"We live on a blue planet that circles around a ball of fire next to a moon that moves the sea and you don't believe in miracles?!" -Anonymous Read more Exeter, NH, United States
  • Day 13

    How Far Can it Be?

    June 17, 2018 in Canada

    So, Sydney. Nova Scotia, not Australia. Let it be known that at least one person in this little ferry town has a sense of humor!(See picture #1 for my new favorite name for a hair salon)
    Photo #2 Shows the view from a park that I slept in the night before I sailed. These two ferries leave from Sydney with one, the smaller one, making the shorter, eight hour trek to Port aux Basque, Newfoundland. The larger one, the one I took, makes the longer, sixteen hour ride to Argentia, Newfoundland.
    As I watched the comings and goings from my "campsite", I realized that watching the eighteen wheelers disembark puts the size of this vessel into perspective. Basically, the hull is very much like the huge cargo ships that roll in to big ports stacked with shipping containers.
    On Sunday, I got up, had breakfast and scored a shower at a campground a little ways away.(Yes, I'm doing my very best not to spend money on campsites if I can help it!) From there, I got to the ferry and secured my spot in line. Now, as my ferry-savvy friends know, is where the flavor, the culture and the sociology of the next port starts to reveal itself. (See Photo #4). In the rows of vehicles waiting to get on the ship, I was surrounded by the following:
    1. The ATV'ers. A whole crowd of "quad riders" sat to my right. This piqued my curiosity in that I was wondering how far they planned to travel once off the ferry. I've been told that if Newfoundland were a state, it would rank just under California and Texas in size. To think of driving an ATV for any real distance didn't fit with my understanding of where I was going. Can you imagine drivng an ATV across the whole state of Texas?
    2. The "caravan". To my left was a crew of French speaking couples in my age group. Each couple had a big vehicle(F250's, Mercedes SUV's, Escalades) to haul their silver bullets, aka. Airstream RV's. They pulled out their lawn chairs, circled up, and proceeded to chit chat the wait away. These guys were obviously travel pros with a comfort level as a tribe that was clear even to this stranger. In front of me was a fancy Winnebago that looked like one of those Mercedes Sprint Campers. It belonged to a Buffalo, New York couple who were retired and travelling. They showed me inside their rig and we chatted a bit about how they had chosen the vehicle and where they were going. They asked me what I liked most about travelling alone and I said that I suppose being able to set my schedule without worrying I was impacting someone else. The man gestured to his wife and, with a twinkle of a tease in his voice, joked that she got to do that, too.
    The car in front of them was a white truck. And near it, a white haired, white mustached man with the tan of someone who is often outdoors. He had light blue, sparkly eyes that communicated a love of life with a dash of mischief thrown in. He had a Bruins jacket on(surprisingly ubiquitous up here) and was a chatter-er. He and his wife had their back tailgate popped and their Celtic music was loud enough to create a little party atmosphere around their vehicle. People walked by, stopped and talked, pet the couple's little dog and laughed. They made everyone laugh. After awhile the man gestured to me as I stood outside my truck enjoying the show. I walked over. "So what's the story with your licence plate?" "Oh. I'm a track and field coach". "So it's not on PURPOSE?"
    Sometimes I can be so dense.....Since arriving in Sydney, I have seen all sorts of signs for the Newfoundland ferry. Every one of them says this: "NFLD Ferry". I wondered why the abbreviation resonated so strongly with me?!(duh!) So this man thought I was a local. He thought my plate stood for Trek-Newfoundland.
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  • Day 12

    Necessary slow down...

    June 16, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 52 °F

    Little slow down in the (comparatively) densely populated city of North Sydney. I booked my ferry travel to Newfoundland and changed the oil in the truck. I also plan do laundry today and then get groceries that will presumably, be cheaper here than on Newfoundland. Tomorrow night I will board the ferry for the 16 hour sail to Argentia, Newfoundland. Apparently pronounced, "Are-JEN-sha".Read more

  • Day 11

    Early Bird Gets the Moose!

    June 15, 2018 in Canada ⋅ 🌧 39 °F

    I rumbled up over the mountains of Cape Breton Highlands National Park thinking, "How strange to be this far from home and to be so familiar with the road". When I was here last summer, the road was all torn up with construction and now, this morning, it was new-tar, smooth-sailing. And, as usual, there were very few cars on the road. It was very early morning. The light was low and slanted but from about 1200m away I saw him. He was right next to the road, nibbling on the new green shoots of spring (seriously, it is still like NH's late April up here). I slowed way down, got the camera ready, and inched toward him. I knew he'd eventually bolt so I just tried to enjoy the moment, allowing my mind to gobble details. He was a gangly teenager. And, apparently, like human teens, when one is hungry, competing thoughts(like humans coming dangerously close) don't quite register as the normal threat. I got closer, and closer, and closer until I was able to stop the car right near him and just watch. So fun! I thanked him and moved on down the road.
    It was then that, amazingly, another treasure appeared. I had just reached the eastern coast and I was marveling at how the water looked Caribbean blue-green when, my animal spotter eye noticed a big dark blob that didn't belong. (Can you spot her in picture 3?). She, unlike her teenage counterpart, noticed me from far away and tromped hurriedly back into the brush. Long look or short glimpse, it was still awesome to see my second moose of the morning. I drove slowly for about another 300m and took one more look over my left shoulder just in case she had popped out on the other side of the clump of brush. Ooooh!!
    Two little mooselets! No more than a few days old. The color of cinnamon or the perfect camoflauge, orangy-brown of a dead pine bough. They, too, scampered back toward the thick brush where their now identified Mama was waiting. Don'tcha love Cape Breton?
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  • Day 9

    Doing the Salmon Dance

    June 13, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ☀️ 48 °F

    I've learned to expect this on every trip I've taken. A moment where I feel unsettled. A moment where I hear myself wondering, "What are you doing?". And it often comes in the very beginning of a trip when I'm still in "pedal to the metal" mode. Long driving days, trying to see everything all at once, not giving myself permission to slow down. Usually accompanied by loose ends at work that are still requiring my attention or little fires with tenants, also requiring my attention. I felt those emotions over the last few days but the return trip to Margaree River is helping to soothe and refocus.
    Last year, I came through here by mistake and had a fishing day with a generous local gentleman who showed me all the good spots! So this year, despite the fact that the gentleman I mentioned is away for a few weeks, I have the good fortune of knowing right where to go. It is cold still(49 degrees), and the apple blossoms and leaves are just coming into full bloom but the salmon, according to locals, always arrive by June 10th. It is now June 14th. And there is no sign of them yet. I'll wait til morning, fish one more session and then push on northward. Anyone know the "Salmon Dance"?
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  • Day 7

    Kejimkujik

    June 11, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ☀️ 41 °F

    Kedji-ma-KOO-jik. OR, as I like to call it, kedji-ma-ma-MAgic! A beautiful little oasis in the middle of the South Shore of Nova Scotia. Owls and loon and gently burbling, delicate rivers made for a wonderful way to spend a night and an early morning. After a couple of hours on the Mersy River, I got back into the truck and put in some highway miles heading northeast. Generally heading toward Margaree and, hopefully some salmon fishing!Read more

  • Day 6

    Apologies for my ancestor..

    June 10, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 50 °F

    Happy Birthday, Heather!!! I traveled to Hall's Harbour on this day of the birth of one of the most spectacular Halls. The short story is I think Heather has built up enough good karma in this world to offset our less than stellar ancestor, Captain Samuel Hall, for whom this place is named.
    For starters, I awoke near the trail head for Cape Split, made a little coffee and oatmeal. packed an apple and a peanut butter sandwich, and set off on the trail. It was meant to be about 8 miles round trip, but the part of my brain that can be obsessive kicked in letting me know that I was still in at least partial "work mode". I couldn't shake the idea that I had a deadline today. I was already about a mile into the trail, but I knew I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy the wander unless I backtracked to make that phone call. The deadline I had in my mind was a day earlier than the real one but was able to take care of the dangling details which cleared my mind for the morning. Accounting for the mile out and then back, the walk was an even 10 miles instead of 8. A piece of cake for my distance running friends!
    One of the cool things about most of Canada is it is still easy to be alone. At the early hour of the day, even with my fits and starts, I saw only one couple on the whole hike. It was a beauty of a walk. Ferns unfurling, little hellebore, foam flowers, and the sound of the ocean were all part of the experience. About 1000m from the arrival to the furthest most point, I could hear the cacophony of seabirds. What made it weird was the fact that I was also hearing the twitter and chirp of songbirds. The middle picture shows the view that I had as the forest abruptly opened up to this seabird rookery. The cliff was covered with birds. I took off my back pack, sat down on the grass, soaking up the solitude and enjoyed the concert provided by the birds and the wind and the waves lapping at the cliff. It was then that I noticed that this cliff top also had at least two dozen tiny, gray puffballs toddling around chirping with tiny peeps as they moved. Why is it, with out a nest to contain them, that these little tumbleweeds don't walk off (or get blown off) the cliff? Honestly, I need an answer to that one. The return trip was uneventful and I climbed back into the truck, stopping at a beautiful beach to have a "bath", before heading to Hall's Harbour.
    So here's the deal with Captain Hall. Not a cool cat. Apparently he was a pirate from New England who came up to the coast of Nova Scotia and found this skinny little harbor(harbour) to tuck his ship into. From there, he and his crew hopped off the boat and helped themselves to whatever they wanted. There are stories of the pillaged treasure being buried and/or hidden for return trips, as well as stories of the full on robbery of the local gardens. It is now an adorable little town with a famous seafood spot right on the inlet where Captain Hall hid. Keep that good karma coming Hall fam. See, I knew being helpful would account for something!
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  • Day 5

    Holy Extreme Tides, Batman!

    June 9, 2018 in Canada ⋅ 🌧 46 °F

    So from Amherst I booked it to Nova Scotia's South Shore. Just a little note: My bear magnet is in full effect! Within 30 minutes of crossing the border I was treated to a big black bear lumbering right out in front of me. Yes, I was in my car, safe and sound. He was spectacular and I am SO grateful for the glimpse. He looked up, freaked out, and ran away. Apparently he is not a fan of middle aged women with braids...
    As I continued on I noticed that this peninsula of Nova Scotia is big enough that each area has its own geography and feel. This south shore was the one area that I missed when I visited last summer. It is all red dirt, rolling hills of farmland and TIDES. Huge, mind-bending tides that leave exposed an ocean floor that is red dirt, too. Cornflower blue skies, cotton white clouds, bright green seedlings, and this brick red dirt. And in concert with this special part of Nova Scotia, I already feel the uniqueness of these people. There is "a thing" that is universal across Nova Scotia. I, personally, have a part of me that wants to help when I see someone with "that look" in their eyes. It might be a look of confusion or discomfort or fear. In any case, I always have an urge to step in and try to assist. I think some people label that as controlling. Those people(who see helping as controlling) should never come to Nova Scotia. It would drive them crazy. Nova Scotians are warm, open, helpful, easy going...need I say more?
    I made it all the way to Scots Bay, to the trail head for Cape Split, where I set up camp for the night. I was up high on a hill above the ocean. The sound of the waves mixed with the wind in the pines. Dark as dark can be. Cold, probably low 40's. And peaceful. I slept like a rock.
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  • Day 5

    Do-Over

    June 9, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 46 °F

    It isn't often that one gets a "do-over" in life. But driving this far north is allowing me to experience spring 2018 all over, again! Fiddleheads, lupine, buds of every configuration combined for that amazing, classic early spring interplay of greens. So many different shades of green! I love this time in spring, before the colors mature into something more uniformly emerald green. Right now there is a variety of hue in every direction. The sky, filled with puffy clouds, obscures the sun creating little patches of shadow. Layers of darkness and light challenges this non-artist, to label them. Labels aside, it is beautiful and fascinating and it fills me with emotions that are a reflection of the layers I see.
    I crossed the border, without incident, and stopped at the information center where I wished that you could hear what I was hearing. As I stepped out of the truck I was greeted simultaneously by the sound of bagpipes and a swarm of mosquitoes. The mosquitoes, as if responding to the music, seemed to dance around me, tugging at my skirt, vying for attention. It didn't work. All I could hear was the bagpiper!
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  • Day 4

    Lubec, ME

    June 8, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ☀️ 59 °F

    I have this image in my head of a race horse, all decked out in colors, glistening a little after a good warm up, fighting at the gate like a two year old being wrestled into the grocery cart by a young, busy Mom. How's that for a mixed metaphor?! At any rate, after a little delay, I'm off. On day 1, I made my way to Lubec, ME. I rolled into town about 7pm, popped into the Lubec Brewing Company where there was a little live music to accompany the dark beer that I tried. It was a mostly local crowd, save for the two woman who were sitting next to me. Their story unfolded between sips of my beer. Apparently, they were life-long, Georgia natives. Friends since kindergarten, who were doing a little road trip. Though honestly, I got the impression that it was a drinking trip that happened to be on a road headed north. Their initial comment to the bartender, "Which of your beers has the highest alcohol content?", was a subtle hint that my impression was accurate. They continued to wonder out loud at how there was so little trash up here, how easy going and friendly people were, and how much people exercised. When she asked what I did for work, her response was, "You've got the best job. PE teachers get to just pull out their lesson plans from last year and go with it. Other teachers need to plan every day". Externally I smiled and mumbled something like, "Huh. That has not quite been my experience.", while internally I was thinking, " And THIS, the viewing of the world through others' eyes, the practice of being open minded to others' opinions, is what makes getting out into the world so fascinating." As I listened and watched the two of them twitter and sip, I finished my drink and then scooted out the door and back down the hill where I climbed into my truck. It was tucked into a side street, overlooking the harbor. I heard a final screech of an eagle and saw the last bit of creamsicle colored sunset as the temperature dropped and put me to sleep. Next stop, Nova Scotia.Read more

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