June, 2018

If we haven’t mentioned it, the ferry trip from North Sydney to Port au Basques on the southwest tip of The Rock takes 6 hours; the return ferry trip from Agentia to North Sydney takes 17 hours give or take.  We were scheduled to leave at 5pm with disembarkation around 10am.  The ocean-going vessel is really a mini-cruise ship with parking for up to 200 vehicles, 150 “staterooms” and seating for an additional 400 passengers; a full restaurant, snack bar and bar, a lounge with live entertainment, a game room, movie theater and souvenir shop.

As with our trip over to The Rock, we queued up, drove onto the ferry and parked our car in the belly of the beast; dropped our bags in our stateroom, and found a place in the lounge to sit down and eat the picnic dinner we had brought on board.  After eating we had about and hour or so to use the game room and play Scrabble before it was movie time (cheesy remake of Footloose).  We sat next to a couple playing gin rummy and struck up a conversation with 2 delightful artists from…wait for it….the Scranton area.

Peter and Barbara had been to Newfoundland in search of icebergs.  Incredibly, when they arrived at the house they had rented, there in the bay in front of their rental was an enormous iceberg.  Peter took lots of pictures and will transform them onto canvas.  Barbara works in clay, and she hand builds terrific re-imaginations of characters from children’s fairy tales. We loved looking at pictures of her whimsical recreations of The Three Little Pigs and Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  We really do forget how small the world really is and how ironic that we traveled so many 1000s of miles to bump into folks from just about our old back yard.

As we were chatting, Brian spotted a couple of whales. We loved watching them frolic in the big waters of the Atlantic.  Life just doesn’t get any better than that…or so we thought.

Coming back to the main passenger deck after the movie we happened to see many of our fellow passengers on the promenade.  Looking out we could see the beginnings of a magnificent sunset and, after running back to our stateroom for the camera, joined the crowd in the worship of one of nature’s most spectacular colorful displays.  Let us know which picture is your favorite…please.

One more story from our ferry ride back to North Sydney.  After the sunset we decided to have a nightcap in the lounge, listening to Elvis and Johnny Cash music played by two old guys who had probably played better venues in their heyday.  Wouldn’t you know that a happy drunk Newfoundlander and founder of the Sea Dawgs Motor Cycle Club (8 members) told a joke, and seeing that Brian laughed, he became Brian’s new bff!  He spoke so quickly it was nearly impossible to understand half of what he was saying, but for some reason he kept apologizing to Barbara.  He told us all about his father who had died recently, his business, his opinion of our present government and leader, and his planned ride across about half of Canada.  Excusing ourselves we headed back to our stateroom, but decided to stop on the promenade to look for stars.  Guess who we bumped into smoking a cigarette?  After dropping his drawers to show Brian the tattoo on his right thigh that he had done in honor of his father it was most certainly time to call it a night.

The next morning we were awake in plenty of time to pack-up, have a nice breakfast on board and watch the ferry come into port.

Barbara and Brian

 

 

June, 2018

Saying goodbye to the tickle, Captain Dave and Christine we headed off to St. John’s, the Capitol of Newfoundland and home to over 500,000 people.  We couldn’t help but notice that the terrain was so much different on this side of The Rock.  The west coast was rocky with sheer cliffs overlooking the Labrador Bay and occasional rock strewn beaches but forest prevailed.  It was lush, thick and green (except The Tablelands!).  This side of the island features rolling hills and rocky cliffs down to the ocean, but it is more brown than green and not lush.

The drive went quickly, and it soon became apparent that we were approaching a large metropolitan area.  Three-lane, divided highways at rush hour looks the same world-wide!  We dropped our bags and headed to downtown Saint John’s and the famous George Street.  We had a pint and dinner at the Duke of Duckworth’s (on Duckworth Street – what’d ya expect?).  The pub looks so much older; low ceilings, lots of dark wood and exposed stone, tables almost on top of one another and a unique bar with a wide variety of ales and beers on tap.  The place was boisterous and filled with people of all ages: working stiffs, locals and tourists like us.  No fancy-dressed staff; just delightfully attentive young people who made our experience very enjoyable. Even the washroom didn’t disappoint.  On the wall were these words: “There are 2 things I like Graffiti and Irony.”

After dinner, we wandered the streets, looking for Christian’s Bar where we were headed the next evening to be “Screetched In” (patience, patience my dear reader – more about this later).  We booked out time for the next day, and with a full belly, excited thinking about becoming honorary Newfoundlanders and just a bit road weary we called it a night.

After breakfast, we headed out to O’Brien’s Whale and Bird Tour for a two-hour cruise (there’s that damn 2 hour-tour again – might not be a 3-hour tour, but you’re humming that tune.  Admit it!) to the Witless Bay Ecological Reserve, home to Puffins and “millions of other seabirds,” according to their website.  And there, by the side of the road, we spotted a young moose enjoying his breakfast. Finally another moose to add to the count!

The O’Brien’s tour lived up to all of its hype, and the Witless Islands Ecological Reserve is incredible!  But first and along the way out to the Reserve we were able to see yet another Bald Eagle standing guard over its nest.

 

For anyone who was terrorized by the Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds”, this may not be the tour for you.  We were astounded and amazed by all the thousands of birds we saw.  Thick-billed Murre, Yellow-legged Gulls, and a half-million Puffins delighted all of us.  The birds were fascinating and mesmerizing to watch, and the tour ended much too quickly.  We could have stayed all day.

AND, on the way back to the harbor, we sighted the back and fluke of two Humpback whales as they rose to the surface of the ocean to spout and take a quick breath before diving back down to continue their meal.

After lunch we decided to finish our outdoor activities with a trip to Cape Spear Lighthouse – the eastern most point North America.  It was a cold blustery, bone-chilling day but we ventured out to the point, and then hiked to the old lighthouse only to be disappointed to learn that it was not open to the public.  Quickly we hurried back to the car to warm ourselves before we headed to downtown St John’s for our Screetch In.

Christian’s Bar is the place to be Screetched In.  But it is a cozy bar first – a great place to hang out, have a pint and, today, to watch the world cup.  The place filled quickly with lots of tourists waiting for the ceremony, which by the way couldn’t begin until the match was over.  The Portugal vs. Spain match ended in a tie, a great kick off for the events to come that evening.

Chef Loopie prepared his famous moose bologna for us by sauteing it in a large skillet with screetch rum (screetched in-get it?), some Cajun seasoning, and then he burned off all the alcohol, used a little port and finished it off with some saffron.  Seriously – it is moose bologna afterall!  He bragged that he had prepared this bologna for a Food Network chef, and once she had tasted his meat…aw yes, bawdy indeed…she declared Loopie to be a chef.  Once cut up into bite-sized pieces we all had the glory of a bite.

Chef Loopie then shared his (unsubstantiated?) version of the history of Newfoundland, beginning with John Cabot who sailed from Bristol, England to Bonavista Bay on the NE coast of the island.  One day Cabpt observed some activity in the water, lowered his bucket into the sea, and when he pulled it out, the bucket was filled with cod fish.  Word got out about how plentiful the fish were, and people traveled from all over to settle in Newfoundland and to catch, sell and trade the fish.  One place of trade was Jamaica (let’s see Newfoundland to Jamaica is how far, and the date in history was?).  In Jamaica they make rum, and the fishermen loved the rum so much they would kiss a cod goodbye, knowing it was coming back to them as their now beloved beverage (you buying this yet?).  Sooooo in keeping with that time-honored tradition, Chef Loopie introduced us to his “little buddy,” a real (albeit frozen) cod fish.  Had it not been caught, Chef Loopie says the cod in his hands would have grown to a height of six feet and weighed 130 pounds (a fish story?).  He claimed his daughter caught it last summer, and she decided her fish should become the most loved fish to come out of the waters of Saint John’s.  Since Chef Loopie has used it ever since his daughter’s wish is fulfilled.  We were directed to pucker up and to give this fish a kiss.  He then went through the bar and with roars of laughter, we all became subjects of youtube legend .

Shot glasses of screetch rum were then passed out, and once everyone had a glass, Chef Loopie said he would like to make a special toast.  He said he had had the honor of meeting Anthony Bourdain who completed this ceremony here at Christian’s.  He wanted to honor Bourdain with a toast in his memory: “here’s to health and your company, and one for the lasses.  Let’s drink and be merry and drink with our glasses, let’s drink and be merry all thoughts to refrain, for we may or may not ever be all here again. ”  We then tossed back our shot glasses and tasted what had to be the foulest, nastiest tasting alcohol we had ever experienced.

He still had a phrase he had to teach us.  It was “aye bye.”  It means “the weather is nice today…I agree.”  He said it was a phrase we could use in any situation when speaking to anyone from Newfoundland.  It’s easier than asking them to repeat whatever it was they had just said because repeating it wouldn’t help us understand what had been said anyway!  Just say “aye bye.”  He had us practice, and a lot of people said “aye boy.”  He gently corrected us by reminding us when we shop in America for electronics it’s at Best Buy, not at Best Boy.

We then moved on to what Chef Loopie called “the graduate level phrase” of being an honorary Newfounlander.  We were told that when asked if we were ready to complete our Screetch In, the proper response is “Deed I is me old cock, and long may your big jib draw.”  Of course this brought loud uproarious laughter followed by a scolding that this wasn’t sixth grade health class!  Deed I is me old cock comes from cockney English and means yes I am my old friend.  The last half means may your big sails be filled with wind which is a wish for good luck.  We parroted the phrase one more time and Chef Loopie declared us all honorary Newfoundlanders.  Rowdy shouts of joy followed, and we each received a certificate, suitable for mounting.  Stop by Christian’s if you’re in the neighborhood!

Saturday morning took us on a bumpy road to Argentia for our ferry ride back to Nova Scotia.  Along the way we couldn’t help but to stop to admire the view in Placentia.

The car ride to the ferry was bittersweet.  We recalled all the places, people and experiences that filled eight days spent on this beautiful island.  We had heard that the people of Newfoundland were different from other people we might encounter in our travels, and we would heartily agree. You are treated like family when you’re here.

Barbara and Brian

Did we fail to mention that there is only one road around The Rock?  No matter which way you go there’s only one way around the island, and, if you wish, back.  Since we had to go back by Rocky Harbor to move on to Lewisporte and eventually Twillingate in search of whales and icebergs, the siren song of the Treasure Box (our breakfast place) was calling our name for a second visit.  Not that we minded another chance to visit with Joyce and Boyd!  Little did we know that we would get to meet Joyce’s family, her mum, da and 2 sisters who also happen to live in Rocky Harbor.  Such warm, open and lovely people.

Back on Trans Canadian Highway 1, we headed for Lewisporte.  We did observe a young moose whose antlers had not come in yet feeding on the side of the road, but we were convinced it was a tourist plant since we’re still not persuaded they exist in the numbers estimated despite all the signs warning “Attention” and “Moose in Road.”

It was a long ride but the accommodations in Lewisporte were stunning.  A beach-front all-suite motel and our room faced the water – Notre Dame Bay, we think.  We had a California king bed, a full kitchen, and a large garden tub to soak our road-weary bones. We knew about Twillingate and searching for whales and icebergs in the North Atlantic, but what’s one to do in Lewisporte?

Turns out the city has installed a wonderful two-mile boardwalk around the city’s lake.  Gotta get those 10,000 steps in now don’t we?  As we walked around the lake I decided to take a few snapshots of the flora.

We were all set to chase after whales and icebergs out of Twillingate with Captain Dave, but we had to wait a day due to rainy weather.  So what to do?  Ever heard of Gander, Nova Scotia?  How about 9/11?  Or, more recently, of a Broadway play?

Gander is the home of the North Atlantic Aviation Museum. The museum opened its doors in 1996, and it boasts a colorful history in the development of Trans-Atlantic aviation (flyers had to stop somewhere to re-fuel…why not Gander?).  It’s a terrific hands-on museum; kids of all ages and fans of WWII aviation (Tom Mohr) will appreciate Gander’s role as an important strategic air base.

 

We also learned about the vital role Gander played on September 11, 2001.  When the United States was attacked and all flights were canceled, Washington DC diverted 38 planes to Gander.  Why not Halifax?  The reason is pretty simple.  Gander’s runways could handle the jumbo jets; Halifax couldn’t.  Nearly 7000 air passengers arrived unexpectedly, nearly doubling the population of this small Canadian town on an island in the North Atlantic.   What did the people of Gander and the surrounding communities do?   They rallied their resources (people, food, blankets, shelters – some even opened their homes) to take care of the “come from aways” – the name Newfoundlanders give to anyone who is not from the island.  Passengers and crew from nearly 100 countries faced intense scrutiny as they passed through customs, but the people of Gander considered everyone a guest and welcomed them with open arms.  People were in Gander unexpectedly and needed help and the communities made room for them.  Some were in need of medical attention, and medical personnel and pharmacists worked around the clock to help.  Every school, gym, community center, church and camp opened their doors.  Volunteers organized donations of toiletries, clothes, toys, towels, toothbrushes, pillows, blankets and bedding.  Meals were cooked, kosher diets were accommodated, grocery store shelves went bare, including the local Walmart.  The ice hockey rink became the world’s largest refrigerator.  News of the generosity, hospitality and kindness of the communities and town of Gander went viral and were broadcast throughout the world.  Despite language barriers, cultural, religious, and racial differences, the residents entertained their guests with sightseeing adventures, music, and for some, hot showers in their private homes.  The passengers were so overwhelmed by the selfless acts of kindness and generosity.  Many offered to pay for all they had received, but the residents refused to accept any money.  We learned that thousands of dollars were later donated to Gander.  Here’s something else: if you try to thank someone from Gander for all they did to help in America’s darkest hour, the response you most often hear is “we still don’t know what all the fuss is about.”  The people of Gander are a shining example of humanity at its best.  We were incredibly touched by their compassionate story.

Here’s another example of the spirit and the people of Gander, Newfoundland.  The rain let up and we stopped at the monument commemorating the crash of the Arrow Air transport carrying 256 US enlisted and officers of the 191st Airborne out of Ft Campbell, Kentucky.  On December 12, 1985 and on the way back from Egypt on a peacekeeping mission, the plane fell from the sky soon after re-fueling and taking off in Gander; all men and women aboard perished. The monument is called Silent Witness Memorial, and it stands in honor of American service men and women – not Canadian, not UN, but US men and women.

The next morning we packed our bag and headed for our adventure with Captain Dave in Twillingate.  We figured that with the predicted highs on the mainland in the lower 40s (maybe?) and predictably colder temperatures on the water we had to dress for the North Atlantic.  Turns out that there were seven passengers aboard for this 2-hour tour (humming a little tune are you?).  We were all met by the gregarious Captain Dave and his wife Christine.  Dave may take you out on the water, but Christine runs the show.  She asked us to follow her into a heated basement where she doled out adult extreme weather gear: large puffy pants with suspenders, large puffy jackets, fur-lined Fudd hats and thick gloves. We may have all looked like little kids whose parents had dressed them for fun in the snow, but Christine made sure we were ready.  Once we were out on the water, we were grateful to have the extra layer of thick padding.

Captain Dave is an interesting character.  He has lived his whole life on the tickle, and he motors his small craft like anyone who has spent a lifetime on the sea.  He says what he thinks and he doesn’t care if he is politically correct (I am what I am!).  He is gregarious, quick with a story, easy to laugh, and he makes it a point to find out something about everyone that sets sail with him.

He also tells his story without excuse.  Turns out that Captain Dave decided that a fisherman’s life was not a way to support a family, so he attended university and returned to this, his home community to teach school.  Can you imagine 1 school for all grades?  He retired from teaching, and opened up his icebergs and whale tour business.

As we made our way out toward the ocean, we stopped at the nest of an Osprey atop a large free-standing rock.  The Osprey greeted us with alarm, fluttering her wings and making noises to assure we did not trespass where we were not wanted.  We went into a cove where we saw our first bald eagle of the day high atop a tree, standing watch a distance from its nest.

As we traversed the coast line, Dave pointed out places where friends and family had lived, and he described how houses are moved on the water from one location to another.

We encountered some of Dave’s neighbors and life-long friends.  Greetings and good-natured ribbing were exchanged as well as updates on lobsters caught, fish caught, and frost warnings for the area.  Because of yesterday’s storm, the iceberg had moved some 7 nautical miles from its last location and it was too far out into the Atlantic to chase.  However, we did see harbor seals, and a couple of whales as we sailed back into the harbor.

This was a unique experience unlike other boat tours we have done with larger, more commercial companies.  Here was an opportunity to be immersed in the daily life of someone who has spent his life on the sea; to watch him pull up one of his lobster traps and to find crabs and sea urchins and a lobster.  Because of Dave’s ability to touch each of us we had the chance to imagine what it takes to depend on the water, and to wonder how one survives in such a harsh, unpredictable and isolating corner of the world.  While we may not have gotten to see an iceberg out in the ocean, Captain Dave was determined not to disappoint us.  In his upright freezer in the basement of his home he has a chunk of iceberg for all his guests to see and touch!

Disappointing that we did not get to see an iceberg on the open ocean, but the trip to Gander and our adventure with Captain Dave made for a great stop on our journey on The Rock.

Barbara and Brian

June 2018

Wasn’t sure at the time, but when we mentioned to folks we met along the way that we were heading to Newfoundland they referred to the place as “The Rock.”  No, not Dwayne Johnson – way cooler.  There were also lots of tips about do this and do that, don’t do this and don’t miss that no matter what, eat lots of seafood, and keep you’re ears open because the locals have a language all their own, but no explanation as to why Newfoundland is referred to affectionately (?) as “The Rock.”  Guess we’d have to figure that out ourselves.  Our new friends Patti and Faye made us promise to call them if we got in trouble because they both had lived in Newfoundland and had friends that could help us out (is that the Canadian equivalent of “I know a guy?”).

We had toyed with the idea of taking Aimee on the ferry to Newfoundland, but all-in-all it made sense to make The Rock a true vacation destination, drive TransCanadian Highway One from the Channel Port aux Basque ferry terminal to the Agentia ferry terminal, stay in small hotels and just treat ourselves.  Did I mention that TransCanadian Highway One from port to port without any side distractions is 860 km?

But what to do with our home and constant companion?  An easy 30 miles from the Newfoundland Ferry terminal is the town of Baddeck, and it looked to be a great place to hang for a few days when we returned to the mainland since the Cabot Trail, fossil fields, and the Alexander Graham Bell museum were close by.  Bras d’Or Campground looked ideal for our purposes, and since I was talking to the owner about a reservation for camping, well, it never hurts to ask if we could park Aimee for a week or so.  Since the campground wasn’t scheduled to open until a couple of days before we returned, and it’s not quite summer this far north, they said they’d be glad to look after Aimee for us.  Problem solved!

Long story to get to this point.  We left Truro early and headed to Baddeck to drop off Aimee.  As we drove into the campground, a bald eagle flew over us.  We smiled and felt a spiritual connection with this special place.

After bidding Aimee a fond farewell, we travelled to North Sydney to catch the ferry.  The ferry ride to The Rock is akin to taking the “red eye” from LAX to JFK; departure was scheduled for 11:45pm with disembarkment at 7am.  The ferry is an ocean-going craft with 150 staterooms, snack bar, restaurant, lounge and movie room, and it is large enough to accommodate 16-wheelers, construction vehicles and the largest motorhomes as well as a large number of passenger vehicles (including our Jeep).  It was a bit unnerving and slightly claustrophobic to be driving onto this huge vessel to then be directed to drive down into the belly of the ship.  Once parked, we hauled our belongings to the elevator, and we were soon in our “stateroom” on the 8th deck of this magnificent vessel. The room had four berths: two top and two bottom. We couldn’t imagine four people trying to maneuver in those tight quarters, but as cramped as it might have seemed we were happy to have a place to lay our weary heads.

We were startled out of sleep by rather loud musical bongs and an announcement that we would be docking in one hour.  We dressed and gathered our belongings and wished we had thought to bring food with us.  Coffee was available, but the snack bar food offerings this early in the morning were not particularly appealing.  We entertained ourselves looking at the uniquely beautiful coastline as the ship sailed into the harbor. Excitedly we returned to our car, drove off the ship and were on our way to Gros Morne National Park.

Trans-Canada Highway One took us up and down and around some of the most unusual landscape.  Travelling through the Maritime Provinces we had become used to being “walled-in” by trees – deciduous and evergreens of many varieties – like tall soldiers standing watch over the miles and miles of highway throughout Canada.  Here the scenery was rocky and sparse (The Rock-get it?).  Around this corner you might see the Atlantic Ocean; around the next nothing but acres and acres of sometimes flat and always rocky undulating hillsides with few trees and little vegetation.  The next turn might bring you close to St. George’s Bay.  The missing element?  People and houses – yeah miles and miles of nothingness.  There were cautionary signs that warned of “Moose in Roadway”, but we didn’t see any living creatures.  And forget about it if you have to pee or get gas!  Occasionally we would encounter another vehicle, but for the most part we felt isolated and alone on this seemingly endless highway.

Friends told us to be patient, and 2.5 hours later it paid off.  We arrived in Corner Brook and we were able to stretch our legs and refresh ourselves.  Despite our pledge to avoid (ubiquitous) Tim Horton donuts for our entire stay in Canada, we caved, and ate a half dozen as we drove to our next stop:  the Discovery Centre in Gros Morne National Park.

 

Gros Morne National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of its unusual and incredible geology.  The brochure stated that “the rocks on this island have forever altered our understanding of the Earth’s history and the theory of plate tectonics helping to prove that continents really do collide and mountains do move.”  The park is also working to establish itself as a Dark Sky Preserve.  We had seen so many amazing photographs of the night skies in Newfoundland, including the Aurora Borealis, and we were eager to have our own experience to share on our blog.  Unfortunately, the night skies were so cloud-filled that we were only able to see Venus and Mars.  It did not diminish our overall experience in the least.

The Discovery Center is just on the outskirts of The Tablelands, and the displays do a really nice job of describing what it is you’ll be seeing in visiting the area.  We learned that The Tablelands is one of only two places in the world where you can walk on the mantle or middle layer of the earth.  Park documents stated: “pushed in place as continents collided almost half a billions years ago, it’s orange weathered rock is from the middle layer of the earth.” Crazy, right?  We couldn’t wait to experience it and instantly were on a mission to see The Tablelands before we called it a day.

The gravel path from the parking lot is easy to travel, and we appreciated the opportunity to get in our 10,000 steps.  The Tablelands is just as advertised.  There is an eerie beauty to the area with melting snowcaps creating miniature waterfalls, wild rose bushes, lower creeping plants like strawberry, short grasses and weedy blooming plants adding life to the otherwise barren terrain.  The fast-flowing river at the end of the walk is the result of melting snow and rain fall, and will be gone by the middle of July.  The hike ends in a magnificent canyon view.

From The Tablelands our next stop was at the Visitors Center.  In talking with the Rangers we learned that the two “must sees” in the park were The Tablelands and a boat tour of Western Brook Pond.   We set up the boat tour for the next day.  Exhausted from the ferry ride and our adventures of the day, we headed to our motel in Cow Head.

We drove to Rocky Harbour for breakfast at a delightful place called the Treasure Box. Rocky Harbour is a sweet little sea coast village, with many salt box homes not too far from the beach.  We were greeted by the owners, Boyd and Joyce, who immediately engaged us in conversation about our visit, where we were from, their feelings about US tariffs, and their occasional visits to the States.  Half of the building is devoted to the restaurant; the other half is filled with knick knacks and Newfoundland T-shirts, magnets, the usual.  However in the back room, there was an incredible array of felt hats, knit hats, scarves, gloves and sweaters, many of them made by Joyce. We were impressed! Reminded us of how Elyssa spent the long cold winters in Vermont making quilts.

After a delightful breakfast, some good conversation, and sandwiches to go for lunch, we headed out to the light house at Lobster Cove, and a walk around the well-worn paths, taking in all the sights.  We began to notice that most every place we went there were two red Cape Cod Muskoka chairs facing the water.  Turns out there was a challenge dating back to 2012 that wasn’t completed until 2015 involving the placement of 18 pairs of wooden red chairs scattered throughout Gros Morne Park.  The challenge was to find and identify all 18 chairs.  The chairs remain as a curiosity and as a gentle reminder to visitors to slow down and to take time to just sit and enjoy this incredible park, the beautiful bays and the gentle people who live in and around Gros Morne.

We also stopped at Martins Point to see what remained of the wreck of the S.S. Ethie. Apparently the Captain intentionally ran the Ethie aground during a terrible storm in December, 1919 saving all aboard including an infant.

On the way to our boat ride on Western Brook Pond we stopped briefly to look for the Green Pointe Geological Site.  Turns out we were in the wrong place, but we did find some interesting tracks during our hike.

We were advised to arrive 45 minutes early for our boat ride because we had to hike from the parking lot to the boat dock.  One of the curious things we learned is that this is a fresh water lake once connected to the ocean.  The billion-year-old cliffs formed fjords in their day, the moose and caribou frequented the shores for fresh water, and the first nation peoples used the pond as a source of fish.  But the water no longer flows to the ocean and the fjords are now just deep inlets.  There are 2 more curious things about Western Brook Pond:  the water in the lake completely replenishes itself every 15 years through rainfall and snowmelt only, and millennia have past since the pond was connected to the ocean causing the waters to have become void of any minerals or other nutrients that support life.  It is one of those very rare bodies of water in which there are no fish or aquatic plant life.  We were treated to several cascading waterfalls that feed the lake as well as towering cliffs standing like sentries watching over our visit to their land.  The trip was magnificent and we thoroughly enjoyed the humor of the crew and their knowledge of this beautiful landscape.

We had one more site that we wanted to see before we called it a day.  This was our last day in Gros Morne, and we had been told at breakfast by a couple that Green Point Geological Site was not to be missed.  Green Point is a unique landscape like no other that we had seen so far on The Rock.  Scientists believe that the rocks at the geological site were formed on the bottom of an ancient ocean almost 500 million years ago. For all of our rock nerd family and friends (Kea, Jordan, Jaimee, Ben S.), geologists have identified some fossil graptolites and conodonts  that apparently define the boundary between the Cambrian and Ordovician periods.   Your eyes can’t believe what they are seeing!  It was as if some mighty force took the earth and turned it sideways. Plate tectonics in action?  We were timid about walking on some of the rock strata but it would be impossible to erect a wooden walkway to protect these seemingly fragile rock forms and fossils because when the tide rolls in, the site can only be viewed from the cliff above.  Green Point was a perfect ending to our amazing stay in Gros Morne National Park.

We barely touched the beginning of all that can be explored and discovered at Gros Morne National Park.  This is one of those places we truly would like to visit again!

Barbara and Brian

June, 2018

Leaving out of Fredericton, New Brunswick we found ourselves for 2 nights in Truro, Nova Scotia.  Truro is just about halfway from Fredericton to North Sydney (where we will pick up the Newfoundland ferry), and as we found out it is home to one of the earth’s anomalies.

Truro is home to one of the Bay of Fundy’s tidal bores.  Know what a tidal bore is?  Nah, neither did we.  But here’s the scoop.  Rivers run from their headwaters to a larger body of water, and in this case the Salmon River runs through Truro into the Bay of Fundy.  BUT, the high tides in the Bay of Fundy are so powerful that at high tide the flow of the river reverses.  Yup – the tide causes the river to flow from the Bay of Fundy upstream!   The pictures do not do this phenomenon justice.  Watching it occur was definitely a breathtaking experience.

We have to share a picture of a visitor to our campsite.  Neither of us have seen such a large pheasant close-up but this fellow was strutting his stuff in the early morning as we were travelling out to take a walk in the town’s very, very lovely Victoria Park.  I hear there’s good eating in those things!

We got our 3 mile or so, 10,000 steps, and 45 flights of stairs in during the couple of hours we spent hiking the Vibert Trail.  The trail featured a wonderful waterfall, and, we were told, is home to quite a herd of deer.

Last stop for us in this part of Nova Scotia was the Five Island Lighthouse park which is located at the northeast corner of the Bay of Fundy.  We watched commercial clam fishermen digging clams during low tide, an ATV scooting along the hardpack, and just simply took in the view.

Just have to take a minute to mention our wonderful neighbors Patti and Faye who invited us to share some wine, conversation, and their fire.  Although now residing in Nova Scotia they both had lived in Newfoundland for a good portion of their lives and educated us on Newfoundland colloquialisms, what to see and what to do while in the Province; the best fish and chips in St. John’s, and they offered to call friends to help us out should we get in trouble.  Their warmth and friendship is greatly appreciated!

Hard to believe that we left Bethlehem almost a month ago.  So much we’ve seen, so much we’ve done, so many miles we’ve traveled.  Even with so much behind us, our excitement is building anticipating getting ourselves on the ferry to Newfoundland.

Barbara and Brian

June, 2018

I’ve not spent any substantial time getting a true feel for Canada.  Oh sure, I went to a Canadian fishing camp when I was 15; in college some friends and I went over to Windsor, Ontario to drink alcohol and chase women at the topless bars (honesty, finally!).  I was in Toronto for a professional conference (was out partying with friends and almost missed the last bus back to our hotel after closing down a bar or 2).  Barbara and I drove across Southern Ontario from Niagara Falls to Ann Arbor to go spend a weekend with Graham.  And we took a cruise from Boston that stopped in Halifax, PEI, Quebec and finally dropped us off in Montreal before we flew back to the States.

The first part of this journey was planned to take us throughout the Canadian Maritime Provinces, the focus of the trip being to get to spend a week in Newfoundland (ask me about whether or not we “screetched in” later) before wandering west on our way through Quebec and Montreal and entering the States I’m not sure where.  Our trek north from Bar Harbor was magical as we traveled on 95 past the cities of Portland, Bangor and Lincoln.  At last we finished Maine’s 322 miles to come to the Canadian Border.

I don’t know what your experiences are with “going through customs.”  Honestly we’ve not been impressed with the process no matter where we’ve been in the world.  We’ve had a fruit basket and 2 bottles of wine confiscated, but usually there’s some greeting by a custom’s agent who says something like “enjoy your stay” or particularly to me, “welcome home big guy.”  But we did our homework anyhow, and thanks to a couple of great RV blogs, we were prepared for the inquisition!  The stop at the Canadian border was no big deal.  We were asked for our passports, the reason for our visit, and whether we were transporting firearms, alcohol, or tobacco.  We had to confess that we had some beer, wine and an unopened bottle of tequila which for some reason delighted the border agent.  Nothing was confiscated and we were shortly on our way.

After what seemed endless miles of the same highway (did I mention Canada is huge?  Its land mass is second only to Russia), we arrived in Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick.  We were disappointed that we didn’t see any moose along the way despite the repeated large yellow warning signs of “Moose in Roadway.”  Our rustic campsite looked out over the St. John River – no moose sighted there either.  We started to wonder if the signs were all a ploy to keep us awake and ever vigilant as we drove what seemed endless miles of the same forested scene played over and over.  Not to take anything away from the beauty of Canada; it is truly awesome.  However, we often felt that the trees were just biding their time until they could reclaim those busy roadways.

Fredericton seemed somewhat frenetic. Lots of cars traveling along one of two very busy streets dense with every imaginable retail business: ubiquitous Tim Horton’s, food co-ops, fast food (KFC, McDonald’s (with a red maple leaf in the golden arch), and Dairy Queen, to name a few); Irving (Circle K brand) and Esso gas stations and lots and lots of little mom and pop shops in endless miles of strip malls.  For those who are curious, the cost of gas was about $3.85 a gallon.

We spent the evening of our first day locating a TD Bank where we could exchange our American dollars for Canadian dollars.  We bought some groceries and headed back to Aimee to eat and unwind and to figure out where we wanted to go the next day. As you have probably surmised, there is not a lot to do outdoors in Fredericton in the off season, and the off season ends the weekend of June 23.  But as long as there is sunshine and no rain, we longed to be outdoors.

Our travels took us to the lovely seaside village of St Andrew’s By-The-Sea, located about two hours southwest of Fredericton.  St Andrew’s is a charming resort town on the banks of The Bay of Fundy.  Barbara was eager to see lots and lots of whales but unfortunately the whale tours only happen on weekends at this time of the year.  The weather was about 50 degrees with a cool wind.  We made the most of our visit though, walking the streets, enjoying the variety of small boutiques.  We thoroughly enjoyed our brief stay, and could imagine what it must be like when the town comes into season at the end of June!

 

 

We left St Andrew’s and headed to Saint John, New Brunswick, hoping to see moose or whales.  Saint John reminded us of the shipping ports in Philadelphia or any other urban area: very busy and very congested.  Our hopes of seeing whales without boarding a tour boat were dashed again.  The neighborhoods near the docks seemed kind of rough and unwelcoming so we headed back to our campground.

Someone had described New Brunswick as the boring Canadian Providence.  Perhaps the city centers are too familiar to anyone from the east coast, but the small towns and villages, particularly those on the Bay of Fundy are a real treat to visit.

Barbara and Brian

Several years ago, Barbara and I had a sorta 1-day cruise ship/bus-trip excursion through the Park, and we have wanted a re-visit.  From that first visit we remembered our guide talking about “Thunder Hole” – a cut out in the rocks that magnified the sound of waves crashing against the rocks at high tide.  We remembered the panoramic view from the top of Cadillac Mountain, and, of course, the moose on top of one of downtown Bar Harbor’s finest drinking establishments.  Just for the record, we didn’t hear thunder either time.

A curious fact about Acadia is that private homes and privately held lands are interspersed within and surrounding the National Park, and local citizens permitted “carriage trail” hiking paths to traverse across their private property that are open to the public.  This was negotiated by John D. Rockefeller, Jr. in the 1920s.  Rockefeller loved the Park; he was quite a horseman, and he wanted a place to ride undisturbed by motorized vehicles.

The majority of the Park is located on Mt Desert Island.  Hop in or on your favorite vehicle and ride leisurely along the 27-mile Park Loop Road.  There are some substantial elevations that prohibit hiking by most of us amateurs; however, while driving the Loop Road, stop and take some time to hike a short trail or just stop and admire how truly beautiful this park is.  You’ll find the 27 miles goes by pretty quickly.  Thunder Hole and Cadillac Mountain  are part of  your journey, but visit sand beach, and take the (mostly up hill) half-mile hike to see Bubble Rock.

 

I hope you’ll not be tempted to spend too much time in Bar Harbor and with the attractions of the Park Loop Road.  There are a few more spots not to be missed.  As you leave Mt. Desert Island to the west you pass through Southwest Harbor, past the cobblestone seawall, and you are then on your way to Bass Harbor and Seal Cove.  Consider visiting the lighthouse at Bass Harbor and climb amongst the rocks to get the best view of the rocky craggy shoreline.  Consider stopping to admire the very pretty inlet at Seal Cove as well.

There is one rather cool thing to do.  Low tide occurs in the morning, and at low tide you can actually walk the sea floor from Bar Harbor to Bar Island.  Might be a little too early for some of you, but bite the bullet for a once-in-a-lifetime activity.  You have 1 1/2 hours to complete the maybe 2-mile hike from the town to the top of the trail on Bar Island and back.  There are notices all over Bar Island about calling for a water taxi should you be stranded.

Barbara and Brian

 

I forgot to mention in the last post that we had a stowaway from Pennsylvania to Cooperstown.  At our campground in Cooperstown, I discovered in one of our storage bins that a small frog had made the trip with us.  Luckily the campground had a pond and a fair share of wetlands so we’re confident that our hitchhiker found a safe new home.

From baseball to witches, we left Cooperstown for Salem, Massachusetts.  I had been through the area on business some time ago but hadn’t stopped.  Barbara had never been.  We stayed at a delightful campground about 45 minutes away in Ayers.  The Boston Minuteman RV Park is situated amongst tall trees, and, even though Boston is one of the most congested areas on the east coast, you really do feel like you’re away from it all.  Highly recommended!

The infamous Salem witch trials began during the spring of 1692, after a group of young girls in Salem Village, Massachusetts claimed to be possessed by the devil and accused several local women of witchcraft.  A special court convened in Salem to hear the cases; the first convicted witch was hanged that June.  Seventeen others followed to Salem’s Gallows Hill, and 1 man was crushed to death following his conviction of witchcraft.  In total some 150 more men, women and children were accused over the next several months.  But by September 1692, the hysteria had begun to abate and public opinion turned against the trials.  The Governor disbanded the court, and later the Massachusetts General Court annulled the guilty verdicts.

Had the young girls stepped up and revealed that their possession story was made up, the good citizens of Salem would not have been persecuted nor been put to death.  Lore and myth has prevailed over the centuries, and it has lent itself to Salem being a permanent (if dark) piece of American history.  The entire month of October is called Salem Haunted Happenings, culminating with an amazing All-Hallows eve celebration on 10/31.  Estimates are that on an annual basis more than 500,000 people visit Salem during the month of October.

 

Myths die hard, and Salem could give a few away and still have enough to keep us interested.  We spent a little more than an hour on a general information tour and another hour on a ghost walk.  It is true that Alexander Graham Bell demonstrated the telephone by making a call from the town’s Lyceum to a newspaper editor in Boston.  The police do have a witch’s emblem on their vehicles.  And people do believe that they have seen and felt spirits in many locations through-out the area.

In the midst of a true urban setting you will find yourself in a historic town with cobblestone streets, many buildings dating back to the 17th century, and a glorious park in the middle of town.  The historic district is only about a mile in length and 5-6 blocks wide.  We took a walk down to the docks and found a seafood lunch (how about cheese fries smothered in clam chowder-poutine New England style!), and made a quick trip to see the House of Seven Gables from the outside looking in.

All-in-all though you must respect Salem as a magical place, a place today that is inclusive and gives some consideration to the traditions that have held fast through the centuries.

Barbara and Brian

 

 

 

 

May 29, 2018

PROLOGUE:  Some would say our real journey starts today, saying goodbye to all we have known in Pennsylvania and hitting the road.  Our close friends, Tom and Landa, started their journey a year ago and they have made it this far without looking back.  Whether they realize it or not, they are our new role models.  All of the miles they’ve traveled, all of the things they’ve encountered; all of the things they’ve seen, and all of the trials they’ve faced will be a veritable education for us during the early part of being on the road.  Check out Tom and Landa’s adventures at https://mohrsontour.blog.

COOPERSTOWN:  Growing up in the 50s and 60s, kids idolized their favorite professional baseball players.  Professional and collegiate football and basketball teams and players eventually grew in popularity, but it was the baseball players we imitated in our little league and stickball games.  The youth of today may be active in their own choice of sport(s), but they tend to pay attention to the portrayal of athletes as depicted by the video gaming industry.  They may know the best of the best in an incredibly wide assortment of professional sports, but they lose the impact of the game’s heroes.  It’s just not the same.

As a youngster growing up in New York, and by the time I cared about baseball, there was only 1 baseball team in the city.  Some remained diehard Giants or Dodgers fans, but in my mind, true New Yorkers would just never forgive those 2 teams for abandoning their roots and moving to the west coast.  The Yankees were the ultimate team for the Big Apple:  aggressive, smoothly playing championship ball year after year with a team of loyal professionals, held together by MLB’s penultimate manager, and with enough heroes over the years to keep the fans arguing about just who was the best of the best.  Oh yeah, my Dad grew up in Washington Heights, just across the river from “the House That Ruth Built.”  I was inevitably going to be a Yankees fan (hey Graham — know exactly what I mean?)

If you haven’t figured it out, the reason for the stop in Cooperstown was the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.  Cooperstown is a fairly small town in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains in Central New York, and it comes alive annually for the Hall of Fame induction ceremony and for the Heritage Day Hall of Famers ballgame.  Cooperstown is the birthplace of James Fenimore Cooper; it has a fine art museum,  fantastic opera during the summer months, and with its lakes and woods, it is a terrific vacation spot.

The museum is much bigger than you might anticipate.  Upon entering, the staff will politely direct you to begin your tour on the 2nd floor.  You’ll get a chance to view a short film of vignettes by former big leaguers talking about their love of the game.  Barbara and I were brought to tears by the words of these humble men.  We felt their commitment to be the best; some of them faced daunting challenges and yet they achieved what others could not.  We were consumed by their passion for the game as we strolled together down memory lane.

You’ll see the early pre-cursors of the game, and you’ll explore the game as it was played since the 19th century.  Stars throughout the history of the game are highlighted as are teams of certain eras that shaped the game we know today.  The stars that impacted the game are featured, and whether you favor Cap Anson, Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays, Ernie Banks, Roberto Clemente Walker, Cy Young, or Sandy Kofax you can spend some time remembering being that kid, collecting their baseball cards, and looking up to these men.  There are clubhouse lockers for each of the current major league teams.  All of the memorabilia on display has been donated.  There is so much to take in and it does become mesmerizing.

We took a break for lunch and a short walk to Doubleday Field before returning to the Hall of Fame to view the plaques.

The Hall of Fame is a long corridor with multiple alcoves on each side that house the plaques of enshrined ballplayers.  The first class of ballplayers enshrined are at the very back in the center.  Here you’ll find the class of 1936: Ty Cobb, Walter Johnson, Christy Mathewson, Babe Ruth and Honus Wagner.  All of the other plaques are arranged in chronological order.  The place for this year’s inductees was noted by each player’s signature on a mounting square.

Felt like a little kid again!

May, 2018

During this Memorial Day weekend, before leaving Pennsylvania, and following Barbara’s question of “what do you want to do today”, I suggested that we should hike a small portion of the Appalachian Trail.  Little did I know that we’d be on the Trail for 5 hours and hike almost 7 miles.  For those that keep track of such things that’s over 18,000 steps and 44 flights of stairs!  And I’m not sure why I keep forgetting that if you hike up you have to hike down as well.  For this old timer up burns the hamstrings and down murders the knees.

Stealing from the National Park Foundation: “The Appalachian National Scenic Trail is a 2,180-mile footpath along ridgecrests and across the major valleys of the Appalachian Mountains from Katahdin in Maine to Springer Mountain in northern Georgia. The trail traverses Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina and Georgia. The Appalachian Trail (AT) is used by day, weekend and other short-term hikers, section-hikers and thru-hikers (who hike the entire length of the trail, start to finish, in one season).

“The Appalachian Trail began as a vision of forester Benton MacKaye, was developed by volunteers, and opened as a continuous trail in 1937.  It was designated as the first National Scenic Trail by the National Trails System Act of 1968. The Trail is currently protected along more than 99 percent of its course by federal or state ownership of the land or by rights-of-way.  Annually, more than 4,000 volunteers contribute more than 185,000 hours of effort on the Appalachian Trail.”

Barbara and I followed the Delaware Water Gap Mount Tammany Trail past lookout point to the summit, and then we hiked back down following the fire road to our car.  3 things were noticed during our hike.  The trail was blocked at several points by trees uprooted by the amount of snow this winter, paired with a very wet spring, and the path is rocky.  There were also many individuals, couples, and families with and without dogs who also took the time today to hike the trail.

 

We were able to complete our hike…albeit exhausted, with sore muscles and joints and feet, screaming for rest from the rocks.

Barbara and Brian