East Coast 2013 - Day 11

September 9/13 - Cape Ray - Rose Blanche - Port-aux-Basques 

Packing up wet just plain sucks. At least we enjoyed a dry night courtesy of Killdevil Camp, but still had a bit of a mess to pack away the next morning. We dragged everything into the picnic shelter and bagged it all in garbage bags before we hit the road, headed south for the ferry on our last day on The Rock.

The run down the western coast was uneventful, and ironically some of the best weather our entire time on the island.....just as we were leaving. Once again we had booked the midnight crossing, having more to do with when we wanted to arrive in Cape Breton rather than when we wanted to leave. Still, we had the better part of the day left to explore the general vicinity of the ferry terminal in Port-aux-Basques.

We took the opportunity to visit Cape Ray and it's lighthouse at the southwest tip of Newfoundland, and then took the extremely scenic Route 470 east along the south coast to Isle aux Morts and Rose Blanche, one of our favourite little towns in all of Newfoundland.

We returned with some time to spare, and the friendly folks at the Visitor Welcome Centre told us they were closing, but that we were Welcome to set up our tent if we wanted to dry it out before we boarded the ship. We gladly took them up on the offer.....and even borrowed a few nearby rocks temporarily to make sure the tent did not end up across the harbour.

Eventually we drove to the terminal and settled in line to board the MV Highlanders, sister ship to the ferry that brought us over. Even had a nice little chat with the CFIA inspector tasked with making sure we weren't taking any potatoes off the island. Memories, yes. Spuds, no.

Soggy tent

Packed and ready to roll!

Thanks again!

Drying out

The Wreckhouse Wrevisited

Outdoor Reading Room

Cape Ray

Beautiful Decay

Rose Blanche

Rose Blanche, Part Deux

Rose Blanche III

                   A farewell to Newfoundland

MV Highlanders

East Coast 2013 - Day 10

September 8/13 - Gros Morne

The drizzle would not relent, at least not for long. We broke our fast in the picnic shelter, ironically the very same picnic shelter in which we were trapped about ten years ago, when caught in the tail end of Hurricane Gustav. Downed trees had trapped about a dozen of us strangers in the Lomond campground, huddling in the picnic shelter and sharing what provisions we had....until the fine folks at nearby Killdevil Anglican Camp had rescued us, fed us, and gave us cabins to dry out, shower and get some sleep while a crew worked to get the road open.

But I digress. We decided to spend the rainy day driving around, since the weather was not so conducive to hiking or other outdoor pursuits. We drove further up the Route 430 (aka The Viking Trail) as far as Cow Head before turning back to explore Rocky Harbour and Norris Point, including a memorable lunch of fish cakes and homemade soup at the Sunrise Cafe. Jane had already procured the obligatory moose burger the day before in Wiltondale.

Back at camp, we settled in for a damp evening, setting up in the picnic shelter and grabbing some firewood during the sporadic presence of the "park guy". It's that time of year, you takes yer chances. Then again, we had the picnic shelter all to ourselves, so who's complaining? After a delicious dinner of Hamburger Helper, which only tastes nearly so good when we make it camping, we read for a few hours beside a warming fire. The tent was wet but not WET, suggesting a less than comfortable though bearable evening was in store.

Then some guy wandered in from the Killdevil Camp, offering us a cabin if we wanted. It was the same guy from ten years before, and though I remembered him, apparently they rescued people quite regularly from the Lomond campground and we were just not very memorable. The weather was miserable, he noted, and the camp was empty for a few days until the next group came in. He left us to ponder the offer, wondering at our coincidental opportunities a decade apart.

In the end, mainly once darkness fell, the rain intensified and the firewood ran low....we decided what the heck?!?!? Leaving our rapidly flooding tent, we grabbed our bedding and drove the short distance up the road to the camp. One other poor soul had also taken them up on the offer, an older woman from Maine travelling by herself and likewise tenting in Lomond.

This time when we ran into the same guy and advised him that we would very much like to take him up on his generous offer to borrow a cabin for the night, I pulled the name "Malcolm?" from the dark and creepy recesses of my brain. Yes indeed, Malcolm Turner, two times a Saint in our books. Thank you once again, friend.

Breakfast of peameal bacon sandwiches and coffee

Moose 1 - Juke 0

The long and (wet) winding road....

Our view for most of the day

Norris Point lookoff

Along the Viking Trail

Truly a day "for the birds"

Rocky Harbour with Gros Morne Mountain obscured by clouds

A few sticks of wood to take the chill off....

Hamburger Helper(TM), when you need a helping hand!

East Coast 2013 - Day 9

September 7/13 - TCH and Gros Morne

Left Witless Bay in early morning, sadly bidding farewell to our B&B sooner than we would have liked. We headed west on our long trek back across the island, bound for Gros Morne National Park in all it's glory.

Let's talk about moose for a minute, shall we? Yes, Newfoundland's got a LOT of 'em.....some say more moose than people these days. Though not indigenous to the island, the four (count 'em, FOUR) mooseses they introduced from Cape Breton in 1904 apparently liked what they saw....perfect habitat and the absence of natural predators. Mmmmm, yiss b'y.

Actually far fewer fatalities than our last visit!

They take their moose detection quite seriously

See what I mean?

Luckily didn't actually SEE any moose in our eight hour drive westward. No offence to the majestic beasts, but the Juke is not exactly built for interactions with ungulates. After a quick grocery stop in Deer Lake, we wound our way into the rugged hills of Gros Morne, and selected our favourite Lomond campground. With a somewhat damp tent still in a garbage bag from the foggy Harbour Breton pack-up, we got set up by mid-afternoon in the hopes of drying out.....but I sure don't like the looks of those grey clouds rolling down the inlet.....

Gros Morne - Lomond campsite #20

Daisy Juke takes a well-earned rest

The place to ourselves!

Best seats in the house

Airing out the camping equipment

Welcome/Bienvenue!

East Coast 2013 - Day 8.5

September 6/13 - St. John's 

A day so nice, I blogged it twice. After a morning underground on Bell Island, we spent the afternoon in St. John's, one of our favourite cities anywhere. It just has character and a special kind of energy.

Stops included the usual visit to Signal Hill and it's commanding panorama of Cape Spear, The Narrows, and the inner harbour, as well as the quaint village around Quidi Vidi Lake. Here lies a small micrbrewery that makes good beer and has for quite some time, but now markets an Iceberg beer - that's right, they catch icebergs and make beer out of the 25,000-year old fresh water.

We also strolled along Water Street and the waterfront, and had a nice lunch at the Yellow Belly brew pub. I had the Fightin' Irish Red, go figure. Knowing we were pushing the time limits on our parking meter, I actually left Jane to pay the bill (neat trick, huh?) while I hastened back to feed the meter. I passed the Bylaw Enforcement official about two cars after he checked the Juke, with no apparent ticket forthcoming. See below.

We ended the day at a nice B&B in Witless Bay, south from St. John's along the shore, with it's offshore ecological reserve. We even met another couple at the B&B on vacation from Collingwood of all places.

St. John's - one hilly town

Nice place for a beverage and some eats

The (in)famous George Street - pretty quiet in early afternoon

When I got back to check the meter.....

Quidi Vidi Lake

More Quidi Vidi beauty

St. John's from Signal Hill

The Narrows, The Battery and a distant Cape Spear

Sunset over Witless Bay

 A nice way to end the day

East Coast 2013 - Day 8

September 6/13 - Bell Island 

We set off in the morning for Portugal Cove and the ferry to Bell Island, a few kilometers out into Conception Bay. The island was once the world's largest supplier of iron ore, and her harbours even targeted by German U-Boats during World War II. With easier iron found in surface mines in Labrador, Bell Island has been on steady decline since the 1960's.

We drove the roughly ten kilometer length of the Isle, and then we ventured underground into the former #2 Mine, where guided tours take visitors about 700 feet underground. The original mine went much deeper and well out into the Bay and under the ocean, though these depths have long since flooded. Our tour ended abruptly at the water's edge, kinda spooky when that is underground. This mine was the old room and pillar style, and gave me a whole new respect for Tolkien's Moria, especially when they should us the original extent of Bell Island's submarine mines that covered many square miles out under the Bay.

Managed to almost leave Jane behind. We were waiting in line for the ferry to depart the island, and clearly the line was longer than the ferry would hold. As we expected a 40-minute wait for the MV Flanders to cross to Portugal Cove and return, Jane decided to go get some famous fish and chips from Dick's on the Beach. Unbeknownst to us, the MV Beamont Hamel had also returned to service and was loading up within minutes.....meaning Juke had to go (or lose her place in line). The car and I boarded, as I implored the ferrymen that Jane had yet to return from the restaurant.....then I ran back to get Jane as they promised to wait. They waited.

Lance Cove

Candles used to light the mines

But now there are lights

No, not the bat signal.....this is the waterline in the underdeeps....

What's yours is yours....

....and what's mine is ours

Cut it out!

Rough day at the office

 Portugal Cove

A room with a view

Bell Island beach 

 Northern tip of Bell Island

Stunning shoreline

Back to the mainland, er, bigger island

East Coast 2013 - Day 7

September 5/13 - On the Road Again in Newfoundland 

The fog and drizzle stuck around, and by that I mean, clung to everything. We may have slept in the car with dry sleeping bags, but we still had to pack up a soggy tent and air mattress in the morning. The good news was that we had lots of time, as it was far too foggy to even consider leaving town and groping our way back up Route 360.

We waited until it lifted at least a little, and then spent a tense half-hour or so creeping northwards towards the Trans-Canada, until we got far enough inland that the fog finally yielded to the sun. Most of the day was spent cruising eastward under sunny skies along the TCH towards St. John's, with a few strategic stops along the way.

I'm still contemplating the moral repercussions of the planned visit to Come By Chance, but of course we all have our crosses to bear. As expected, Dildo was quite satisfying, though I think they missed a golden opportunity to re-name the neighbouring village of South Dildo to "Come Again" instead. But that's just me.

We ended our day in Paradise. Quite literally.

The town of Gambo under the protective gaze of former Premier Joey Smallwood, the "Father of Confederation"

Sneaky mooseses

Ooops.

The most popular post office in Canada

The vibrant village of Dildo