Day 28 – Monday, June 9, 2014

South Harbor, Nova Scotia to Hilden, Nova Scotia – 302 miles

Technically, today we began our journey homeward.  Our campsite last night marked the farthest point from home that we’d be traveling, so beginning today, every mile we drive will be taking us back toward Colorado – although in a roundabout way.  I checked our accumulated total mileage so far, and the GPS tells me it’s 5315 miles.  Just for grins, I punched the “Go Home” button on the GPS to see what kind of route it would generate to get us back to our driveway, and after a surprisingly short crunching of numbers, it came up with a route that totaled 2797 miles.  Of course that’s the most direct way, traveling on Interstate Highways down through New England and New York, and picking up I-80 across the Midwest, then I-76 down to Denver.  I guess theoretically we do that in five days, maybe six at the most, if we really put the pedal to the metal – or less if we drove straight through without stopping to rest at night.  Not my way of traveling, but it could be done.  We’ll probably do it in three weeks minimum, and probably cover at least another four thousand to forty-five hundred miles.

The first part of the journey – 60 miles or so – was another beautiful drive down the coastline of the Cape Breton Highlands, only this time it was the Atlantic Ocean off to our left side.  It was a crystal clear morning with only a hint of a cloud here and there.  The eastern horizon, out in the Atlantic, was a sharp horizontal line, unobscured by the haze layer often seen over the ocean.  The water itself was deep blue and smooth, with hardly a trace of surf against the shore.  The local fishermen were taking advantage of the calm conditions, and there were dozens of lobster boats checking traps all across our field of view.   

The shoreline itself, while generally very rocky, was not as rugged as we saw yesterday on the western side of the island.  The land was not as high in elevation, and there were many small sandy beaches here and there, especially where they occurred at the mouths of rivers.  Where the beaches were adjacent to the rocky headlands, they consisted of fist-sized to softball-sized cobbles rather than sand.  The water everywhere was as clear as a bell, and quite cool when I dipped my finger into it at one point.

We eventually reached the end of the highlands, and the terrain became more benign.  Looking off to the east, we could see the eastern part of the island was much lower, and although there were a few low hills, it looked generally pretty flat.  Whatever titanic forces pushed the earth’s crust upward to form the highlands somehow bypassed that portion of the island.

It was a little after 1:00pm when we reached the Canso Causeway back to the mainland. Coming off the causeway, we turned to the east to follow what was identified on the map as a scenic drive.  It turned out to be not that scenic, at first skirting around an unsightly rock quarry, then an industrial area of docks and oil tanks along the shores of the Canso Strait.  The road finally turned south, paralleling the eastern shoreline, but too far inland to offer views of the water.  It was mainly just  a narrow winding road through thick willow or alder scrub which blocked any view to either side.  We could occasionally catch a glimpse of the ocean, but even then it was just the blue horizon off in the distance.  And the road itself was quite rough, rattling our poor motorhome like ball bearings in a tin can.  Perhaps the road and the scenery get better farther south if you stick with it, but after nearly an hour of this we found an escape route that cut back inland toward the central Trans-Canada Highway.  While we generally prefer the back roads, the scenery along this mostly multiple-lane super highway was much better than we had seen since arriving back on the mainland, plus we could get some miles under our belt and hopefully make up some of the time we had spent dilly-dallying around for the past few days.  We eventually turned southeast toward Halifax, and stopped for the night just past the town of Truro.  

All in all, the day was not a total loss, because of the spectacular ride this morning.  But nevertheless we’re looking forward to a better day tomorrow.

 

Typical Atlantic side shoreline, Cape Breton Highlands

Lighthouse at Neil's Harbor

Broader view of Atlantic shoreline

Day 27 – Sunday, June 8, 2014

Linwood, Nova Scotia to South Harbor, Nova Scotia – 160 Miles

We began the day with Mass at Our Lady of Grace Monastery, just a few miles up the road from the Hyclass Campground where we stayed last night.  Mass began at 9:00am, but because it was a traditional High Mass with candles, incense, and everything sung or chanted, it took almost an hour and a half.  We weren’t sure if they do a High Mass every week because it is a monastery or if it was only this week since it was Pentecost Sunday.  The monastery chapel was a beautiful, circa 1950s structure that easily would have seated perhaps 300 people, but there were only a dozen or so attendees in addition to the priest, two acolytes, and a handful of nuns who were seated in a small chapel off to the side.  It was obvious that we were not regulars – besides driving up in a motorhome with Colorado license plates, we were the only ones who were not recognized as neighbors by the regular attendees.  Everyone was very nice, however, and most made a point of coming over to us and greeting us or welcoming us to their community.  That has been something we’ve noticed ever since we first entered Canada back in Saskatchewan and then re-entered into Ontario.  Every single person we’ve met: store clerks, wait persons in restaurants, gas station attendants – everyone –has greeted us with a smile and made us feel very welcome.  Canada is a country of nice people.

After leaving Mass, we stopped for gas before getting back on the highway, then immediately set out for Cape Breton, the northernmost part of the Province of Nova Scotia.  Cape Breton is actually an island, or more precisely several islands separated from the mainland and from each other by a large inland “lake,” which is really a large bay connected to the surrounding ocean by several narrow straits and channels.  I’m not sure what the names of the different islands are, but as far as I know, they are collectively called Cape Breton Island.  I always assumed that the name comes from the cape at the northernmost tip of the island, which reaches out into the Cabot Strait, the wide body of water which forms the boundary between the Gulf of St Lawrence and the Atlantic Ocean.  It was therefore a bit of a surprise to me as I looked at the map and saw the actual name of the cape at the tip of the island is North Cape and not Cape Breton.  Oh well, you learn something new every day.

One reaches Cape Breton Island by driving across a short causeway, which is only about one kilometer long.  The narrow strait separating it from the mainland at that point is called the Canso Strait.  Once across the strait, we drove up the western coastal road toward the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, the one feature that most people seem to associate with this part of the province.  The early settlers of this area, after the French Acadians were driven out or assimilated into the “new” British culture, were Scottish – hence the name Nova Scotia.  The Scottish influence remains as seen in the names along the way: MacDonald, MacLeod, MacThis and MacThat.  As with many parts of Canada, the road signs are bilingual, only here they’re not bilingual English and French, they’re English and Gaelic.  A bit farther north, just as you approach the western entrance to the national park, the road passes through an Acadian region, and French once again becomes the other half of the bilingual equation.

For the most part, the road we followed passed through the rolling, wooded hills which we’ve come to expect for this area, with a higher, more mountain-like range to the east, toward the center of the island.  The farther north you go, however, the closer and closer the higher terrain inches over toward the shoreline until, just as you enter the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, there’s no shoreline left – the steep, cliff-like slopes come right down to the water’s edge.  Upon entering the park, the road immediately climbs the flank of these slopes and traces along their edges.  There are scenic viewpoints and turn-outs every few kilometers, giving spectacular views of the surf pounding against the rocky shoreline far below.  The road eventually tops out on a broad plateau some 1300 feet above sea level.  It then traverses a series of deep valleys with steep, winding grades that must reach 10 percent or more at times.  These  valleys empty out into small coves and bays on both the Gulf of St Lawrence side and the Atlantic side of the park, which stretches across the width of the island at this point.  Tonight we are camped alongside one of these coves, called Aspy Bay.  Our campsite is on a small bluff which looks down the bay and out into the Atlantic Ocean beyond.  Tomorrow we head south down the eastern side of the island, then back on the mainland and continue down to the Halifax area.

The road along the west side of Cape Breton Highlands

View from tonight's campsite, looking out into the Atlantic Ocean

Day 26 – Saturday, June 7, 2014

Georgetown, PEI to Linwood, Nova Scotia – 151 Miles

It was a relatively short day, driving-wise, as a good portion of it was taken up by the ferry crossing from Prince Edward Island to the Nova Scotia mainland.  We left Brudenell River Provincial Park about 9:00am, slowly inching our way through the staging area of a big fund-raiser race or biathlon – I’m not sure which it was, but it involved runners and bicyclists, and a large crowd that was gathered in and around the entrance to the park.  Clearing the crowd, we turned south, skirting our way around the inlets and bays of the southeast coast of the island.  The scenery was much the same as we had experienced during yesterday’s drive along the north coastal region, but not as hilly.  Where the north shore seems to be more oriented toward tourism, with the Green Gables House the epicenter, the southeast region seems more down-home local farms and not-so-well-kept rural homes.

Lighthouses are common along the coastline of Prince Edward Island, with its many inlets, points, and capes.  Our map indicated one in particular along this morning’s drive that caught our attention, the Cape Bear Lighthouse, located on the very southeast cape or tip of the island.  According to our tourist brochure, the Marconi radio station at this lighthouse was the first Canadian land-based station to receive distress signals from the HMS Titanic after it fatally struck the iceberg out in the mid-Atlantic.  The brochure mentioned that this lighthouse is still in operation, and that it is open to visitors during the summer months.  In addition, the brochure said, it contains a reconstruction of the Marconi station that received the Titanic’s S.O.S.  I was looking forward to seeing this historic radio station and taking a few pictures to share with my ham radio friends back in Denver.  Imagine our disappointment when we drove up to this isolated landmark and found it locked up tighter than a drum.  We had to satisfy ourselves with a few exterior shots of the lighthouse and the surrounding low cliffs down to the beach below.

From the lighthouse, it was only a short drive to the ferry terminal at Woods Island, which doesn’t seem to be an island at all – or if it is, the water around it has been filled in to create the ferry terminal.  We had almost two hours to kill before the ferry departure, so we went into the cafeteria at the terminal and had an early lunch, then took advantage of the free wifi to upload the previous two days’ blog entries.

The ferry is a large, modern vessel with at least two vehicle decks and two enclosed passenger decks above.  The cost for the 14-mile journey across the Northumberland Strait was $79.00 CDN (a bit less than $72.00 US at the current exchange rate).  The trip took an hour and fifteen minutes across gently rolling seas.  It was overcast and misty during the crossing, so photo ops were limited.  Apparently, however, later in the summer it’s common to see whales in the strait.

The mainland ferry terminal is located at Caribou, Nova Scotia, and when the massive hinged door at the front of the boat opens, it immediately disgorges its load of cars, trucks, RVs, motorcycles, bicycles, and a few pedestrians directly onto a four-lane freeway.  I have no idea where the pedestrians go from there – perhaps a friend meets them or maybe there’s a bus stop somewhere nearby.

A short distance inland there’s a large roundabout with at least six exits which launch vehicles toward various compass points.  This, of course, assumes that everyone knows where they’re going.  We had a vague idea, and our eeny-meeny-miney-moe choice turned out to be correct, so off we went in a generally eastward direction which would hopefully take us somewhere near where we wanted to be.  As soon as we could find a safe place, we pulled off the highway to consult our map and Good Sam Campground Guide.  We selected a couple of potential spots and off we went with our fingers crossed.  It was lightly raining on this side of the straight, but not enough to obscure or distract us from enjoying the beautiful countryside through which we were travelling.   It is much hillier here on the mainland, with elevations reaching as high as four to five hundred feet.  The hills were heavily wooded, and everywhere the land was brilliant green.  After about 50 miles or so we turned off onto a minor highway and found our campsite for the night – a place called Hyclass Campground (nothing but the best for us!), located right on the edge of a small inlet.  After some debate as to whether to pick a site with a view of the water or back in the trees where we’d be somewhat protected from the wind, we chose the trees.  We were glad we did, because when we went out for a walk, we nearly froze our patooties off down by the water.

I was going to post a couple of pictures from today, but it took me over an hour to upload the pictures that I added to the last two days’ blog  entries.  It’s getting late, so I’ll try to add them later when we have a better internet connection.

Day 25 – Friday, June 6, 2014

Prince Edward Island

Today turned out to be a pretty good day, all things considered.  After feeling a bit down and disappointed by my first impression of Prince Edward Island yesterday afternoon, we had a much more positive experience today.  We did, however, have our doubts as we got started this morning.  It rained pretty much all night. That in itself is not a bad thing, because the patter of raindrops on the roof of the motorhome as we snuggle in our tiny home away from home just makes things all the cozier.  We both woke up about 5:30am, but the sound of the rain lolled us back to sleep for another couple of hours – I guess we were both really tired after the long day of driving yesterday.  What really got us going though was the sudden sound of water splashing somewhere very close by.  Water was leaking in through our range hood and dripping on the cover of the cooktop, which lies just an arm’s length from my side of the bed.  We’d had this problem once before, when we spent the night in a coastal rain forest in western British Columbia while on our Alaska trip back in 2011.  I thought we had fixed that, though, since we haven’t had a leak there since then.  But I guess it must happen only when there is a certain slant to the motorhome if it’s not parked exactly level while it’s raining.  It wasn’t too bad, though, and actually went away once we got moving.

As we pulled away from our campsite, we felt sorry for our neighbors, who had spent the rainy night in a tent.  They were sitting in their car with the motor running, trying to warm up.  These are the times that confirm our decision a few years ago to give up tent camping and buy the motorhome.

We were uncertain as to what we should do for the rest of the day.  We had three choices – bid PEI farewell and return to the mainland, spend the day in Charlottetown, or continue with our original plan to drive around the island and spend one more night here.  There was no assurance that the weather would be better on the mainland, and if we went to Charlottetown we’d probably be walking around in the rain, so we decided to stick with our original plan, even if it meant driving in the rain.  So off we went.

Perhaps a brief description of Prince Edward Island is in order at this point.  The island lies a few miles off the north coast of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, just west of the point where the latter curves up into Cape Breton Island.  PEI, as it’s called, is about 120 miles long, east-to-west, and approximately 35 miles wide at its widest point.  It’s shaped like a large arc, sloping up to narrow points at the northeast and northwest ends.  Both the north and south coasts are cut by long, narrow inlets, bays, and river estuaries, some of which almost sever the island at points.  The island is joined to the mainland by the Confederation Bridge from New Brunswick, which I described yesterday, as well as served by a ferry to Nova Scotia.  The strait between PEI and the mainland is called the Northumberland Strait, and the sea off the north shore is called Prince Edward Sound, which is part of the Gulf of St Lawrence.  Geologically speaking, to my untrained eye, the island appears to be a large block of sandstone, and the soils are very red in appearance.  The terrain is mostly low, rolling hills, broken with traditional family farms and woods.  The highest elevation we’ve noticed on Garmin Gertie’s GPS as we drive around seems to be in the neighborhood of 130 to 140 feet above sea level.

Leaving Cabot Beach Provincial Park, we drove eastward, parallel to and a short distance inland from the north shore of the island.  The rain had let up to a mostly light mist with patches of low fog.  Even in those conditions, the driving was easy and the traffic was mostly non-existent.  The narrow roads wound through the hills and green valleys.  Fields on either side were either freshly plowed or just starting to burst with fresh new growth.  While we’ve never been to Ireland (yet), we could imagine it looking something like this. Where the road crossed the many inlets and bays, there were small docks and landings on the shores, to which were tied traditional lobstermen’s boats.  For a while the road veered over and rambled right along the shoreline, separated from the beach by a narrow band of dunes.   

The focal point of the north shore of Prince Edward Island, at least for ladies who grew up reading “Anne of Green Gables,” is the Green Gables house, the setting for the popular book which is apparently a must-read for pre-teen girls world-wide.  There were two places that friends who had been to Prince Edward Island and to Nova Scotia told us we absolutely must see, and this was one of them.  (The other is Peggy’s Cove on Nova Scotia, which I guess will be on our agenda in a few days).  So of course we had to stop when we saw the sign pointing travelers to this famous house.  

The Green Gables House is actually a typical 1800’s farm house, and the gables are (to no one’s surprise) painted a verdant Kelly green.  At the time the story was written, it was the home of some of the author’s relatives.  While the relatives themselves were not in the story, the house and the immediate surroundings were, and are undoubtedly immediately recognizable to those who grew up reading about Anne (I was a Hardy Boys fan myself).  It’s now a Canadian National Park, with a modest visitor center showing a short movie about Lady Maud Montgomery, the author, and her life in and around Cavendish, the town where all this is located.  The house is fully restored and furnished with authentic, though not necessarily original furnishings, and a period barn has been constructed on the site, complete with typical farm implements and equipment from the time period.

Lobster boats at north shore quay, PEI

Typical upland countryside, north shore region, PEI

Anne of Green Green House, PEI

We left the Green Gables House and continued into Charlottetown, the largest city on the island and the capitol of this small, self-contained province.  The original downtown area retains much of the character of the late 1700s and early 1800s, with many original buildings and several large churches of all denominations.  We even met a pair of Mormon missionaries doing their obligatory mission year.  After a delicious late lunch of seafood chowder and terriaki chicken stir fry, with chocolate cheesecake for desert, we set off for tonight’s destination, Brudenell River Provincial Park, near the town of Georgetown on the island’s east coast.  If all goes according to plan, we’ll begin the day tomorrow with a leisurely drive around the southeast coastal road, then take the ferry over to Nova Scotia.  

*******

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention a couple of thoughts on this day in history.  First, being the 70^th anniversary of the D-Day landings in Normandy, we should all give thanks to our fathers (or grandfathers) for the sacrifices they made for us on this day so long ago.  Whether they served in the invasion of France, elsewhere in the European theater, the Pacific, or at home as did my father who was a member of the Coast Guard Reserve, checking ships as they entered Galveston harbor, we owe them all thanks for the sacrifices they made preserving the freedoms we enjoy today.  They were truly the Greatest Generation. 

And secondly, our condolences go out to the families of the RCMP officers who were slain in Moncton, just a few miles from where I now sit.  Thanks to the diligent efforts of their colleagues, the perpetrator has been caught.  We should all pray for him as well as all those confused and mentally disturbed young men who have performed these senseless acts in the past.  Having endured the shootings at Columbine, the Aurora theater, and most especially at Arapahoe High School, we share a bond with the people of Moncton, albeit a bond we surely wish was not a part of our lives.