Six Star Magazine Six Star Magazine Fall/Winter 2019 | Page 22

MAKING
TRACKS IN
MOUNT
CARLETON
STORY AND PHOTOS BY JASON NUGENT
T
he sky is just beginning to show the glimmer of dawn,
but I’m snowshoeing through dense forest, so it’s of
little help. A bright patch of light from my headlamp shows
the way, helping me navigate around trees and follow a path
that, to be honest, I already know well.
There’s a massive amount of snow on the ground and
the tree branches I’m forced to duck under are at a much
higher elevation in the summer. The rhythmic sound of
my snowshoes sinking into the snow is hypnotic. The
temperature, which dropped overnight, is persistent: Even
though I’m working hard to make progess, I feel the need to
cinch my coat around my neck.
I have a big day ahead of me: It’s the middle of February,
I’m in Mount Carleton Provincial Park and I need to
make tracks towards the summit of Mount Sagamook
before sunrise. Located in the central northwest part of
New Brunswick, Mount Carleton Provincial Park contains
a section of the International Appalachian Trail and its
namesake is the highest peak in the Maritimes. In all, there
are more than 42,000 acres of pristine wilderness to explore.
This part of the province is a winter wonderland for a large
part of the year.
The park is also remote and Mount Carleton is ranked
45th on the list of Canada’s most isolated peaks. But what
this remoteness also signifies is that the night skies are
exceptionally dark. So dark, in fact, that the park was
designated a Dark-Sky Preserve by the Royal Astronomical
Society of Canada in 2009.
I’ve lived in New Brunswick nearly my entire life and
some of my best memories were made here during the
winter. Long after the snow has retreated in other parts of
the province, it was safe to assume that a blanket of white
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would still cover most of the park. As a child, I remember my
Dad loading up the car in early spring and driving across the
province from Bathurst to the north entrance to the park.
We would have to snowshoe in because the park was closed
in the winter in those days, but with some effort we’d find
ourselves with a winter wonderland all to ourselves. He’d
bundle me up in warm blankets and we’d sit and watch the
Northern Lights streak across the sky, mugs of hot chocolate
in our hands. If the weather turned cloudy or it started to
snow… well, that was just fine, too.
Now that I’m older, I’ve continued the tradition. There’s
a truth in outdoor exploration: If you want to be in a remote
part of the world early in the morning, you probably need
to be there the night before. Some of the best nights I’ve had
outdoors have been here. As a photographer, I’ve always been
fond of Armstrong Campground, sitting where it does along
the north shore of Lake Nictau. This spot provides a beautiful
vantage point of the big peaks on the other side. For me, not
much beats getting back to the tent after a day on the trails,
fixing dinner on the stove, and then taking some time-lapse
photos of the moon rising over the park massif.
On this particular visit, nature gets the better of me.
The skies close in and the snow begins to fly as I approach
the summit of Sagamook. Instead of seeing the famous “10
million tree” view, I have to retreat behind a wall of white.
It’s a blustery snowshoe back across Lake Nictau to my tent,
but as I zip myself into my sleeping bag, smiling all the while,
I know that I’ll return. I always do.