60 by 60: Let’s go!
Welcome to 60 by 60—a series of 60 adventures leading up to my 60th birthday in September. Rather than simply chronicle the places I visit or the things I do, I want this to be an open invitation for you to take a leap with me—to try something new, revisit something once loved, or say yes to something you’ve been really wanting to do.
Not every 60 by 60 adventure will live as a full blog post. Some will be shared on social—as a single photo, a short reflection or a photo essay.
For Adventure #1, I didn’t board a plane or check into a hotel.
I headed home.
Return to Cape Breton
It’s a five-hour drive from my longtime home of Moncton, N.B., to my hometown of Sydney, N.S.—a route I’ve travelled countless times over the years. And yet, this time felt different.
Perhaps it was the intention behind the trip. Or knowing I was beginning something new. Maybe it was simply the realization that before you move forward, it sometimes helps to look back.
Whatever the case, I wore an ear-to-ear grin when we left the Nova Scotia mainland, crossed the Canso Causeway and passed under the ‘Welcome to Cape Breton’ sign marking our arrival on the island.
With hubby at the wheel, we took our usual path from that point to reach Sydney, through Port Hawkesbury and later St. Peter’s on Route 4. The two-lane highway traces the edge of the Bras d’Or Lake, past small lakeside communities.
We meandered along the twisty route on a bright winter afternoon, stopping once to turn down a dirt road opposite what many might remember as Rita’s Tea Room in Middle Cape. I wanted to snap a photo of the setting sun over the frigid lake waters.
It was worth the numb fingers.
Arriving in the Steel City
Before long, we were taking the exit to Sydney, once called the Steel City because of the steel plant that operated there until 2000.
Sydney has never had an easy story. The city weathered decades of economic uncertainty, tied closely to the rise and fall of industry. Despite those challenges, it was a pretty awesome place to be raised. There was a strong sense of community, an unspoken understanding that people looked out for each other. Childhood here was rich in ways that had little to do with money.
Growing up in a home at the bottom of Hardwood Hill, next to the ballpark, brought long, unstructured days, close neighbourhood friendships and lots of time spent outside, often until the streetlights came on.
There were no schedules. No social media. Just bikes, scraped knees, imagination and freedom.
When the slides came out
While home, I pulled out trays of old slides, the now-vintage projector and screen. As images flickered to life, memories rushed in.
There we were—neighbour Kim and me playing Barbies on her front lawn. The gaggle of kids hanging out on our dead-end street. Swimming on the Mira River on hot summer days. Ice fishing in winter.
Looking at the shots, I was struck not just by what we were doing, but by the roots that were instilled and the sense of adventure they defined
I also realized how much my folks nurtured that instinct for adventure at a young age. I felt a surge of gratitude.
Where my love of exploring began
Road trips—especially around Cape Breton Island—were a regular part of my childhood. We packed up the car and went, sometimes with a clear destination, sometimes just to see what we’d find.
Those trips eventually stretched beyond the island to different parts of Nova Scotia and Atlantic Canada. With each journey came a smidge more curiosity about people and places.
Early on, a camera entered the picture. Photography became my way of capturing interesting moments. Beach fun. Family camping laughs. Silly times with friends.
I now see how photography became a key companion on my journey.
Old haunts revisited
On my return home, I spent time revisiting some special places I frequented in my youth: Wentworth Park, where my family took me to feed the ducks or attend art classes in the bandshell; the local library, where I devoured books; and the main ‘drag,’ which I circled repeatedly in my folks’ and friends’ cars in my late teens. I remembered downtown bus rides with my mom before she got her licence—small adventures that felt very grown-up at the time.
There was a stop in front of my high school. Memories flooded back of friends and classes, playing badminton, my role as yearbook photographer, trying to get shots of sports teams and more candid fare. Little did I know then I’d spend a lifetime building a career as a writer and photographer.
Reconnecting with the coastline, the clan
From downtown, I headed toward the Louisbourg coast—one of my favourite places in the world, a destination that has always grounded me.
It was freezing but sunny, the kind of winter day that clears your head and makes you glad you wore thick mittens. Standing there, I thought about childhood trips to Lighthouse Point with my parents, running along the hills, waves crashing nearby. In later years, I would return to this same stretch of coast with my own family, creating new memories layered over the old ones. I felt even more gratitude.
That evening and the previous one, I reconnected with family—aunts, uncles, cousins and, of course, my amazing parents, who still live in my childhood home.
There was yummy food. So much food. And lots of chatter to bring everyone up to speed on each other’s lives.
I couldn’t help but think of a quote shared by a friend earlier in the week. To paraphrase: “When you realize one day is not one more, it’s one less, you will start giving more value to the things that truly matter.”
My visit home mattered.
Returning with a full heart
During our drive back to Moncton, my heart felt full, my spirit energized.
This first 60 by 60 adventure wasn’t about distance travelled or boxes checked. It was about reconnection—with place, with people and with the parts of myself that have guided my path all along.
As I look ahead to the next chapters in this series, I do so with a deeper sense of purpose and appreciation.
This feels like exactly the right place to begin.
60 by 60 is a series chronicling 60 adventures—big and small—in the lead-up to my 60th birthday in September. I’m doing this to nudge myself (and maybe you!) to try new things and stay curious in midlife.
Have an idea for a 60 by 60 adventure I should consider, in Canada or beyond? I’d love to hear it! Email me at cathykdonaldson@outlook.com.