Signal Hill and Hiking the North Head Trail

St John's, Newfoundland

After spending much of yesterday cleaning, drying, and repacking our equipment, this morning we awoke in St. John’s still somewhat uncertain about the days ahead.

 
Our first attempt at hiking the East Coast Trail had not gone quite as planned. Piccos Ridge Path had proven far more difficult than anything we had previously encountered, and the combination of steep terrain, heavy backpacks, cold rain, fog, powerful winds, and an overnight snowstorm had left us wondering whether we were properly prepared to continue.

 
By last night, we had decided not to return north back to Bauline. Instead, we would remain in St. John’s for another day before returning to the East Coast Trail. Although the decision had been made, we were perhaps not yet entirely confident in it.
 
Rather than spend the day indoors worrying about what might come next, we instead decided to return to Signal Hill and explore the North Head Trail. This short coastal footpath seemed to fill an unusual gap between the East Coast Trail pathways between Quidi Vidi, Signal Hill and Fort Amherst on the edge of St. John’s. It would also allow us to spend another day walking beside the Atlantic without carrying our full backpacks or committing ourselves to another long stage.
 
More simply put it was time to regain a sense that we could successfully trek a section of Newfoundland’s coastline.
 

Breakfast at the Battery Café

 
Awake, having enjoyed warm showers and prepared, we left Memorial University and walked back toward the city, making our way to the Battery Café for breakfast and coffee.

We had passed the café during our first afternoon in St. John’s and had stopped there for homemade rhubarb lemonade after climbing Signal Hill. This morning, the small café provided a warm and comfortable place to begin our day. We ordered coffee and a bagel with jam for me, and a cheese croissant for Sean.  We sat for a while enjoying the relaxed atmosphere before heading back outside.

 
One of the things we have enjoyed most during our previous walks in town has been discovering such small cafés, bakeries, and restaurants found along the way. Whether on the Camino Francés or the Via Podiensis, these stops have often provided more than food. They have given us a chance to rest, speak with local residents, and experience something of the communities through which we were passing.
 
Feeling much improved after our delicious breakfast, we began climbing Signal Hill Road.
 

Returning to Signal Hill

 
The road rose steadily above the Battery, providing increasingly expansive views over St. John’s Harbour. We passed the Johnson Geo Centre, George’s Pond and the grounds where the Signal Hill Tattoo is performed during the summer.

 
The Tattoo is a military performance that recreates aspects of the ceremonies, drills, and music associated with soldiers stationed in Newfoundland during the late 18^th, early 19^th centuries as well as World War units. Unfortunately, there was no performance taking place while we were here today, but we hoped we might have an opportunity to return and see it before leaving the province.

 
Continuing upward, we eventually reached the parking area near Cabot Tower at the top of Signal Hill. The weather was almost completely different from what we had experienced during the previous two days. The sky was bright, the sun was warm, and the Atlantic stretched blue and seemingly endless beyond the rocky headland.

The wind, however, remained unmistakably Newfoundland.
 
We spent some time near Cabot Tower looking out across the ocean and scanning the coastline with our binoculars. Signal Hill seemed to be an excellent place to look for seabirds and whales without leaving the city. Gulls and other seabirds moved through the air above the cliffs, and far offshore, we occasionally saw the misty spouts of whales breaking the surface.
 
They were much too distant for us to identify, but seeing them was exciting nonetheless.

Cabot Tower itself is an impressive stone building standing at the summit of Signal Hill. It was constructed to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee and the 400th anniversary of John Cabot’s voyage to Newfoundland in 1497. The hill has also played an important role in the military and communications history of St. John’s. In 1901, Guglielmo Marconi received the first transatlantic wireless signal in this area, connecting Newfoundland with Cornwall, England.

Standing beside the tower and looking east, it was easy to appreciate why Signal Hill had been such an important place for watching both the harbour and the ocean beyond it.
 

Setting Out on the North Head Trail

 
After exploring the summit, we found signs pointing toward Ladies Lookout and the North Head Trail.

 
Following the evident route, we began our hike by descending a long staircase with wooden railings. The path was well travelled and easy to follow, and after the small moments of navigational uncertainty we had encountered on Piccos Ridge, this was something of a relief.

 

At the bottom of the first series of steps, we stopped to apply sunscreen. It felt strange to be protecting ourselves from bright sunshine only a day after drying snow- and rain-soaked camping equipment in our residence room.
 
From there, we continued into the full force of the Atlantic wind.
 
The trail descended into an area known as Ross’s Valley, which an information sign described as a hanging valley formed by a glacier during the last Ice Age. The valley had apparently been used for gardening in the past and had once been the location of a small quarantine hospital known as Prowse’s Folly.

 
Although we could still see the tower and roads above us, the rocky valley felt surprisingly removed from the city. Bright green mosses and lichens covered the exposed stone, while buttercups and other wildflowers grew in the protected areas between the rocks. We also spotted low plants that appeared to be bakeapples, although they were not yet producing the orange berries for which they are known.
 
As the trail approached the edge of the headland, the view opened in both directions along the Avalon Peninsula. The coastline stretched north and south, its steep cliffs disappearing gradually into the haze.
 
Looking east, the Atlantic seemed so vast that it felt as though we should be able to see Greenland or perhaps even the United Kingdom if only the mist would clear. We knew this was ridiculous, but we both seemed to require some visible reassurance that the ocean eventually ended somewhere.

 
Near one of the Parks Canada lookout points, we stopped beside the familiar red chairs and again scanned the water. Several whales were spouting far offshore, although they remained too distant for us to identify. Seabirds circled below us and disappeared against the dark cliffs before reappearing over the water.

For a trail situated within the boundaries of a provincial capital, the North Head Trail felt remarkably wild.
 

Around the Headland

 
Beyond the lookout, the route began curving around the North Head toward the entrance of St. John’s Harbour.

The path descended beneath the steep cliffs of Signal Hill while remaining high above the Atlantic. In several places, wooden boardwalks and staircases helped hikers across the uneven slopes. Elsewhere, the trail became narrower as the ground fell sharply away below us and the rock rose almost vertically overhead. 

 

At one particularly exposed section, a line of chains had been secured to the cliff to provide assistance.
 
Sean, who has never been fond of heights, went almost completely white.
 
As the trail continued around the headland, I could see him becoming increasingly uncomfortable. When I called ahead to ask whether he was all right, he responded:
 
“I don’t like being this tall, so how do you think I feel about being this high up?”
 
I admittedly had no particularly useful answer.

 
Despite his discomfort, we continued carefully along the trail. The path was certainly exposed in places, but it was also well maintained and far easier to navigate than sections of the East Coast Trail had been a day ago. Without our large backpacks and with dry rock beneath our feet, the steep sections felt manageable.
 
Below us, waves moved against the base of the cliffs and a bank of dense fog rolled in, covering the coastline. Ahead, Fort Amherst and its lighthouse appeared across the Narrows, while behind us, Cabot Tower remained visible on the summit. We also passed the remains of military fortifications and gun batteries, reminders that this headland had long been used to defend the entrance to St. John’s Harbour.

 
The route continued descending and turning inland until the trail suddenly emerged into a narrow and somewhat unexpected lane between houses.
 
After walking along open cliffs above the Atlantic, stepping directly into the Battery neighbourhood felt rather abrupt.
 

Through the Battery

 
The Battery is one of the oldest residential areas of St. John’s. Its brightly coloured houses are crowded beneath the cliffs of Signal Hill along narrow roads overlooking the harbour.

We followed the lane between the houses and joined part of the Grand Concourse, the network of urban walking trails extending throughout St. John’s. From here, we had wonderful views across the harbour toward the city and the working waterfront.
 
Fishing boats and larger vessels moved through the water below, while houses seemed to cling to the rocky slopes around us. The enclosed harbour was in sharp contrast to the vast expanse of open Atlantic we had been looking over only a short time earlier.  Above us skies had darkened and the world was increasingly encased in fog.

 
The route eventually descended close to the water before climbing back toward the Battery Café, where we had begun our morning. We stopped again, this time enjoying a cold drink and another pastry while resting our legs.

 
The North Head Trail had not been particularly long, but the stairs, steep slopes, exposed cliffs, and persistent wind had made it feel more substantial than its distance suggested.  It had also given us a very different way to experience Signal Hill. Rather than simply driving or walking to the summit, we had followed the contours of the headland, moving from the open Atlantic around the cliffs and into the shelter of St. John’s Harbour.
 

An Afternoon in Quidi Vidi

 
With our short hike complete, we decided to spend the afternoon in Quidi Vidi.  As such, we followed the roads around Signal Hill toward the small fishing village, which sits around a narrow and sheltered harbour. Although Quidi Vidi is now part of St. John’s, its clustered houses, fishing stages, and enclosed waterway gave it the feeling of a separate community.

After exploring for a while, we stopped at the Quidi Vidi Brewery and Pub and found seats by a window overlooking the water.
 
We ordered local beer and settled in to enjoy the view.

Fishing boats rested in the harbour below us, and people came and went along the narrow road. It was a peaceful place to spend the afternoon after the exposed wind and cliffs of the North Head Trail.
 
Here, there was no rush to get anywhere, nor a need to complete a stage of the trail.  Instead, we simply sat, watched the harbour, and enjoyed being in Newfoundland.
 

An Evening of Reflection

 
When we returned to Memorial University that evening, our equipment was dry, our bags were packed, and our plans for tomorrow remained unchanged. We would make our second attempt to begin hiking the East Coast Trail.

 
Looking back on the day, we realized that walking the North Head Trail had perhaps served a purpose beyond sightseeing.  While part of the day had simply been about taking a break and enjoying some recovery time. We had eaten well, walked without our heavy packs, enjoyed the sunshine, and allowed ourselves time to settle after the difficulties on the ECT. There was nothing particularly heroic about this, but after the previous couple of days of disappointment (in the weather and ourselves) it had been necessary.
 
The North Head Trail had also given us an opportunity to test ourselves again. Its exposed cliffs, steep stairs, chains, and strong winds reminded us of some of the challenges we would likely continue to face farther along the trail. Yet today we had moved through them calmly, taken our time, and enjoyed the landscape rather than feeling overwhelmed by it.

 
Perhaps most importantly, the day had helped us decide that one difficult beginning did not necessarily mean we should stop.

 
Our previous hiking experiences had taught us that long-distance trails often require plans to change. The Bruce Trail, Camino Francés, and Via Podiensis had all presented difficult days, unexpected problems, and moments of uncertainty. The East Coast Trail was already proving to be very different from those routes, but perhaps the answer was not to abandon it. Perhaps we simply needed to approach it more carefully and with more patience.
 
We remain somewhat nervous, but tonight we are also excited to return to the trail.
 
See you on the Trail!