The simulation is very fast and intuitive and can be baked once satisfied with the result in an instant. Trails are calculated in realtime, meaning all you need to do is create the motion for the trail controller or parent it to an already animated prop. Different builtin methods are either not very flexible or require cloth simulation, animation baking or other hacks to work. Sometimes the trail angels are unseen, but no less appreciated, like the hundreds of people who volunteer their time to maintain the trails, or the sweet souls who make handmade signs to point out an eagle’s nest.Trail effects usually take a lot of time to setup and require a lot of maintenance. “Trail angels” is the apt and affectionate name given to human purveyors of trail magic. Sometimes trail magic is being in the right place at the right time to meet just the right person – receiving a juicy orange when you haven’t seen a grocery store for over a week, meeting someone who makes and repairs their own outdoor gear just as your backpack tears at the buckle seam, or passing by someone who simply offers a smile or stops for a chat when you’re in need of connection. Sometimes it’s being in the right place at the right time to catch the sunset illuminating the trail or the sunrise lighting up a mountain pass. So often while I’m in the trail flow-state, I’ll notice I’ve changed my gait and look down just in time to realize that, instinctually, I’ve spared the life of an insect or small reptile. Or catching a walrus sunning ashore – a thousand miles south of its natural habitat – the day you set out to walk eastern Canada. Sometimes it’s being present for tiny moments of connection, like catching two insects, less than a half centimetre in length, touching antennae while riding the winds on a Prairie wheat head. To learn so many important lessons so early on… trail magic is like that!īut trail magic isn’t just the grand moments. I learned so much from that encounter – that “the trail provides,” especially as you grow more open to it that the trajectory of a day can turn on a dime and to follow insistent whims. In the coming days and months I often thought back to that encounter with Stan and Grace, and the insistent voice that kept me moving past exhaustion. That evening, after rinsing the day’s sweat and dust off in their shower, I joined them for dinner, complete with soul-filling conversation and topped off with – get this – treats from the Blacksmith Bakery! Trail magic! Trail magic!Īppreciating the awe-inspiring beauty of the Trans Canada Trail Grace and Stan, who had passed me in the red convertible, had a feeling I might be headed their way. Grace and Stan had been sitting around the fire with their sons and a gaggle of grandchildren, hoping I would show up. “We’ve been waiting for you,” Grace said as she got nearer, offering a wide smile. For a good ten minutes I made slow progress, spinning around every few steps, weighing the sanity of pushing forward in my tired state.Īs I walked on the trail alongside a fencerow bordering a freshly mowed property, I saw someone beelining towards me. I looked back, in conflict with myself, wondering why this spot wasn’t good enough. I turned my head, surveying the clearing again. I walked a few steps past the perfect spot, incredulous. I motioned towards the clearing but stopped in my tracks. By late afternoon I finally made it to the trail, thoroughly exhausted, slightly limping, and beyond grateful to find a perfect spot to set up camp only a couple hundred metres from the trailhead. I half hoped someone, anyone, driving by would save me from my self-imposed pain. A red convertible, top down, caught my eye as I sat steaming along a fence catching a bit of shade. In the morning, trucks and tractors plied the roads, traffic-flow slowing with the midday heat, giving way to the odd retiree out for a drive. I looked at my map again and again, inching closer to the spot that the road met the trail, willing myself on. I continued onward, stopping with increasing frequency as the heat and hard pavement wore at my resolve. My budget wouldn’t stretch six months if I stopped for every treat the Trail had to offer! I thought about picking up a pastry but quickly chastised myself for considering indulging so soon after I had set out. I stopped often, first in Fort Langley to ogle treats in the Blacksmith Bakery window.
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