The woman who thought her husband was a bear

This was a famous case in which an American woman on a hunting trip in Newfoundand shot and killed her husband claiming she mistook him for a bear.  The message of this story is that the short two-three day moose hunting season was due to start in the latter part of September, and I had received several warnings to wear 'hunters orange' when riding through the woods at this time. I had hoped to be over the hills to Woodstock by the time it commenced, but it looked increasingly likely that I might not entirely make it, as it was apparently scheduled to start on September 25th. But I made sure we were all kitted out with orange jackets.
At any rate it was a huge relief to be back enjoying the peace and beauty of the Trans Canada Trail the following morning Tuesday September23rd.   Along the St John river....

and up the Keswick river valley....

Lunch stop at Burtts Corner - this old building was once Cardigan Station ..

..and apparently there were quite a few people of Welsh descent living in the area, presumably originating from the Cardigan area of Wales.
From here the country began to become wilder, though we did not see any moose. The trail followed the rushing Keswick river for much of the way....

But though beautiful, the woods meant not much in the way of grazing, so after a long trudge I was happy to come across a large grassy clearing deep in the woods as the dusk fell.  No cell reception but a rather spooky gravestone overlooking the site...

We were untroubled by ghosts overnight, though in the morning I heard a distant shot - someone 'jumping the gun' perhaps?  Still no cell reception when we reached Milville at midday, but a helpful couple lent me their phone to warn my next hosts Barb and Neil Brown of my imminent arrival.  A friendly woman pressed two packets of seaweed on me (!) and happened to drop into the conversation that the moose hunting season had in fact started two days earlier as it had been extended to five days!   Ah well, we had managed to survive unscathed so far.
Further down the trail a lone figure clad in orange appeared - it was Barb come to meet me with dog Rosie.  Obligatory photo taken by Barb at a New Brunswick covered bridge - Lady fidgeting as usual.

The horses stayed in a paddock near the trail with friend Eileen, a school teacher with Barb's husband Neil, while I went on to Nortondale with Barb to see the cobs, have supper, and spend the night in a little outside cabin they have.

Neil with one of their home bred Welsh cob mares.