TROUT POINT LODGE IS WILDLY PEACEFUL
Stargazers' paradise is refreshing and restorative
“If you can't find the blister with your eyes, just run your hand along the bark,” recommends my forest guide, Naomi Nixon, as I step up to a towering balsam fir. Sure enough, within seconds my sense of touch detects what my eyes can't.
Under my index finger, I discover a sap blister, a tiny bulge camouflaged amid the giant's pearly grey trunk. Popping the blister feels satisfying, exciting even. For centuries, this sap has been used by Indigenous peoples to heal wounds, and I'm thrilled at the prospect of a few scratch-free hours as I apply the sap to the red welt left by an inconsiderate mosquito.
I'm on the grounds of Trout Point Lodge, a remote wilderness resort set in the midst of 40 hectares of Nova Scotia woodland. Bordering the Tobeatic Wilderness Area, the largest protected expanse in the Maritimes, the resort itself is a massive three-storey spruce log cabin-cum-mansion.
Reminiscent of the great summer camps erected in the early 20th century along the Eastern Seaboard for the uber wealthy, Trout Point initially gained cred as the world's first starlight hotel. Accredited by the UNESCO linked Starlight Foundation, astronomers guide guests through nightly stargazing experiences into some of North America's darkest skies.
But I'm not here to stargaze (which is lucky, because cloudy skies one night and rain the next prevent prime viewing). No, I'm here to recover. I've just attended my first POST-COVID conference, which involved more than the usual amount of late night karaoke. That, coupled with the unfortunate decision of scarfing back Moon Mist flavoured cheesecake in the wee hours before my arrival, it's fair to say I turned up at Trout Point Lodge a tad worse for wear.
Luckily, the Yarmouth Acadian Shores region set along the southern tip of the peninsula is a pretty placid place for a summer vacay. Away from the hustle of Halifax, the gentrification of Dartmouth and the bustling seaside resorts on the Southern Shore, this area is decidedly less trafficked and is just the spot to recuperate in the wilderness.
But with soaring beam ceilings, locally quarried granite fireplaces and Tiffany lamps punctuating the property, guests aren't exactly roughing it. Until recently, the lodge was a member of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World boutique collection.
None of the Lodge's 13 guest rooms sport a TV or a phone. Wifi is available, but it's rare to see other guests doom-scrolling. Instead, they take advantage of a robust activity schedule comprised of nature walks, forest bathing, kayaking and meditation.
It feels a bit like summer camp for adults, though thankfully, the activities on offer aren't mandatory. Still, within minutes of arriving, I find myself in the forest, eschewing a nap in favour of a guided wild tea foraging excursion in the hopes the bounty I discover could cure my fatigue.
Perking up at the smell of Christmas permeating the air, we weave our way through thickets of red spruce, fir and pine. After gleefully popping sap blisters, we begin foraging for white pine, whose needles erupt in bundles of five.
“If you remember white is a five letter word, you'll always know you've found white pine,” shares Nixon.
Next, we're down on all fours crawling around the forest floor in search of winter green, a hardy creeper that smells as minty as Life Savers, but with the added benefit of relieving head and body aches.
With a branch of white spruce for its vitamin C properties and a small leaf of immune-boosting balsam fir, we have enough clippings to bundle into tea bags to be enjoyed during the daily tea service provided in the Great Room each afternoon.
With a reviving cuppa and a few decadent pastries under my belt, I'm feeling better already. While it's hard to beat the soothing benefits the rituals of tea time provide, a spot of paddle boarding along the Tusket River might come close.
But you have to pay attention along this natural obstacle course. Glaciers scrubbed the land to bedrock during their withdrawal from Nova Scotia 18,000 years ago; leaving in their place myriad creeks and lakes studded with massive granite boulders.
Winsome maples anchoring the river wave as if saying hello, while I dip my paddle in and out of the water. Navigating between the glacial erratics left behind during the last Ice Age, I envision I'm part of a Group of Seven landscape. I haven't felt this refreshed mid-afternoon in I don't know how long.
Though Trout Point Lodge has all manner of outdoor activity, wood-burning fireplaces and an abundance of board games keep guests cosy during rainy afternoons. A large, wraparound patio is an ideal spot to settle in with a book borrowed from the lodge library, while taking advantage of campfire cocktail service. Better yet, sink yourself into the woodfired cedar hot tub and sauna situated steps away from the lodge, before plunging into the river to cool off Wim Hof style.
By the time I finish paddle boarding, I'm almost fully recovered. Taking a gin and pine water infused cocktail up to my second-floor room, I'm greeted by a wall of windows revealing a sea of textured green from the forest outside.
A steady gust flows through the window screens. Dancing through the leaves, the wind rises to a crescendo before fading off, conceding its power to the gentle hum of the ceiling fan. With the breeze and faint residue of bug spray lingering on my clothes it couldn't feel more like summer. Swiftly, I drift off, scoring that peaceful rest I'd finally earned.