Is the TCT
Dangerous? Were you Afraid? Was it
Safe?
"Security is mostly a superstition.”
Helen Keller, Let Us Have Faith
Of all the questions we are asked about our six years
walking across Canada on the Trans Canada Trail, one of the most
difficult to answer is also among the simplest: Was it safe?
The difficulty is not that we are reluctant to discuss the
risks we encountered, or that we experienced nothing unnerving or frightening
during our journey. Rather, it is that safety is a complicated and often deeply
personal consideration. What one person regards as an acceptable risk or
terrifying may be entirely unreasonable to someone else. A situation that
leaves one walker feeling uncomfortable may scarcely register with another,
while an experienced wilderness traveller who feels perfectly at ease in bear
country may be considerably less comfortable walking along the shoulder of a
busy highway.
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There is also an important difference between feeling safe
and actually being safe. Familiarity can give us confidence in circumstances
that involve considerable risk, while unfamiliar situations can provoke anxiety
even when the likelihood of something going wrong is relatively small. Neither
confidence nor fear provides a particularly reliable measure of danger on its
own.
Perhaps more importantly, the possibility of something
unexpected happening is not confined to wilderness environments or
long-distance hiking trails. We can be injured walking down the stairs at home,
crossing a familiar street, heading to the grocery store, or working in our own
backyard. Accidents, illness, difficult encounters, and unpredictable events
are part of everyday life. Choosing to undertake an extended journey does not
suddenly introduce uncertainty into an otherwise risk-free existence. It
changes the circumstances in which we encounter those uncertainties and,
sometimes, the resources available to respond to them.
Regardless, we can appreciate why people wonder whether the
Trans Canada Trail is safe to venture down, hike on, or cycle along. It’s a reasonable question.
One of our more memorable exchanges during those
preparations was with a fellow Canadian long-distance walker also on the TCT a year ahead of us. Wondering whether carrying bear spray was advisable, we emailed
her to ask for her opinion. Her response was immediate: "Yes, of
course."
Naturally, we were curious about what difficult encounters
she might have experienced with bears during her travels, or what advice she might have for safety, so we wrote back to
ask. Her reply was rather unexpected.
"Oh, it's not for the bears; there are some crazy
people out there."
We have remembered that exchange ever since. It was amusing,
but it also illustrated how easily our assumptions about danger can differ from
someone else's experiences and concerns. We had been thinking primarily about
wildlife encounters, while her answer reflected an entirely different
consideration. In the end, we did carry bear spray, although the conversation
left us thinking more broadly about what preparation and personal safety might
actually involve.
Over the following six years, as our #Hike4Birds journey carried us almost 18,000 kilometres between the Atlantic, Pacific, and Arctic Oceans, we encountered a wide variety of circumstances that required us
to think about safety. There were remote landscapes where weather, wildlife, or
the distance from assistance demanded preparation and being careful en route.
There were roads and highways where passing traffic – sometimes less than a
foot away - required constant attention. There were also difficult trail
conditions, unexpected closures, and occasions when our plans had to change
because continuing would have introduced risks we were unwilling to accept.
We spotted bears, foxes, coyotes, wolves, moose, deer, snakes, raccoons, squirrels, and lots of birds - just to name a few - and never had a problem.
There were also a small number of uncomfortable encounters
with other people. At times, these experiences influenced how and when we shared
our location publicly, particularly when we were travelling through isolated
regions. We do not believe those incidents were representative of the
communities we visited, or of the overwhelming majority of people we met.
Indeed, some of our most memorable experiences involved extraordinary
generosity, kindness, and assistance from complete strangers. Nevertheless, the
less pleasant encounters were part of our journey too, and excluding them would
present an incomplete account of what we experienced.
Yet there were also hundreds of entirely ordinary days when
our greatest concerns involved finding drinking water, deciding where to stop
for a snack or break, watching birds, or wondering whether our feet would
tolerate another twenty kilometres before stopping. It would be misleading to
allow a handful of difficult incidents to define six years of travel, just as
it would be misleading to suggest that our journey was without risk simply
because we completed it. It would also
be remiss to say that another person’s journey would go without incident. Over the course of hiking across a city, a
region, a province and the country, a lot can and does happen.
So, was the Trans Canada Trail safe?
We cannot answer that question for everyone, nor can we
guarantee that another person following the same route will encounter the same
conditions or have the safe experiences we did. What we can do is describe the
risks we encountered, explain how we approached them, acknowledge the decisions
we might make differently, and distinguish between the situations we
anticipated and those that surprised us.
Ultimately, our experiences taught us that safety on the Trans Canada
Trail is not a simple characteristic of the national pathway. It depends upon
where you are travelling, the conditions at the time, the activities you are
undertaking, the preparations you have made, and the circumstances you
encounter along the way.
The Risks We Cannot Anticipate
As a case in point of navigating the unexpected that can
take place - Perhaps one of the more memorable lessons about safety came during
our journey through British Columbia, and it involved something we had carried
for thousands of kilometres specifically to protect ourselves.
There had been no bear encounter, no threatening animal, and
no reason for the spray to have been discharged. Nothing had apparently
triggered it. One moment we were simply continuing our journey, and the next we
were dealing with an entirely unanticipated problem involving the equipment we
had carried to make ourselves safer.
After years of considering the possibilities of wildlife
encounters, unpredictable situations, road traffic, difficult terrain, and
human behaviour, it was almost absurd that one of our more memorable safety
incidents involved our own bear spray randomly going off. We had spent
considerable time preparing for situations in which we might need to use it,
but had not imagined that the canister itself would become the problem. In retrospect, the incident seems an
appropriate illustration of one of the things we came to understand about risk
during our journey across Canada. We can research conditions, prepare
carefully, carry appropriate equipment, make sensible decisions, and avoid
circumstances that appear unnecessarily dangerous. All of these precautions
matter, and we would never suggest otherwise. Yet none of them can eliminate
the possibility of something unexpected happening.

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Nor is that uncertainty peculiar to the Trans Canada Trail. We can slip on the steps outside our own
homes, be injured crossing a familiar street, encounter an aggressive dog while
walking through our neighbourhood, or experience an entirely unexpected
mechanical failure while driving somewhere we have travelled hundreds of times
before. Familiar surroundings do not make us immune to accidents, just as
unfamiliar places are not inherently dangerous simply because we do not know
what to expect.
This does not mean that all risks are equal, or that we
should disregard legitimate concerns. Walking beside high-speed traffic
presents different hazards than following a peaceful woodland pathway.
Travelling through remote northern landscapes requires different preparations
than spending an afternoon on an urban greenway. Weather, terrain, wildlife,
personal circumstances, and access to assistance all influence the consequences
of something going wrong. Recognizing these differences is part of travelling
responsibly.
Moreover, just because there is the possibility of danger
does not serve as evidence that the entire journey is inherently unsafe. We walked into areas that the police warned
us were “funky” and told us to be careful, only to be greeted with complete kindness. So each situation requires
context.
Over six years and almost 18,000 kilometres, we experienced
occasional moments of genuine concern, made decisions to avoid situations that
seemed unnecessarily risky, and sometimes discovered that our expectations had
been mistaken. We also encountered an extraordinary number of people who
offered directions, water, meals, accommodation, encouragement, and assistance
without expecting anything in return. Most days of our 759 days on the Trans
Canada Trail were not defined by danger, but by the ordinary routines of
travelling slowly through an enormous and remarkably varied country.
If we had allowed every possible misfortune to determine
whether we should begin our journey, we would never have left Cape Spear.
Equally, had we assumed that enthusiasm, experience, or careful preparation
made us invulnerable, we might have placed ourselves in situations that could
have been avoided.
Somewhere between those extremes lies the judgment that
long-distance travel requires.
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We cannot promise another hiker or cyclist that the Trans
Canada Trail will always be safe, any more than we can guarantee that they will
encounter danger. We can share the circumstances we experienced, explain the
precautions we took, and encourage people to consider their own abilities, knowledge,
comfort, and willingness to accept uncertainty. Ultimately, everyone must
decide which risks they are prepared to manage and which they would rather
avoid.
And perhaps that is what we would most like people to
understand when they ask whether we felt safe walking across Canada.
The world has never been entirely predictable, whether we
are travelling thousands of kilometres from home or simply stepping outside our
front door. Yet unpredictability does not mean that the world is an inherently
unsafe place, nor that the possibility of something going wrong should prevent
us from experiencing it. Sometimes,
despite all our preparations, the most unexpected thing that happens is that your
can of bear spray opens up unexpectedly.
We cannot know
everything that awaits us when we step out the door. But that uncertainty, by
itself, is not a reason to remain inside.
See you on the trail!
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