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The River of Profit
Enbridge and the Trail of Tar
The woods began to darken as I run down the dirt path. I’m wearing prescription sunglasses and don’t have my regular glasses with me. Trees are becoming amorphous blobs. I hear no birdsong. The trail has many tree roots in it and I stumble.
It is just past early spring. I spent several hours hiking a loop hike around Copper Falls, first above it on gorge edges thick with red pine, then down near it, peering into pools for trout. The lively river riffles over boulders before plunging down through softer stone. That hike warmed me up for a quick hour of trail-running. I notice the ridged bark of maples as I appreciate the grip of my shoes on the gravel. Sweat cools on the back of my wicking t-shirt as I pause to drink from my steel water bottle. Maybe I should buy something lighter, I think as I push it back into the bowels of a new day pack.
The trail has more ups and downs than I thought it would. The forest is thick, and glacial activity has pushed the landscape into swirls and peaks that resemble foam on the beach. Before I can’t see at all, I return to the camping area and open up the back of my car, removing my stove so that I can heat up water for some mac and cheese. Twisting the stove onto the red fuel canister, I light it with a quiet roar and anticipate the hot food as the temperatures drop. I’m in a…
