Bold truth: winter travel in 19th-century New Brunswick was a grueling test of endurance, not a scenic sleigh ride. Today, we easily hop in a car with heated seats and four-wheel drive, but back then the provincial rivers and backcountry were the only routes, and they demanded grit, skill, and a touch of luck.
New Brunswick’s winter mobility relied on horse-drawn sleighs gliding over frozen rivers and long distances, long before studded tires and modern comforts existed. Historians describe the province as having river highways that served as the major conduits for movement when water froze solid enough to bear a sleigh’s weight.
As historian James Upham notes, waterways were the primary means of getting around for much of the region’s history. In summer you could paddle a canoe; in winter, when ice formed, a sleigh pulled by horses could carry you across the same routes designed for boats in warmer months.
Travel was far faster than walking, but it remained painfully slow by today’s standards because horsepower was limited and sleds carried only so much weight. There were no car heaters—comfort came from a small coal-fire underfoot, if you were lucky enough to have one burning beneath the sleigh’s passenger compartment.
Roads of ice also carried risks. In 1803, newly elected MLA Hugh McMonagle died after his sleigh broke through the Kennebecasis River ice. He was en route from Mount Whatley, near the Nova Scotia border, to Fredericton to assume his seat for Westmorland County. The tragedy occurred near Darlings Island when the ice failed, throwing McMonagle and another passenger, Benjamin Lester, into the freezing water.
Newspapers described the event with somber headlines like “Melancholy Accident,” underscoring the dangers of winter travel. The Royal Gazette documented the loss of the sleigh, horses, and baggage, while several other travelers managed to survive—a testament to resilience in a world without horse-drawn ambulances or instant communication. Upham emphasizes how survival depended on neighbors, provisions, and quick thinking rather than technology.
Although the age of river ice travel is mostly a relic, it hasn’t vanished entirely. There are still episodes where people use ice crossings or “ice roads” for practicality, even if those routes are no longer the province’s main arteries. Upham himself has driven across the Kennebecasis River in a car, witnessing that ice roads can appear as a surprising shortcut for locals who want to bypass ferries.
Today’s winter experience in New Brunswick is a far cry from those days. Modern infrastructure, road maintenance, and heated vehicles have transformed travel into a safer, more predictable routine. Yet the old stories remind us how people once navigated a landscape where rivers could be both highway and hazard, shaping a northern way of life that demanded courage, preparation, and a keen respect for the cold.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jordan Gill is a Fredericton-based reporter for CBC News, with contributions from Khalil Akhtar.
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