustion, and the unexpected.   As a result, there is no consistent system of daily walking stages across the country on the Trans Canada Trail.  Indeed, I am not sure there ever could be a set itinerary that could be relied upon coast to coast to coast that daily led trail users to accommodations, food, and water – the system is simply too varied for such expectations.

 

A community might provide an obvious stopping place after twenty kilometres, while the next practical overnight location may require travelling considerably farther – such is the scale of the country and the TCT. In another region, accommodation might be available in several nearby towns, but reaching those towns could require leaving the official mapped route. Elsewhere, a trail section might provide excellent recreational access for local residents while offering little of the infrastructure needed by someone travelling through on foot for several consecutive days.  As such, the daily stages familiar from conventional hiking guides cannot simply be imposed on this kind of network.

 

In many ways these realities are central to understanding the Trans Canada Trail as a whole.

 

How Many Kilometres Should You Walk Each Day?

 

Before setting out, it is natural to calculate how long a journey might take by estimating an average daily walking distance. If someone expects to cover twenty-five kilometres per day, they can divide the anticipated route length by that figure and arrive at an approximate number of walking days. Heavens knows that is where we began – assuming that we would cover 35 km a day, we could finish the trail in 3 years!  While this is a useful starting point, it is not a realistic schedule.

 

Even experienced walkers do not cover the same distance every day. A comfortable 25 kilometres on a relatively level rail trail may bear little resemblance to the same distance on a difficult mountain route, an uneven forest path, or a busy highway shoulder. Heat, rain, wind, injuries, equipment problems, and accumulated fatigue all affect progress.  More importantly, on the Trans Canada Trail, the distance someone walks is not determined solely by their physical capabilities. It is also influenced by where they can safely stop each day.

 

A hiker may be perfectly comfortable covering 25 km but discover that the next suitable camping area or accommodation offering is still another 15 or 25 km away. Alternatively, a person capable of walking 40 kilometres might have to stop much earlier because there is nowhere practical to stay farther along the route.  Sometimes the sensible decision is to shorten a day. Sometimes it is necessary to travel farther than intended. Occasionally, neither option is particularly appealing.  Remember Canada developed along paddling routes, according to train schedules, and the distances people in cars like to travel each day – not according to the needs of people on foot.

During our journey, we repeatedly encountered situations in which the practical question was not how far we wanted to walk, but where we could finish the day without creating additional difficulties for ourselves tonight, tomorrow, and next week.  All of which soon become a source of mental exhaustion that can overwhelm you.   This becomes especially important when considering the weight of supplies being carried. A hiker with enough food for several days has different options from someone depending on reaching a store (I would not say a grocery store – get used to gas stations and variety shops) by evening. Someone carrying camping equipment may have more flexibility than a person relying entirely on commercial accommodation (though coast to coast I am not sure this is a viable expectation), but carrying a tent does not mean that camping is permitted – even if it is responsibly possible - wherever they happen to finish walking.

 

These circumstances are interconnected. The day's distance affects the amount of food and water required, while the supplies being carried influence how far it is practical to travel.  A fixed daily distance, stage, and accommodations cannot adequately account for all of these relationships.  As noted – the Trans Canada Trail is not the Bruce Trail, Wainwright’s Coast to Coast, or the Camino Frances.  Its length, the structure of the nation, each individual’s abilities, and circumstances en route undermine any attempt to make it so.

 

Where Can You Find Water Along the Trans Canada Trail?

 

Water is another question that appears simple until it is considered across thousands of kilometres of changing geography.  On some established hiking routes, guidebooks identify springs, taps, streams, public facilities, or communities where walkers can refill their bottles. The availability of this information makes it easier to estimate how much water to carry between known sources.

 

Along the Trans Canada Trail, water availability varies enormously.  On the East Coast Trail and T’Railway Trail in Newfoundland, users can regularly expect plentiful sources of water to be able to reach and purify.  In Nova Scotia, many of the streams are tidal and have saltwater, increasingly making the challenge considerable.  In PEI – much like the prairie provinces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta – there are agricultural realities to consider, including pesticides and farm runoff.  Though in PEI, communities are often much closer than in central Canada.    In Quebec, there are sections like the Petit Temis and P’Train du Nord that have regular picnic tables and water taps – because recreation in the province is well established and very well designed.  In Ontario, the situation varies from trail section to section and between communities – but here the TCT is typically moving between towns or large cities, and so water can easily be purchased when it cannot be found and filtered.   In Alberta, one must contend with the realities of locating potable water amid oil production in the north, agriculture, ranching and property ownership, and navigating roadways and cities (though the last of these helps considerably).  In BC, the availability of water once again varies based on location and trail – mountain lakes help, but can be offset by forestry and mining activities.  Finally, in the north – while water can be plentiful – remember that you are on a highway, which means that sources can be polluted or unreachable depending on the topography. 

 

All of which is a long way of saying that the situation is more complex than we often think while planning.   A walker passing through an urban area may encounter numerous places to obtain drinking water. A rural road section might offer few publicly accessible facilities, despite passing farms and private properties. In remote landscapes, lakes and streams may be present, but their existence does not automatically mean that the water is safe to drink or reliably accessible. Remember too that conditions also change throughout the year. A source available during spring runoff may be reduced or absent later in the summer. Last year’s low snowpack in turn influences this year’s water supply.  Waterways can be affected by agricultural activities, development, wildlife, or other sources of contamination. Treatment is advised and likely necessary – but even a suitable treatment system cannot compensate for a source that has dried up or cannot be reached.

 

For these reasons, water planning cannot be reduced to a single national map showing dependable refilling points at regular intervals.  Where possible, hikers should identify potential sources, determine whether those sources are accessible, assess their reliability, and carry an appropriate reserve.  We spend entire evenings on Google Maps looking for marshes and blue lines to see if we could get to them the next day – as we walked (especially in places like Newfoundland and Northern Canada) we refilled when we found a good source and hoped a great deal in between.  In populated areas, this may involve researching public facilities and available services. In more remote regions, it requires a different level of preparation and an understanding that information obtained before departure may not accurately describe conditions at the time of travel.

 

During our journey, water planning was therefore part of our daily decision-making rather than something that could be settled once and applied uniformly across the entire country.  Knowing where water might be found was important. Knowing how far we would have to travel if it was unavailable was equally important.  And as anyone who has read about our hike into Emerson, Manitoba can attest – we didn’t always get it right.  Even in big cities and heavily populated centres like Kitchener-Waterloo in Ontario, things can get tough – an extreme heat wave in this region during our second year ultimately put me in hospital with heat stroke and dehydration for a few days. 

 

Where Do You Stay at the End of Each Stage?

 

Perhaps the most misleading assumption about walking the Trans Canada Trail is that every day will end somewhere a hiker can reasonably spend the night.  On routes with established overnight infrastructure, it is often possible to identify a sequence of campgrounds, hostels, shelters, or communities with accommodations.  These facilities often may still require advance reservations, and availability can vary, but they also provide a framework for dividing a longer journey into manageable sections.  By comparison, the Trans Canada Trail does not have a similar nationwide system.  Once again, the structure of the country has evolved along paddling routes, train stations, and truck stops as well as the communities nearby – not around those intending to travel by foot.

 

Some sections pass through communities with hotels, motels, campgrounds, and other accommodation options. Others continue through areas where commercial lodging is limited or absent. Even when a town appears close to the route, reaching accommodation may require a lot of additional walking, and the location of a motel on a map does not guarantee that it will have an available room or allow you to stay.

 

Camping introduces another set of complications.  The Trans Canada Trail designation does not itself provide permission to camp along a route. Newfoundland allows wild camping beyond people’s private property, but beyond it, local bylaws, private property, protected areas, and the regulations governing individual trail sections all affect where overnight camping is allowed. Even Crown land can be hard to access while on trail.  Wild camping is not generally something a walker can assume is permitted simply because a trail passes through a forest or undeveloped landscape.  A person travelling with a tent must therefore research camping opportunities (opportunities being the operative word) just as someone staying indoors must research accommodation.  We encountered many situations where our daily walking plans were shaped by the availability of somewhere to sleep. Sometimes this meant adjusting our distance, arranging a night in a motel, or accepting that a particular section would require a different logistical approach. 

These were not unusual exceptions to an otherwise predictable itinerary. They were part of travelling across a national pathway that connects existing routes without necessarily providing continuous long-distance hiking infrastructure.  Our published provincial itineraries record generally where we reached each day during our journey, but it does not guarantee that the same possibilities would be available or appropriate for another walker.

 

Food, Resupply, and the Distance Between Communities

 

Finding food creates similar challenges, particularly as the route moves away from densely populated regions.  In some parts of Canada, shops and restaurants are encountered frequently enough that carrying several days of provisions is unnecessary (Quebec to Montreal,  Peterborough through the GTA to Barrie, and the Greater Vancouver Area). Elsewhere, communities may be separated by considerable distances, grocery stores may have limited hours or limited stock, and reaching the next reliable resupply point may require careful planning or accepting what is available – truck stops, gas stations, variety stores all become familiar places very quickly.  Eating is less about variety and choice and more about calorie intake.

 

This becomes particularly significant in the prairies and northern Canada, where the distance between services can make resupply one of the central considerations determining the pace of a journey. A walker cannot always decide to stop after 20 or 25 kilometres simply because that is their preferred daily distance. They must also consider how much food remains, how many days are required to reach the next settlement, and what options exist if weather, terrain, or other circumstances delay progress.

Carrying additional provisions provides a margin of safety, but it also increases pack weight. A heavier pack may reduce the distance someone can comfortably cover, affecting how long those provisions need to last.  The relationship between distance, supplies, and daily progress is therefore circular rather than straightforward.

 

This was one of the ways our understanding of the Trans Canada Trail changed as we moved across the country. Planning was not simply about identifying the next destination. It was about understanding the consequences of failing to reach that destination when expected or failing to find what was hoped for when you arrived.  All of which sometimes meant reconsidering the itinerary moving forward altogether.

 

A Trail That Continues to Change

 

There is another reason why planning the Trans Canada Trail is unusually complicated: the national pathway is in many ways not a permanently fixed route.  Trail sections can be affected by floods, wildfires, erosion, infrastructure damage, land-use decisions, and changes in access. Bridges may close, roads may become unsuitable, and routes may be relocated or removed from the network.  Improvements in one region may occur while difficult conditions develop elsewhere.  The result is that you have to be prepared to adapt en route – often when there are few good options.  A landowner’s dispute with the East Coast Trail led us to have to reroute around the affected section.  A bridge being replaced in New Brunswick can add 50-60 km of road walking to reroute to the other side of the span.  A landowner who plows the Trans Canada Trail to add more land to his field and sets up an electric fence to actualize that claim adds 25 km of extra hiking to a day.  And a flood the year before you arrived can remove 68 km of the Kettle Valley Rail Trail, leading you to have to walk on the side of the Crowsnest Highway for 140 km during a widespread forest fire.  Each of these exact and unexpected situations arose during our hike.

 

This does not mean that planning is impossible or that maps and guidebooks have no value. Quite the opposite. Good planning is essential.  What it does mean, however, is that information should be understood in the context of when it was collected and what it actually describes.  A route followed in 2019 or 2025 may not be identical to the route that is available today. A patch of forest that we camped in or accommodation available in 2021 may no longer operate. A section that was passable during one season may be closed or difficult to travel during another.

 

Our daily journals and itineraries document the conditions we encountered at particular times. They provide a record of where we travelled, where we stopped, and the decisions we made along the way. They are undoubtedly useful but certainly cannot serve as a permanent guarantee that the same journey can be repeated under identical circumstances.  Even our newer published provincial planning guides are intended to help prospective walkers understand the geography, route characteristics, and practical questions they should investigate before departure. They are most useful when considered alongside those firsthand accounts and current information from trail managers, communities, and service providers.   The purpose is not to eliminate uncertainty for those planning a long-distance trek or cycling journey on the Trans Canada Trail. They are meant to help people understand where uncertainty exists and how they might prepare for it.

 

Planning for the Trail That Actually Exists

Looking back at our preparations in 2018, we can see that some of our original assumptions were shaped by the long-distance trails we had already walked.  We understood that the Trans Canada Trail was much longer than the Camino Francés or the Bruce Trail. We expected that Canada's geography and climate would present significant challenges. What took longer to appreciate was that the difference was not simply one of distance. 

The Trans Canada Trail is a connected national network, but it does not divide naturally into a predictable series of walking days supported by consistent accommodation, food, water, and camping infrastructure. The very things that make it remarkable - its extraordinary geographical reach, its diversity of landscapes, its connections between communities, and its incorporation of existing recreational routes -- also make it difficult to describe through a conventional stage-by-stage hiking guide.

That does not make the questions prospective walkers ask unreasonable. How far should I walk each day? Where can I find drinking water? Can I camp along the trail? Will there be a motel at the end of each stage? How many days will it take to cross a province?  These are precisely the questions we were asking before we began.  But the answers depend on much more than finding the correct distance on a map. They require consideration of personal ability, route conditions, seasonal weather, access to services, available accommodation, resupply intervals, and the consequences of plans changing unexpectedly.

For some sections, it may be possible to prepare a relatively detailed daily itinerary. For others, planning may be better approached around the distance between communities, access points, reliable supplies, and suitable overnight options. In remote regions, the ability to manage delays and carry sufficient provisions may matter far more than maintaining a preferred daily average.

A useful plan must reflect those differences rather than conceal them.

Perhaps the greatest difficulty in planning a long-distance journey along the Trans Canada Trail is not finding individual pieces of information, but bringing them together into a reliable picture of the journey ahead. A map may identify the route, a community website may list accommodation, and a local trail organization may provide details about conditions or access. Yet none of these sources necessarily establishes whether a person can walk between two points in a reasonable number of days, obtain sufficient food and water, and find somewhere legal and practical to spend each night. These questions are interconnected, and an answer to one may change the answer to another. Across thousands of kilometres of independently managed trails, roads, and waterways, creating a complete, current, and coordinated itinerary becomes an undertaking almost as complicated as the journey itself. 

The Difference Between Having an Itinerary and Being Prepared

 

After years of walking across Canada, we have come to appreciate that a detailed itinerary and a well-prepared hiker are not necessarily the same thing. An itinerary tells someone what they hope will happen. Preparation involves considering what they will do when circumstances differ from those expectations.  We began our journey with plans, maps, research, and estimates of how long travelling across the country would take. We continued to plan throughout the undertaking, often times in considerable detail. Yet we also learned that flexibility and adaptability were not a substitute for planning; they were an essential part of it.

 

Some days went more or less as expected. Others required us to reconsider our distances, supplies, camping options, and even the route ahead. Over time, making these adjustments became part of the ordinary work of travelling on foot. 

 

It would have been convenient to follow a guide that divided the entire Trans Canada Trail into fixed daily stages, complete with dependable drinking water, resupply opportunities, and somewhere to sleep at the end of every day.  But that would have described a different kind of trail from the one we encountered and a different kind of route than the Trans Canada Trail at its core is in reality.

 

The Trans Canada Trail can be an extraordinary way to experience Canada, revealing a country far more varied, connected, and complicated than the familiar images of mountains, forests, and wilderness might suggest. Its thousands of kilometres bring walkers and cyclists into contact not only with remarkable natural landscapes but also with working communities, agricultural regions, industrial areas, highways, and the everyday geography of the country. It is without a doubt the journey of a lifetime to undertake.  But - Travelling through those places requires a willingness to adapt to the conditions and circumstances actually encountered, rather than assuming they will conform to an itinerary prepared months earlier or by someone else. Perhaps that is the most important understanding for anyone considering a long-distance walk along the national pathway.

 

The challenge is not simply determining how many kilometres you can walk in a day. It is understanding where those kilometres will take you, what you will need before reaching the next suitable stopping place, and what you will do if the journey does not go as planned. As well as understanding the ties between yesterday’s decisions, today’s possibilities, and the challenges that lie ahead tomorrow, which are influenced by both.

 

That is why planning a Trans Canada Trail hike can be so difficult – it is not a simple long-distance route like the Bruce Trail or Camino Frances.  It is also why thoughtful preparation, reliable information, and the ability to make decisions along the way matter far more than following a fixed schedule.

 

See you on the trail!