Newfoundland
This hike in Newfoundland will be a continuation of the hike from Key West to Cap Gaspe’, Quebec. Chuck will begin his hike in Port-aux-Basques (pronounced port-o-bask), Newfoundland following the Appalachian Mountain Range to Belle Isle where the Appalachians fall into the sea. We’re looking forward to visiting many interesting places along the way. We’d love to have you come join us. As with our previous trip, we will have the RV with us and I (Betty) will be providing logistical support as well as some hiking and keeping up the website.
7/8/02 Doyles, Newfoundland
We’re here and it’s beautiful. After taking Susan (our daughter), EJ and the kids to Dulles Airport on July 2nd, for their two year trip to Korea, we headed north. On our way north, we stopped in Freeport, Maine to visit with Dick and Patricia Anderson. Dick is the President of the Maine Chapter of the International Appalachian Trail. We compared notes about the progress of ECT hikers. They also have a daughter-in-law from Newfoundland and were able to give us helpful hints. We spent July 4th at Katahdin Shadows Campground in Maine, where we met up with Judy and Bob Geisler. Judy is hiking the ECT (Eastern Continental Trail) and is on the IAT (International Appalachian Trail) right now. We had a nice visit and continued on our trek the next day. We drove through New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and on the morning of the 7th of July we boarded the ferry from North Sydney, NS arriving six hours later in Channel Port-aux-Basques, NF. We are camped in a beautiful campground in the little village of Doyles. The weather was raining off and on yesterday and today promises to be about the same. The temperature is quite moderate, cool but not cold. Newfoundland reminds me a lot of Norway, the Vikings most likely felt very much at home here. Getting used to the time difference has been the most challenging, since it is 1 1/2 hours difference from EST. There are signs out on the road, in certain areas, advising that there are times when the wind gusts at 200km/h (120 mph). It has actually pushed trains off their tracks. Years ago Lauchie McDougall monitored the wind conditions and would warn trains when the winds were high. Truckers now keep in contact with one another by CB in order to be forewarned of wind conditions. I’m sure we’re going to have some interesting tales to tell as the trek goes on. We’ve heard and read of a number of local delicacies that we will try as the opportunity presents itself.
Chuck started his hike from Port-aux-Basques this morning.
Journal – In Newfoundland – 2002
The following format will be used throughout the journal – beginning point – ending point, date, current days miles, miles since Key West, miles in Newfoundland and number of trail days in Newfoundland.
Port aux Basques, NF to Wreckhouse Site 7/8/02 20/4634/20 Day 1
It is a rainy, foggy morning. The temperature is 51 degrees and only a light breeze. Betty drove me to the water’s edge at Port-aux-Basques at the southwestern tip of Newfoundland. It is here that we will resume our Key West to Canada trek.
Geologists say that the Appalachian Mountains continue northward along the western region of Newfoundland. There is not currently an established trail through the mountains here. We will be following a Rail-to-Trail conversion for about 200 miles then will link existing mountain trails by hiking the roads that connect them. The northern end of the mountains in Newfoundland, called the Long Mountains, is at Belle Isle, about 550 trial miles from here.
From the water’s edge at the docks of Port-aux-Basques it is about a mile hike through the village to the start of the “Wreckhouse Trail”. The old train is on display at a small park at the trailhead. The trail surface is small gravel on top of the old railroad bed. It quickly leads out of town and follows the western coastline along this part of Newfoundland. It is good to be hiking again, especially on such a good trail; the surf crashing into rocky coastline on my left is a bonus. Since this is an old rail line the slopes and curves are gentle.
The terrain is great with the Gulf of St. Lawrence on my left and the Long Mountains on my right. Everything is green. There are dozens of shades of green. Dark green hills covered with small evergreen trees, light green open areas with tall grass and yellowish green tundra like areas that ooze water into small drainage streams.
At one point a beach area along the trail is marked as a protected nesting area for endangered piping plovers. At another point the causeway leading to an old iron trestle has a wide gap to allow tidal flow from a lake. I tried to find a route to rock-hop boulders across the swift stream. Finally, I decided it would be safer to remove my shoes and socks and wade across. I would get a lot of razing if I broke my leg on the first day of a hike driving over three thousand miles to get here.
As it turns out the large, empty paved parking area where Betty and I had planned to meet, was the site of the old Wreckhouse. Lauchie McDougall and his family lived in the wreckhouse for thirty years. He worked for the railroad and would warn them when the winds were strong enough to blow rail cars off the narrow gauge tracks. He died in 1965.*
Fortunately there was only a light breeze today.
Wreckhouse Site to Chignic Lodge 7/9/02 18/4652/38 Day 2
Shortly after starting this morning I met Michael Oesch, a backpacker hiking south toward Port-aux-Basques. He is from Toronto and is hiking around the St Lawrence basin. He has already hiked 1800km along the north side of the seaway in Quebec and Labrador and is now hiking down the south side. He is gathering information for a book he will write.
The morning was great; the Gulf of St Lawrence was smooth on my left and the mountains on the right were now clearly visible. Little patches of snow remain on the northerly slopes near the summits.
About noon conditions began deteriorating. The trailway was no longer smooth but had been recently covered with about 6 inches of rock. The large rocks, ping pong ball to fist size, made walking difficult. My progress slowed from over 3mph to about 2mph. Then it started to rain, a light drizzle continued throughout the day.
The trail moved inland away from the Gulf of St Lawrence. It continued through somewhat stunted forest and scrub growth. Toward the end of the day the trail ran alongside the Codroy River. At this point the Codroy is wide, shallow and fast moving. The many rapids and rocks made for a picturesque setting.
The rocky surface not only makes for difficult walking, but it also is pounding my feet. The finish at Chignic Lodge did not come too soon. Betty had left word at the Lodge that she would be back later. What a good place to wait. Over a cold beer, I talked with the two waitresses about the history of this area. Betty soon joined us and we talked about everything from high winds to moose and caribou to a local couple’s 50th Wedding Anniversary which will be celebrated this coming Saturday night at the Lodge.
Betty: I thought that the high wind was a certain time of the year, so asked what time of the year they had problems with high wind, only to be told – all times of the year.
Last Friday the winds were so high that the traffic couldn’t move for part of the day and also the ferry couldn’t get in to dock. When that happens the ferry goes around to a safe harbour and waits until they can get in to dock. While we’ve been here the mornings and evenings have been calm, but the afternoon we have winds that buffet the car as you’re driving along. Reports are that everyone listens to the radio if they are concerned about the wind and the radio will warn travelers to get off the road. Oh, great!! The good news is there is only one really bad place and we are past it.
Chignic Lodge to Codroy Pond (TCH#1) 7/10/02 21/4673/59 Day 3
It rained hard last night but stopped by morning. There is thick fog (some say it is partially smoke from the wild fires in Quebec). The miles go by quickly. The trail has moved away from the coast and is in thick forest and underbrush. The trees are small, only a few are over 25ft and most are about 15ft, all are evergreen, both spruce and fir. The expansive views that I enjoyed while close to the Gulf of St Lawrence are gone and the trail is in a narrow green corridor. Occasionally, it passes a lake or a stream for a chance to peep outside the old railroad right of way.
The railroad bridge across the North Branch of Codroy River is closed due to collapsing piers and twisted iron stringers. The first section of the bridge has been removed to prevent usage. This puts the bridge treadway about 20ft above ground level. It is immediately obvious that hikers continue to use it. I followed a little path through the weeds to some poles that had been propped up against a concrete support. It was an easy scramble up, then just a matter of stepping across the gaps between the ties. This trail needed a little diversity, hiking long straight stretches was getting old.
I arrived at the point Betty and I had agreed to meet, but I was about 2 hours early. I left a few feet of surveyor’s tape to let Betty know that I had been there and continued on along the trail. Eventually I got onto the Trans-Canada Highway adjacent to Codroy Pond. I then hiked along the road so Betty would not miss seeing me. She found me and whisked me away to a cold beer at Chignic Lodge and another chat with Rita MacKiavaak, she is part of the family team that runs the lodge. We met Rita and her sister-in-law, Bonnie, yesterday afternoon. Then after a shower we drove to a little restaurant called Silver Sands, it was good.
Betty: Tomorrow we will be leaving this RV park. The Grand Codroy RV Camping Park has been wonderful. Once we leave here I don’t know how often I will find places to update the website. If you are planning a trip to Newfoundland, you’ll enjoy this park.
Zero Day at Grand Codroy Campground 7/11/02 21/4673/59 Day 4
We took a day of rest today thinking that we would catch up on some chores and do some sightseeing. After catching up on correspondence, making some equipment modifications and repairs, it was raining and cool so we stayed close to the campground.
Mid-afternoon, the campground owner delivered our package of mail to our door. Betty calculates where we will be in about ten days and has our mail forwarding service send all the mail they have been holding. It has been about two weeks since we had the last shipment. Now we have a new stack of stuff to work on.
Betty made some great pizza and we watched a video of the movie “A Beautiful Mind”. It was a good day, a good meal, a good movie and now good night.
Codroy Pond to St. Fintan’s 7/12/02 12/4685/71 Day 5
After five days at Grand Codroy Campground, we departed about 8AM and moved north about 40 miles to a wide spot along the Trans-Canada Highway. Actually, it is a wide paved parking area. Five RVs were here when we pulled in and as one pulled out we took his spot. By afternoon we were the only ones here.
Betty dropped me off along the highway where she picked me up late yesterday. There were fresh moose tracks under the car and along the road for several hundred feet. Within about a quarter of a mile I was able to go down the steep bank and get back on the trail. At this point the old railroad bed takes a different route than the highway, heading more westerly through the hills.
It was a great day to hike, in the seventies with the sun shining. The trail passed through rolling terrain and sometimes was cut into the sides of hills with a steep bank towering on one side and a drop of several hundred feet on the other. There were lots of beaver dams and stumps with conical tops showing that the beaver population had been busy as you know what.
It is spring in Newfoundland and the sides of the trail are often covered with a blanket of flowers in full bloom. There are daisies and about six kinds of yellow flowers, quite nice.
The trail, having been converted from an old railroad, is wider than most trails. It has two tracks and is a multi-purpose recreational route. Each day I have seen three or four “4-wheelers” (ATVs). The drivers have always been very courteous, slowing as they pass and sometimes stopping to ask if I need anything or just chat for a few minutes. Most travel in groups of 2-4 vehicles, often a family, or two or three ATVs with a couple on each vehicle. Helmets must be required here because all drivers and passengers wear them. They must also be required to have good muffler systems because they seem to be much quieter than those that have terrorized us in Florida. The only really adverse impacts that I have seen are: a bit more trash along the trail and sometimes tracks off to the side where some “cowboys” have cut up soft terrain. This trail is used by hunters in the fall and fishermen during the appropriate seasons. Locals have told me that snowmobile traffic is heavy after the first good snowfall. So far, I have only seen one couple that was biking on the trail; it is almost too rocky to easily ride a bicycle on about half of the trail. Also, I have only met one other hiker so I pretty much have the trail to myself. Every five to ten miles it crosses a road and has crossed the TCH (Trans-Canada Highway) twice. The trail is actually paralleling the TCH but is sometimes over five miles from it.
Early this afternoon, I saw a tractor on the trail heading toward me. Louis King, an 83 year old WWII vet, stopped to talk a while. He was on his way to tend his fields. Years ago he could hitch a ride out on a “work train”, but now he is allowed to use the trail to access his fields. He was going to plow the weeds out of his “spud field”. Other fields have turnips and beets, he no longer plants cabbage – the moose eat them faster than he can plant them. A volunteer in the Royal Navy during “the war”, he saw action in Africa and the South Atlantic. Twenty-three Newfies were in his unit and he and two others are all that are left. He seemed to be a fit, strong man for his age. He said the “girls” all guessed that he was in his sixties. As we departed in different directions, he said he liked to work until after dark but that when he did someone would come out to see if he was alright.
A few miles later, Betty was waiting for me near a country store in the very small village of St Fintan’s. While exploring the possible pick-up locations for tomorrow we found the tiny fishing community (no stores) of Fishells, on St George’s Bay.
After a shower and a cold beer at our very own wide spot in the road, we had dinner at a roadhouse called Helena’s Diner. It was a good day.
St Fintan’s to North of Heatherton 7/13/02 12/4697/83 Day 6
It was a great morning to be hiking, the sun was shining, the sky clear and it was a little cool, maybe low sixties. Today I crossed four railroad bridges, all were the same with metal stringers and open crossties. They are about 25 feet above the rivers they cross. The gaps between the ties are about 10″-18″ wide. A person probably couldn’t fall through if they tried, however, a broken leg is a possibility. The bridge crossings require attention to foot placement so if I want to look around I usually stop, check the sites, maybe take a photo then move on.
There was about a three mile stretch of trail that had just recently been covered with rock. It is almost like walking through water or mud in that it takes more effort and it slows progress. The feet don’t get wet but they do get beat up after a few miles.
Just after plowing through the fresh rock, I was clipping along in the middle of no place and there was Betty, right where we had planned to meet. She was in the car with the windows closed because the mosquitoes and black flies were a bit of a nuisance. I also found they would attack if I stopped moving, a real motivator.
Betty: Nuisance is an understatement!!
East of Heatherton to St George’s 7/14/02 21/4718/104 Day 7
Yesterday, Betty moved the RV from our “wide spot in the road” to an Irving Gas Station with a large gravel parking area. She asked the management if we could park in their lot and they said of course, anyplace you want. We have had a couple of trucker neighbors off and on but it has been very quiet for a truck stop.
Betty had me on the trail by 7:50 this morning. The terrain was wonderful, rolling hills, streams with rapids and lots of lakes. The railroad bridge over Journois Brook has been destroyed by fire, it was an easy rock hop over the shallow stream.
On a quiet lake, swimming toward me, were two common loons (that’s the “Gavia immer” variety not to be confused with many of the common loons we have seen in more urban areas). I watched them feeding about a hundred feet away, for several minutes. As I walked away they gave their haunting wail every few seconds.
The trestle across Flat Bay Brook may have been the highest and longest yet. It must have been at least 40 feet high, maybe 50 and it was about 300 feet long.
The miles passed quickly and I arrived at our meeting point over two hours early. After jotting a note to Betty, I tied it to a bush with some fuchsia colored surveyor tape (our standard color) and headed to the next road crossing seven miles away.
For some unknown reason, the railroad grade across a shallow grassy lake had been partially removed and the trail was in calf deep water for about 200 feet. The trail bed was still crushed rock even under the water so that four-wheelers could cross. Since I did not want to walk barefoot on the rather edgy gravel, I waded through wearing my low cut hiking boots. Then, on the far shore, stopped to wring out my socks and empty the boots.
Upon arriving at the outskirts of St George’s, the revised place that I told Betty we would meet, I was unsure of which road or street crossing was the correct one. As I pondered the map, I could see a person on the trail almost a mile away. It was Betty hiking out to meet me. After linking up, we were hiking back to the car but could not get by the St George’s Lounge. It was a typical local small town watering hole. I’ve been developing a kinship with Newfoundland’s Dominion Ale and Betty settled for LaBatts Blue.
St George’s to Black Duck Siding 7/15/02 16/4734/120 Day 8
We have been dry camping (no water, sewer, electric) for two nights at the Irving Truck Stop and we dry camped one night at the “wide spot”. In only three nights we have used all of our fresh water supply. Our tank holds 80 gallons and it was nearly full when we left Grand Codroy Campground. Usually, that will easily last us five to seven days. In retrospect our water use has increased for a couple of reasons: while hiking, I hand wash my clothes each evening so the sweaty things don’t pile up and the blackflies tend to root into our hair so they get a thorough shampooing with each evening shower. So, today while I’m hiking Betty will come up with a plan to dump our tanks and take on water.
It was another early start and great weather for hiking. The first ten miles were through forests and across rivers, then along a bluff overlooking the beach and St George’s Bay (which opens into the Gulf of St Lawrence). There is a long trestle with a high iron superstructure across St George’s River as the trail enters town. As Betty was driving through Stephensville Crossing, she liked the looks of it and parked north of town and hiked back to meet me. We hiked through town together. At one point we stopped to talk with Frank, a retired wood cutter. He told of working and camping in the forested mountains of Newfoundland.
When we hiked by the car, Betty drove off to do some errands and would meet me a couple hours later in Black Duck Siding. By this time I was getting too much of a great day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the hot sun made trudging through more thick crushed rock a very sweaty undertaking.
After Betty picked me up at the small village of Black Duck, we moved the RV northward to Barachois Pond Provincial Park. It is a beautiful setting, the pond is about a half mile across and a couple of miles long. Mount Erin, across the pond, is just over one thousand feet high. Their campsites do not have hook-ups, but they have a dump station and a fresh water point near the entrance.
The first few minutes we were outside, we saw a Baltimore Oriole, a Red-breasted Nuthatch and a Black Throated Green Warbler. We immediately decided that we like this place and Betty made reservations for two nights.
7/16/02 Thanks to the ladies at the Stephensville Library for letting me update the website.
Black Duck Siding to Gallants 7/16/02 14/4748/134 Day 9
This morning we said good-bye to our camping neighbors, Leo and Sandra from British Columbia. Leo recently retired from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and they have been traveling throughout Canada. I was disappointed to learn that the Mounties are no longer mounted. He said they stopped training with horses several years ago and now the RCMP’s only have a few horses for ceremonies.
About three miles down the trail, I found five four-wheelers (ATVs) parked next to a couple of tents. Four guys and a woman were driving their four-wheelers on a trip of about 500 miles from the ferry at Port-aux-Basques to the ferry at St John’s. They told me all about their machines and how they prepared for the trip. John Ross and his wife were excited about the adventure and John took our email address and will let us know when they finish. All five are from Nova Scotia.
After Betty picked me up, just past Gallants, we went back to the Provincial Park for a bike ride. Then we grilled burgers over a campfire. Another good day.
Gallants to Spruce Brook 7/17/02 4/4752/138 Day 10
We planned a very short day today. A four mile hike to Spruce Brook gets us to a departure point for a twenty plus mile crossing with no entry points. Our maps are the pits. We have been using a Newfoundland road map that has a general trace of the Trans-Canada Trail (TCT) on it. The TCT map that I have is the same small scale but does not have many of the roads that Betty needs to use. There are times when we both are frustrated by not having topographic maps with sufficient detail. The result of poor maps is that distances on the trail between points is mostly guesswork. Also, sometimes finding the pick-up points is trial and error. Betty generally drives ahead to the next day’s pick-up point to insure that she can find it and drive to it.
Today we departed Barachois Provincial Park and left the RV near an access road that would get us into the trail. After the short hike, we drove the RV to the town of Corner Brook, parked in a shopping center and had McLobster sandwiches at a McDonalds.
Corner Brook is the largest town we have been in since entering Newfoundland. At 21,900 people it is the second largest town in Newfoundland. It is a sawmill town and has been since the mill was built in 1894. Captain James Cook explored this area and camp up the Humber River on which the town is located. This river is supposedly world famous for its salmon.
We reconned tomorrow’s pick-up point and some of the route through Corner Brook for the day after tomorrow. All the driving around, dead-ends, stopping to ask local folks about the trail and then remembering which route was best is tedious to say the very least. I’m glad I’m doing the hiking, I don’t know if I can handle many more of these low mileage days.
We moved the RV to George’s RV Park just north of Corner Brook. We’ve noticed, both here and two years ago in Quebec on the Gaspe’ peninsula, that these remote campgrounds have fewer amenities. The last campground had no utility hook-ups and this one has very low water pressure and a weak 20 amp electrical service. This is not really an inconvenience but just an observation. It sure beats a tent on a rainy night like tonight.
Spruce Brook to Mount Moriah 7/18/02 18/4770/156 Day 11
As Betty drove me to our start point, there was heavy fog. Soon there was a light rain. Betty said it looked like a good “moose day”. Even though we have seen lots of tracks and droppings, we have yet to see a moose in Newfoundland.
We were not sure of the distance of today’s hike. I had heard that it was about 25 miles across an interesting stretch of roadless wilderness. About two hours after starting, I spotted a cow moose on the far side of a small lake. As I continued toward the end of the lake, it wandered up a swampy valley and disappeared in the thick forest. This moose was very dark, almost black, and looked like a large horse from a distance.
The light rain continued throughout the day. Early in the afternoon a fox stepped onto the trail and walked directly toward me. I stood still and it did not sense me until it was about 15 feet from me. I snapped a couple of pictures, hope they are focused. It was a silver fox, black with a silver tint and a white tip on its tail.
At the end of the day’s hike (it was only about 18 miles), Betty was waiting. We drove to a sporting goods store to find better maps. The rain continues.
Mount Moriah to Steady Brook 7/19/02 14/4784/170 Day 12
This morning I was on the trail at 6:45am. Betty needed to have the CRV at the Corner Brook Honda service center before 8am for an oil change.
What a great morning! The rain stopped during the night and a beautiful sun was rising over Humber Arm, the bay formed as the Humber River flows into the sea. Mount Moriah is high on a ridge that looks down on Humber Arm and the neat little city of Corner Brook.
The old railroad bed snaked its way through the outskirts of Corner Brook, going unobtrusively through residential areas and slowly descending off the ridge to the water’s edge. In days of old, all railroads in this area led to the Corner Brook Mill, now operated by the Corner Brook Pulp and Paper (CBPP). They are still the major industry here, employing about 1500 people. After passing the mill, I walked along the Humber River and past the high cliffs of Breakfast Mountain with the “Old Man of the Mountain”. Early travelers would row upstream and stop for breakfast at this mountain. Supposedly, the face like rock formation of the “Old Man” looked down on the travelers and protected them. I hope he saw me. At this point the Trans-Canada Hiway has been constructed on top of the old railroad bed. As I hiked along the highway a convertible pulled to the side just ahead of me and asked if I was from Florida and if my name was Wilson. It was Bob Diamond a leader in the local trail club. Betty had gotten his phone number yesterday and I left a message for him last night.. He guessed right when he saw me. He took me to his home which was only a couple of miles away. It was a frenzy of trail talk about local hiking trails, their efforts to establish a “thru-trail” in Newfoundland and about my hike. We decided to meet at a local restaurant for dinner and Bob made some calls to invite other club members. He then deposited me back along the hiway exactly where he had gotten me a couple hours earlier. I ended the day’s hike when I got to our campground. Since we still had several hours before dinner, I drove to the regional forestry office that I had seen from the highway. While there, Glenn Thistle, a forester, told me about their reforestation program. He also explained local timber harvesting methods and how local residents could get permits to cut timber for personal use. Glenn was a fountain of information. It was a very worthwhile visit.
Betty and I were a half-hour early at the Amore’ Restaurant. Soon Arne Helgeland and Rose arrived, then Bud Hiscock. Bob Diamond and Terry, and Bob Day made the group complete. We had great conversation during dinner then we walked a mile or so on a new wooded trail that has recently been built right in the heart of Corner Brook. Those in our group knew almost everyone we met on this pleasant little trail. It was a very enjoyable stroll during the extended twilight that the north country enjoys in summer. Bud invited us to his home as we walked nearby. It was a beautiful, older house in a neighborhood that, for years, has included many of the mill executives. The wonderful stories and discussions and laughs went on till nearly midnight. We found that even though we live nearly 5000 miles from these folks we have much in common with them. Oh yes, Arne was born in Norway so he and Betty struck it off well. I held off on the Norwegian jokes, maybe when we know him better. Before we left, Arne, the president of the Sou’Wester Hiking Club, and Bob Diamond invited us to speak about our trip at their Hiking Festival in August.
It has been a very special day.
Betty: It sure has been and we’re really looking forward to spending more time with these wonderful folks in a few weeks.
Steady Brook to 5 miles north of Pasadena 7/20/02 18/4802/188 Day 13
It was a slow start after a late night. We moved the RV to Bill’s Trailer Park in Pasadena. Betty took me back to Steady Brook to start hiking, then she drove into Corner Brook to get some supplies.
As I started hiking along the Trans-Canada Hiway, it was only misting rain but within the hour it was a cold downpour. A rain jacket protected my upper-half but the nylon hiking shorts didn’t do much for the lower-half. Of course, large tractor trailers provide occasional cold showers spiced with road grit. At the 13 mile point I hiked by our rig parked at its new home. I stopped in to dry out and rest. Then, when the rain stopped, I knocked out another five miles. Betty chased me down and brought me back for a great supper of cod cheeks, a local delicacy, broccoli and potatoes.
Betty: When you read this it will be with our thanks to Bruce and Cheryl at Bill’s Tourist RV Camp. We’ve had a wonderful stay here.
Pynn’s Brook (5 miles north of Pasadena) to White Hills Convenience Store 7/21/02 20/4822/208 Day 14
A wonderful morning with clear skies; the miles clocked by easily. As I blitzed through the town of Deer lake at almost 3mph, I stopped to talk with a couple of cyclists who were having lunch at a picnic table. Renata and Ben are riding mountain bikes (hybrids) from St Anthony (near our destination) to Port-aux-Basques. This interesting young couple, from BC, bicycled completely across Canada last year. They are now studying at the University in Corner Brook.
From Deer Lake northward the route is called the “Viking Trail”. It passes some ancient sites with evidence of old Norse settlements including L’Anse aux Meadows at the northern tip of the Northern Peninsula. Newfoundland is now celebrating the 1000th anniversary of the Viking arrival and the 500th anniversary of Captain John Cabot’s rediscovery of the New Found Land.
This evening, Betty had arranged for us to go to a small dinner theater back in Corner Brook. It was held above the Canadian Legion Hall. We arrived early and asked the barkeep in the Legion Hall if he had drink for two weary foreign travelers. I told him we were members of the American Legion and while we were looking at the WWI and WWII pictures on the walls, their steward presented us with the Crown’s Legion lapel pins and a keyfob.
As we were having dinner upstairs, Betty overheard those at the table behind us ridiculing Americans in general. We have heard a bit of US bashing on some of the radio stations but this was the first time we had actually experienced it. It detracted from a great evening and so many other good experiences in Corner Brook and Newfoundland.
The meal was good and the performance was entertaining, educational and interesting. The actors were from the local university and they did a series of skits and songs depicting the fascinating history of Newfoundland.
During intermission, I stepped outside for some fresh air and, on my way back in, it seemed that I had just enough time for an ale. While paying for my drink I met Peggy who was also attending the performance upstairs. While chatting, she told me of her husband’s experience in WWII and introduced me to him when we returned. John Vink, as a young dutchman, was sent to a Nazi workcamp in Germany. He eventually escaped and evaded his way back to Utrecht, Netherlands. There, he hid out for two years as part of the Dutch Resistance. After the performance, John told his story in such a clear riveting manner that we felt as if we too had been there. While we talked with John, Peggy played some American tunes on the Legion’s piano.
Betty: At the dinner theater I had a chance to visit with Jocelyn and Terry. What a small world, it turns out that Jocelyn is Bud’s sister-in-law. Bud is one of the hikers we went to dinner with on the 19th.
Now, before anyone writes to say that Canadians are also Americans – you’re right, however, it has been our experience, here, that when people say Americans – it’s people from the US and when they say Canadians – you guessed it. As for the incident – well, we have our share of folks like that in the states too.
Today while I was scouting ahead I saw a moose along the road. There were a couple of cars pulled over taking pictures and, of course, I joined them. It gets to be a bit of a hazard with everyone pulling off the road, but we all want pictures. By the time I left there were about eight cars pulled over enjoying the opportunity.
White Hills Convenience to Inside Gros Morne National Park (17 miles south of Rocky Harbour) 7/22/02 15/4837/223 Day 15
We moved the RV forward to the gravel parking lot in front of White Hills Convenience store and I started hiking. When the store opened, Betty would ask if she could stay parked there until the afternoon.
The “Viking Trail” leads right through Gros Morne (translation: Big Gloomy) National Park and the hills increase in size. I saw a little sign that marked the northern limit for yellow birch, red maple, black ash, trembling aspen and white pine. They only grow this far north here because of the rock soil and the sheltering hills around Bonne Bay. There is almost no original growth timber here, it was commercially logged between 1920 and the early 1950’s. It has recovered well.
Betty picked me up and we returned to drive the RV to Rocky Harbour. We saw a cow moose along the road as we drove back through these low mountains. The little town of Rocky Harbour is on the north shore of Bonne Bay as it enters the Gulf of St Lawrence.
Betty: Rocky Harbour is a neat little town. I did some looking around today and found some neat little shops. One shop that really caught my eye was a gift/craft shop that had a sign outside that said “Check your email”. I went in to see what the possibilities were and sure enough – I can plug in my computer and update the website. There were also some beautiful watercolors done by a local (Newfoundland) artist, which I would like to buy. I’ve made arrangements for three more theater performances. One is in the little community of Cow Head and the other two are on the north end of the peninsula.
Inside Gros Morne National Park to Rocky Harbour 7/23/02 17/4854/240 Day 16
The wind kicked up at about 2am with gusts that shook the RV rather violently. We scurried about stowing items left outside and battening the hatches indoors. It was still breezy when Betty put me on the trail this morning. The scenery is great, with the route rolling around lakes at the base of the mountains in Gros Morne National Park. Some of the bays are connected to Bonne Bay and are tidal.
A retired commercial fisherman and his wife were waiting for low tide so they could gather mussels. Joshua Reed told me that these waters were severely overfished years ago and the island’s fishing industry (mostly cod and salmon) collapsed. It is now only a fraction of what it was 25 years ago. He said the salmon here are “Atlantic Salmon” and they return year after year, not dying each trip up the river like the salmon in British Columbia and Alaska. He was upset that the limit for catching salmon here is now only four per season per person, but when the salmon return to the ocean they migrate by Iceland where they are netted by the ton.
On a lighter note, Joshua asked if I had tried “Screech”, the Newfoundland liquor. When I said that I had only had a taste, he proceeded to tell me all about it. As far back as the early 1800’s black rum (maybe what we call dark rum) was shipped from the West Indies to St. John’s, Newfoundland in large oak casks or barrels. There it was bottled and distributed throughout the island. Supposedly, it got its name because that is the first reaction after having a shot of it. He said it is standard practice to sell the empty oak barrels and the buyer would pour in a few liters of water and splash it around inside each day leaving a different part of the key down each time. After a few weeks they pour this into bottles for later use and is then called “Swish”.
Since I am now hiking along a road, it is easy for Betty to find me. Today she buzzed out with lunch and found a beautiful spot right on the coast of Bonne Bay, which is a fjord.
After dinner at the rig, we drove to the National Park Visitors Center for a presentation about how glaciers formed this park and most of the island about 12,000 years ago. Then we drove out to the Lobster Cove Lighthouse and still got home before dark, about 9:30pm. Just in time to appreciate the Screech.
Rocky Harbour to Western Brook Picnic Area 7/24/02 20/3874/260 Day 17
We moved the RV forward to the parking area for the Western Brook boat tour here in Gros Morne Park. A thick fog covered this sea coast road and completely obscured the mountains east of us. The plan is for Betty to drive me back to Rocky Harbour to start hiking, then she will return to Western Brook for the world renowned boat tour. This three hour boat ride goes through what used to be fjords, but now are lakes and are no longer tidal. I will hike the 17 miles to the RV and wait for Betty to get back. It was a good day for hiking, cool with a breeze. The fog and light rain cleared by noon and it was beautiful. The coastal road is on a plateau about one hundred feet above the sometimes sandy, sometimes rocky shore. Waves crashing on the left and the Long Range Mountains on the right make for an ideal setting.
When I arrived at the RV it was blocked in with tightly parked vehicles on all sides. I rested and when Betty got back I decided to hike a couple of miles until the parking lot cleared.
After hiking three miles I came to a caribou in the middle of the road. Traffic began to stop as the young caribou grazed along the side of the road. While there, Betty drove up in the car to get me and she went crazy taking pictures of the first caribou we have seen in Newfoundland.
We retrieved the RV and drove ahead to a service station, motel, restaurant complex. Previously Betty had been told that we could park in the rear of the building. We did. Later, Rex Hutchings, an employee there, we think, showed us a better place to park in a forested area near a lake with the mountains in the background.
Later, just as I was getting comfortable with a shot of Screech, Rex drove by to see if all was well. I invited him and his wife, Eileen, in to see the RV. Rex smiled approvingly when he saw the Screech bottle on the table. The four of us had a taste of Schreech while Rex and Eileen told us about this area and about their kids and grandkids. As they left they invited us to drop by their house in Cow Head tomorrow so they could return the favor.
Betty: The Western Brook boat trip was wonderful. No wonder it is so popular. The walk into the boat dock took about 40 minutes. There were three limestone conglomerates that we hiked over. They were dry and had trees and wildflowers. In between each of these was a bog. Boardwalks were built over the bogs. It was an interesting walk. Once on the boat, we traveled through deep chasms. Our boat was dwarfed by the majestic mountain walls. While on the boat tour we saw a moose and a bald eagle. Our guide told us all about the glaciers that had carved this beautiful area. We were also told that the park doesn’t allow canoeing or kayaking in this lake because the water can be smooth one minute and turn violent a few minutes later.
There are a few popular traverses (hikes) within the Gros Morne Park. When our boat reached its furthest easterly point, we pulled up to a wood dock and two hikers departed on one of the traverses. The number of hikers is closely controlled on each of the traverses. Our guide said from this point they dropped about 380 hikers last year. There are trails and no marks, so when you go on one of these you have to have excellent navigating and compass skills.
I’d love to put some pictures on the website. I’ve taken a bunch of digital pictures, but can’t get my camera and computer to work together. I’ll keep trying!!!
Western Brook Picnic Area to about 2 miles north of Parson’s Pond 7/25/02 20/4894/280 Day 18
This may be the most idyllic campsite we have ever enjoyed. A full moon reflected off the lake below us and we could see the sheer cliffs of the Long Range Mountains in Gros Morne National Park on the far side. It was absolutely still, I hoped that the coyote I had seen earlier would howl – but not. Then, about 5am sunlight was bouncing off the lake and into the bedroom window. As we pulled out, we were told that three caribou were swimming in the adjacent lake. Betty later got some long distance photos of them.
On the drive to the start point we saw a young bull moose cross the road in front of us. The day’s hike was mostly along Highway 430, the Viking Trail. However, at times there would be small gravel or grass roadways closer to the coast line and parallel to the highway. These little paths are a real delight, they are often on the edge of the bluff overlooking the rocky shore.
During a break at a scenic rest area, I met a young couple who were bicycling to L’Anse aux Meadows. Fong and Lubo, a young Chinese lady and her Czech husband are from Toronto and having a great time.
Betty picked me up a couple miles north of Parson’s Pond and whisked me back to yet another dry camp in a seemingly miniature forest, the trees, mostly evergreens, are only about 15 feet tall. She whipped up a great spaghetti dinner complete with garlic toast, wine and a salad.
2 miles north of Parson’s Pond to Bellburns 7/26/02 22/4916/302 Day 19
It was a beautiful but long hike today, almost always overlooking the rocky seashore. The Long Range Mountains continue just east of us. The tree line is only a couple hundred feet up from their base, so the top portion of the range is smooth and treeless.
Tonight we returned to the little town of Cow Head to see a play called “The Maritime Way of Life”. It was forgettable. On the way back to our dry camp we saw the reflection of eyes in the headlights as two moose crossed in front of us.
7/27/02 Betty: This morning we moved to a Torrent River campground in Hawke’s Bay . We had reservations in Portland Creek, but they lost our reservation. That was unfortunate, because that’s where I had my mail all forwarded. Oh well, the folks here are so nice that the campground said they would hold it when it came in and also the postal lady said she would watch for it and if she saw it before it got to the campground, she would hold it – so I’ll drive back down when it gets in. On a happy note, we were already a little north of there, so it was probably for the best. We are in an overflow at Hawke’s Bay, but we have electric and water – so that’s wonderful! We also have a beautiful view of a pond in front of us and the sea out to the side.
I wanted to tell you all one of the interesting things about Newfoundland, and maybe the rest of Canada, but I’ve noticed it most here. There are almost no rules. They have a helmet rule, a seatbelt rule and gun rules, but other than those you don’t see rules posted anywhere. There are no signs around saying you can’t park here or there, there are no lists of rules when you check into a campground. It’s really refreshing!!
Chuck got a late start hiking today, but probably for the best since he has some blisters. I’m washing clothes and Levi. Tonight we’re going out to dinner at a wonderful looking restaurant that we passed on the way through town.
Wish you were here!!!
Bellburns to 2 mi south of River of Ponds 7/27/02 16/4932/318 Day 20
It is another good weather day, sunny and cool. We’ve had a 10-20 mph quartering tailwind for the past few days. I have seen what I think is a gyrfalcon on two occasions.
Walking on and along side the road for the past several days is giving my feet a beating. I’ve noticed this previously on long roadwalks. Rotating to different footgear each day hasn’t helped much. I may try slowing my hiking pace. It has been over 3 1/2 mph which is pretty fast for long distance hiking but on roads is done easily. Today I’ll try slowing to about 2 1/2 mph which is about the rate I manage on trails.
2 miles south of River of Ponds to Hawke’s Bay 7/28/02 14/4946/332 Day 21
The good weather continues. We saw a bull moose along side the road as Betty drove me to the start point. Today I tried wearing my leather hiking boots, this is the first time I’ve had them on since we were hiking on the Gasp* Peninsula, in Quebec, a year and a half ago. After about ten miles I switched into Teva sandals with socks and did the last four miles into Hawke’s Bay.
As I hiked into town, two boys in their mid-teens stopped me to ask lots of questions. D.J. and Jeremy were full of curiosity and enthusiasm. They told me about the local music festival and that they had friends who played in one of the bands.
Newfoundlanders love music, they have their own style that seems similar to the country music we had forty years ago but with an Irish influence to it. Most of the songs tell a story, often of life in Newfoundland or on the sea. One of the reasons I like it is that the words can be heard and understood.
Tomorrow, we plan to give the feet a break and see some of the local sites. We’ll go to Port au Choix (pronounce porto-schwa) National Historic Site. They have archeological evidence there of Maritime Archaic Indians who lived here over 5,000 years ago.
No Hiking Today
7/29/02 0/4946/332 Day 22
We took a day off, no hiking. This morning we did a few chores around the RV and in the afternoon went to the Canadian National Historic Site of Port au Choix. This site is only a 30 minute drive from our campsite in Hawke’s Bay.
The little peninsula of land, mostly high beach, probably not over 30 feet above sea level, has been home to six different cultures during the last 5,000 years. Starting with the Maritime Archaic Indians, then two different types of Eskimos cultures, recent (last 500 years) Indians, French and finally English. All had one common trait, they lived off the rich bounty of the sea. Fish, shrimp, lobster, crab, whales, and most importantly seals have been readily abundant. Interestingly, evidence of all these cultures has been reasonably well preserved in the soil.
After spending the entire afternoon browsing through the displays, we went out on the beach in hopes of spotting a whale – not!
Hawke’s Bay to Eddies Cove West 7/30/02 14/4960/346 Day 23
First thing this morning we topped off our fresh water tank and dumped our holding tanks in preparation for a few days of dry camping. We then moved the RV to the very small community of Barr’d Harbour (not to be confused with Bar Harbor). The best we can tell there may only be two houses that are still inhabited. A few other houses and buildings are scattered over about ten acres along St. John Bay. They have a short, but well constructed, rock coffin (revetted rock) pier but no boats afloat. A few small fishing boats are deteriorating on the weeded shore. There are no stores, although we parked next to what might have been a general store in years past. The weather has scoured any paint that might have been on the wood siding and all the window glass is either broken or missing. Betty asked Mrs. Chambers, an elderly resident, who we should ask for permission to park here for a couple of days. She said she would give us permission, so here we are. Mrs. Chambers lives in a very well kept house, freshly painted white with lots of dark brown trim. Later, Betty found that all the electric power for this little place, comes from a small central generator.
About five miles after starting the day’s hike, a pick-up truck with two province road workers stopped to talk. They asked about the hike and gave me a little insight into the local area. Then, abruptly, they said the “super” was driving up to a job site just down the road and they had to go.
The “Twin Towns” of Port Saunders and Port au Choix are about five miles off the main (only) highway. In order to interest travelers in their towns, they have an information booth along the highway. It consists of a retired cod-fishing boat that has been converted to an office with displays but it still looks like a boat sitting on land at the junction of the road to their towns. George Raymond is the young landlocked skipper. He explained that the cod were severely overfished in all of these waters and a moratorium was placed on all cod fishing about ten years ago and it is still in effect. He asked if it snowed where I lived, when I said no, he proudly told me that snow had drifted completely over this fishing boat last winter (the boat must be at least ten feet high). He grinned, telling me that a “skidoo” (snowmobile) did not know the boat was under the snow and accidently ran a ski through the boat’s cabin wall near the ceiling. We inspected the damage.
About 11am it started drizzling rain and it continued, off and on, throughout the day. During these conditions, I try to get as far over on the shoulder as I can and still hike at a reasonable pace. When oncoming traffic passes, I usually turn away from the road to avoid the splash and spray. As one car approached, it honked and quickly slowed to a stop. It was Fung and Lubo, the energetic young couple who were cycling to L’Anse aux Meadows. They passed me on their way north about five days ago. They had that look of satisfaction from having completed a physically challenging adventure. Now in a rented car, they were on their way home to Toronto. It was good seeing them again, it reminded me of the Appalachian Trail where hikers are constantly meeting others they have seen days, weeks or months earlier.
Later, Betty overtook me, she had driven south to Portland Creek to pick up our mail. After checking on me, she agreed to return about 2pm and take me to a dry place.
Hiking along the road in the rain has some advantages. Lots of people wave as they go by and some drivers honk. Two vehicles even stopped to offer me a ride. One of these was the pick-up truck with the two road workers.
Oh yes, Betty and I saw two moose as we moved the RV forward this morning and I saw one while I was hiking. Betty said she also saw another as she drove to pick up the mail.
Betty: Seeing the moose is always really exciting, but they do not stay and pose for pictures. By the time I get my camera out and pull to the side of the road, they disappear into the woods. Some day I hope to come away with a good picture, but so far that hasn’t happened. I thought I had some good shots in Gros Morne only to find that one roll of film wasn’t on the spool, so I took a whole roll of great pictures 🙂
Eddies Cove West to Squid Cove 7/31/02 14/4974/360 Day 24
Our little nook at Barr’d Harbour is very quiet and scenic. The front of the RV is facing the tiny harbor and even from inside the RV, we can see from the back bedroom through the RV and across St. John Bay to St John Island and some smaller islands. Quite a view. Someone cranked their community generator about 5pm and it ran until 11pm. We saw lights burning in only two of the houses.
It was cool and windy when Betty dropped me along the road to start hiking. We saw a large bull moose, just before we reached the start point. It disappeared before we could get back to it with a camera. That seems to always be the case. After Betty sent me on my way she was off on her morning moose hunt. One time, as I hiked over a knoll, I saw our little Honda backed into the bushes. Betty had spotted a bull moose and was quietly waiting with her camera at the ready position for it or another to appear.
The feet felt good for about a mile then I could feel the left foot complaining. By 11am I had walked seven miles to the entrance lane for our hide-away parking area. I stopped for lunch and to rest the feet. Betty whipped up a grilled cheese and Canadian Pea Soup, just right on a chilly, breezy day. After a three hour break I continued hiking north as Betty drove on up to find our next campsite and to make some phone calls if she could locate a pay phone.
Meanwhile, I was again walking along the coastline. A killer whale had washed up on the shore, it appeared to have died a day or two ago. It was about 25 feet long. Betty picked me up on her way back.
No Hiking Today 8/1/02 14/4974/34 Day 25
We made this another “tourist” day. There are a number of things we want to do and see on this Northern Peninsula and we’ll do some of them and let the feet recuperate for a day or two. First, we moved the RV forward about 30 miles to a school parking lot at Plum Point. The school is inactive during the summer and provides a distant view of the bay.
Today we were off in search of icebergs. A couple of weeks ago some visitors at a campground told us that they had seen several icebergs on the northeast coast of the Northern Peninsula.
We drove about 55 miles across the peninsula to St. Julien’s. The Postmaster there told Betty that the last of the icebergs passed St. Julien’s about two weeks ago. He thought we might find some at the little fishing village of Conche about 40 miles south, down the coast. It was about a 60 mile drive to get there, but sure enough, we spotted the brilliant white spot across the bay as we descended into Conche. Evidently, as other icebergs floated southward to melt in warmer waters, this one got trapped in the bay. The visible portion may have been the size of a large ship, which is smaller than many of the icebergs that pass here. In order to get as close as possible, we drove through the neat little village then on a dirt lane onto a hillside. From there we walked along the steep cliffs to a good view point. The little berg was probably a mile away but it was exciting to actually see an iceberg. We had only seen them from an airliner at 30,000 feet before this lucky day. While scanning the horizon of the sea, we saw another iceberg that was at least 12 miles away and maybe a lot farther depending on its size.
As we waked down the grassy lane toward the car we both remarked at how it seemed like the heather of the coastal hills above an Irish or Scottish village. It was a quaint setting that just made you feel good and very glad to be there.
Today was also a good day for spotting moose. It was raining this morning on the way across the low Long Range Mountains and we saw eight moose. However, we were not quick enough to get a picture of one. Then, on the drive back to the RV, a beautiful cow moose posed while Betty clicked away at the shutters of two cameras (not at the same time). I even had time to get out and get a shot with my little camera. The total for the day was 10 moose sighted and one captured on film. It was a good, restful and memorable day.
Betty: When we left Barr’d Harbour this morning, I stopped in to tell Mrs. Chambers good bye and thank you. She had tears in her eyes when she said, “You’re leaving already? It’ll be so lonely when you’re gone”.
No Hiking Today 8/02/02 0/4974/360 Day 26
Labrador! Just the sound of it stirs the imagination and conjures up images of dogsleds, eskimos, explorers, tundra, and frozen islands with polar bears. An elementary school book picture comes to mind. An explorer and his Eskimo guide were dressed in long fur parkas and mukluks next to their skin kayaks on pack-ice and the caption said they were in Labrador.
Today we took a 17 mile ferry ride across the Strait of Belle Isle to Labrador. It was a memorable day, we saw icebergs, the barren tundra, a whale and had the best seafood chowder ever made.
We were hoping to see a puffin but only identified common terns and herring gulls. There is a small island in Bradore Bay that is a preserve because it is the summer home of puffin and razorbills by the thousands. We drove south along the coast and just into the province of Quebec to Bradore Bay. The closest that viewers can get is about a quarter-mile so our 400mm lens only shows tiny white dots that we are calling puffins until we find out differently.
Time out!!!
It is dusk and we are now back at the RV in Plum Point, Newfoundland. Betty has been walking Levi behind the school building. As I wrote this, she tapped on the window and said they walked up on a big bull moose. I grabbed a couple of cameras and we went stalking in hopes of some good pictures. Betty said it had a beautiful large rack, she was only 150 feet away when she first saw it. Unfortunately, by the time we returned, it had slipped back into the darker woodline near a little lake, so there will be no pictures of this one. Well, it was an exciting few minutes.
It was a memorable end to a memorable day.
Squid Cove to Plum Point 8/03/02 17/4991/371 Day 27
It felt good to be back at it. First along the coast then into the thick stunted, windblown fir and spruce that they call tuckamore. In 17 miles, the only notable events were the sighting of a moose and what I guess to be an otter. The feet must have needed a couple of days rest because they did fine today.
While I was enjoying the scenery, Betty was scouting ahead for an RV site. She found that the nearest possibility was near St. Anthony, 80 miles ahead. We moved the RV forward to the Triple Falls RV park. This will require a long shuttle for the next couple of days, but if I can knock out 17 plus miles each day we’ll soon be within a reasonable distance. This may be the last RV move we have before we finish. This site is only about 15 miles from L’Anse aux Meadows at land’s end.
On the drive up here, we spotted two young moose playfully practicing their head jousting and another a few miles later. The combined total for us today was nine.
Betty: When I went out scouting for a campsite today, I was really surprised to find none between where we were parked at Plum Point and St. Anthony. We had been coming across RV parks, that weren’t listed in any of our resource material, every 20 or so miles. We had dry camped for four days, so our last dump station was in Hawke’s Bay. Well, 80 miles or not, we had to make the drive. The folks at Triple Falls RV Park are wonderful and they have a beautiful campsite. I had originally placed a reservation to be here on the 3rd of Aug. Then when Chuck’s feet were giving him trouble and we realized we wouldn’t be there, I called and changed our reservation to the 6th. Then out of necessity, I appeared on their doorstep on the 3rd to find out if they could squeeze us in. They did. Our thanks to Nate and Ruth!!! We have water, electric and empty tanks.
Plum Point to Deadmans Cove 8/04/02 17/5008/388 Day 28
Yesterday we parked in an “overflow” area of the campground. They said the a/c power was 15 amp, but we popped circuit breakers every time we hit 12 amps. This morning they said we could have a 20 amp site as soon as an RV caravan departed. It was about 9:30 before we could move in so we got a late start. Then, we had to drive one and one-half hours back to our start point. Because it was so far, Betty waited until I finished hiking to take me back. Usually, she can return to the RV and come back to pick me up later.
On the way to the start we saw a cow moose posing along side the road. Also some icebergs were in the Strait.
It was a breezy day, but fortunately it was a quartering tail wind and the miles passed quickly. Betty was waiting at the 17 mile point as planned. It was a long drive back but it will get significantly shorter each day. Betty: Chuck went over 5000 miles today! While Chuck was hiking today, I went poking around Plum Point and the neighboring villages. Regardless of where you go here, the scenery is just beautiful and the villages are so quaint. I drove through Plum Point and into Bird Cove and noticed a sign pointing to an archeological dig. So, I decided to check it out. When I got near the site I found an Interpretive Center and even though it was Sunday, they were open. Michelle Dempster and Helda Pittman welcomed me to the center and Helda took me on a tour of their museum. The digs in the Bird Cove area have provided evidence of the Maritime Archaic Indians living in the area 4,500 years ago, followed by the Groswater Palaeoeskimo people about 2,000 years ago and then recent Indians. The digs in the area are still actively producing artifacts and clues about the inhabitants. Helda told me that one of the curious facts is they have not uncovered human remains. This may be because they haven’t discovered the burial site yet. It’s amazing to realize that people could survive in a climate as harsh as this must be in the winters without the modern conveniences we take for granted. Wow!
Deadmans Cove to Eddies Cove 8/05/02 20/5028/408 Day 29
Since it is sixty miles from our RV campsite to today’s start point, I came up with a plan to preclude the need for Betty to take me. If she drives me to the start point, she either has to wait about seven hours or make the long drive twice. The alternate plan is that I will load a bicycle on the back of the Honda and use it to shuttle.
As I was about to leave, Betty said she thought the weather looked like it might get worse and maybe she should drive me. Casually, I said not to worry, I’d be fine – wrong. By the time I drove to the point at which I expected to end, it was misting. Since there was no wind, I decided to leave the car there and ride the bike the twenty miles south to the start then hike north to the car and drive it back to get the bike. Within five miles the mist became rain, a breeze picked up and soon it was pouring and blowing. At the start point, I locked the bike to a pole and immediately started hiking before I got chilled. Starting a 20 mile hike with soaked feet, socks and shoes is not really very smart, but that dry car was waiting so it seemed best to get on with it. My parka kept the top half dry but my hiking shorts were soaked and drained water down my legs and into the already flooded shoes. This wasn’t one of my better trail days. On the bike ride, I had spotted a little cafe (one of only a couple on the day’s route) that said “Home Made Chowder”. That became my goal, the L&E Cafe.
Upon arrival, I was a mess. I parked my daypack, hat and hiking stick in the entry and checked to see how much Canadian money I had in my wallet. Drats, only US dollars. I asked if they took VISA, while giving me the once over, the waitress reluctantly acknowledged that they did. After ordering the chowder and chips, I stepped in the washroom to dry off a bit. The guy in the mirror scared me. Emptying my shoes, wringing socks and drying my face and hair probably didn’t help much but I felt better. The steaming chowder and hot tea were heavenly.
That warm glow carried me for about five miles, then it was back to confronting the reality of wet feet and blowing rain. This stretch of 20 miles is entirely along the coast and I had hoped to spot a whale or at least some icebergs. However, the visibility was barely beyond the rocks in the surf. Finally, about five miles farther than it should have been, the ending and the little Honda eased out of the fog. Now drive 20 miles back to get the bike and 60 miles to the RV and call it a day. It was 8:30 pm and Betty had a warm smile, chilled wine and a hot meal waiting. She also had that look of “I tried to tell you and you wouldn’t listen”. But, she said nothing while listening to my whining about the trials of the trail.
No Hiking Today 8/06/02 0/5028/408 Day 30
Today is our 36th anniversary so we decided to take the day off and maybe poke around this unique and historic area.
We caught up on some correspondence and Betty tapped into the campground phone to send and receive email messages. Nate and the folks that manage this campground have been very helpful. Our next door neighbors are John and Alma George from near Kingston, Ontario. The more we talked the more we found that we had in common: hiking, biking, canoeing, sailing and much more. Too bad we are committed this evening and they depart tomorrow.
It was a rainy afternoon and we hoped to locate a local fisherman named Boyce Roberts in the village of Quirpon near L’Anse aux Meadows. Last year Eb Eberhart (Nimblewill Nomad) arranged to have Boyce take him by boat to Belle Isle. This is about a 20 mile trip and since no one lives on the island, there is no need for a ferry service. Having neither address nor phone number we decided to drive to Quirpon and ask around until we located him. Betty read from the journal of Eb’s hike and found that there were about 25 exchange students staying with Boyce and Joanne when Eb arrived. As we drove through Quirpon, I saw a large home on the water with a dock out back. Thinking that this would be a good place to start, we stopped and I knocked. The gentleman who came to the door introduced himself as Boyce Roberts. It was almost as if we had found long lost relatives. Joanne and Boyce invited us in and the air was alive with chatter about Eb, Belle Isle, our hike, boats and the weather and whales. Whales!! The Roberts showed us several rolls of recently developed film and hundreds of digital pictures on their computer. They had so many great, close-ups of whales, breaching diving and waving that National Geographic should be so lucky.
Boyce agreed to take us to Belle Isle when we desired as long as the weather was agreeable. We made it clear that we too wanted good weather, meaning calm seas. As we were departing, Boyce gave us enough fresh cod that we can feast for days.
We had dinner at the Norseman Restaurant. They had an entertaining show that told about the Viking history that occurred in this area. As luck would have it, at our little table which seated five, one of the ladies, Jennifer Crandall, wrote the text for some of the historical presentations and she has written some books and stories. The other two young ladies, Christie and Laurie Phillips, are the great granddaughters of Doctor Grenfell, a respected legend in the development of healthcare in this remote area. They were all interesting and it was a delight to talk with them during the evening.
Jennifer told us that the young woman who acted as a hostess during the presentation, Gina, could tell us how to hike to “Brendan’s Rock”. This stone has some carvings that many authorities believe prove that the Irish were here drinking ale a few hundred years before the Vikings arrived. Gina Hodge is the owner and manager of the restaurant, she said she could lead us on a three mile hike to Brendan’s Rock any day that she did not work. When we told her that we planned to hike the length of Belle Isle, she was interested in joining us. She is gathering data for a Masters Thesis concerning coastal morphology of this area. We promised to check with Boyce to see if Gina and her sister could accompany us.
Eddies Cove to 15 miles East 8/07/02 15/5043/423 Day 31
When Betty dropped me at the coastal village of Eddies Cove, the wind was blowing at about 15mph. I used my rain parka as a windbreaker. There were white caps on the Strait and I was glad we were not going to Belle Isle today. Our RV neighbors, John and Alma George, waved as they drove by heading south to catch the ferry to Labrador then home to Ontario.
Within an hour it was raining hard and the wind was probably 20mph gusting to 30mph. By this time I had put on my rainpants. It was the first time on this trip to hike in long pants. Even though the temperature was 52 degrees, it was cold. I had the parka hood over my head and was wearing wool gloves and hiking fast to create as much body heat as possible. A weather front must have been passing because an hour later the rain stopped, the wind was down to about 10mph, and the temperature was up to 63 degrees. By the time Betty met me, I had taken off the gloves and rainpants and was back in my comfort zone.
This evening we attended “The Great Viking Feast” in St Anthony. It was held in Leifsburdir, a sod covered hall that was half dug into the ground. We had moose stew, cod casserole, Jiggs Dinner (a mix of cooked veggies), baked salmon, squid fried rice, cod tongues and roast capelin. For dessert it was partridgeberry flatbreads with bakeapple sauce. This was all local fare that has been eaten in this area for generations. All the staff were dressed in Viking garb and Captain Hroadsson, with his big curly beard and long hair, carried a large broad sword and held court to settle any disputes. It was a good meal and a lot of fun.
Moose count, 8 for the day.
15 miles East of Eddies Cove to 30 miles East of Eddies Cove 8/08/02 15/5058/438 Day 32
It is cloudy but the rain has stopped and it is a bit warmer, maybe 65 degrees.
Just a few miles into the day’s hike I saw a young bull moose grazing in a foggy woodline. It was a great day to be hiking.
For days we have been moving northward along the west coast, often right at the water’s edge. Then, yesterday we turned eastward to cut across the northern tip of this long peninsula. It will take three days to hike across it, then we will turn north again for the final stretch into L’Anse aux Meadows and land’s end. After that, a boat trip to Belle Isle and a 12 mile hike up its length and we will finish.
The trip across the peninsula is pretty barren, mostly rolling miles of rock and bog. Some of the lower areas are protected enough to support small fir and spruce. The road is often flat and straight for two or three miles. Looking ahead, I saw a dot that was growing bigger. It was a lone cyclist. Soon we were both standing on this remote road comparing notes. Marty Basch is from Conway, New Hampshire and is bicycling around the Maritime Provinces. He cycled up through Nova Scotia and after Newfoundland he will take the ferry to Labrador. Eventually, he will make his way to Goose Bay and back down through Quebec.
We had an interesting time talking but after about 20 minutes we departed in opposite directions to continue our distinctly different but related adventures. Wishing each other a safe journey we were then back in our own world of thoughts. As is often the case after such encounters, I replayed the discussion in my mind. There were questions about his trip that I wished I had asked. Oh yes, and I should have told him about the chowder and chips at the L&E Cafe and much more. That thread of thought carried me for about three miles.
With a continuing rise in temperature, I slowly adjusted my own climate control system. First, I unzipped the top half of my parka and loosened the wrist straps. That creates a bellows effect as the arms swing while walking. Soon the parka was off and stowed in the pack and the shirt sleeves were rolled higher every few minutes. Finally, the shirt buttons were unfastened. The midday temperature was about 75 degrees, so it was still comfortable hiking.
Betty met me at the 15 mile point and we drove directly to a meeting with Dave Taylor, the Principal Lighthouse Keeper who had worked at the NE Lighthouse on Belle Isle for 26 years until it was automated last year.
Betty said yesterday morning that she wanted to locate a lighthouse keeper who had worked on Belle Isle. Actually, she got leads on two. Nate, at our campground, told her about Randy Campbell in nearby Raleigh and he also suggested that she talk with folks at the Canadian Coast Guard station in St Anthony. While at the C/G station, Pat Simms made a call to Dave Taylor who now works at the St Anthony Lighthouse.
When we met, Dave showed us photos of the lighthouse and the surrounding area. He also made a copy of a map of Belle Isle for me. It was the first map of the island that I have seen. It was immediately obvious that Dave was very proud of the work he had done on Belle Isle and missed being isolated on that remote rock 20 miles out in the Atlantic Ocean. He was there last year when Eb Eberhart hiked up to the lighthouse completing his long saga.
The information Dave provided will be most helpful. It will help insure that I complete the entire 12 mile hike in one day and still keep the hiking time as brief as possible. As we said good-bye he suggested that we talk to Terry Simms at the Coast Guard station to see if they might have a maintenance run to Belle Isle scheduled for next week. If there was any possibility that I could ride to Belle Isle with the crew, then Boyce could pick me up without the need to wait about six hours for me to complete the 12 mile hike.
Pat, who put Betty in contact with Dave yesterday, escorted us into the St Anthony Coast Guard communications and control center to meet Terry Simms. Terry showed us around the center and explained how they tracked vessels coming from Europe. He said since the attacks in September last year they more closely follow vessels entering the St Lawrence headed to the Great Lakes and those bound for the NE United States.
Unfortunately, they had no trips scheduled to Belle Isle next week but he offered to loan me a hand held radio if I needed it.
Later, back at the RV, Nate delivered a large package of forwarded mail to our door. Betty did a great job fixing the fresh cod given to us by Boyce and Joanne. After dinner, she paid all the bills that had just arrived in the mail drop. Some are only a couple of days from their due date. What a credit to our civilized system that we are in a foreign country on the remote fringe of North America and the bills still find us. Next time we’ll try harder.
No Hiking Today 8/09/02 0/5058/438 Day 32
We locked up the RV, left it at Triple Falls Campground near St Anthony and headed south in the Honda. The destination is Corner Brook about 300 miles back down the island where we will attend the first annual (hopefully) Newfoundland Hiking Festival hosted by the Sou’Wester Hiking Club at Corner Brook.
This is sort of a return to civilization for us. Corner Brook is the second largest city in Newfoundland and we really enjoyed our time here as we hiked through this area about three weeks ago.
Our first order of business was to drop off eight rolls of 35mm film for developing and two memory chips from the digital camera for loading onto CDs. Then we checked in at the beautiful Glynmill Inn and called Bob Diamond and Arne Helgeland to let them know that we had indeed returned since they had scheduled us to talk about our trip after the Festival dinner on Saturday (tomorrow) evening.
This evening, we joined about one hundred Festival attendees at the Rod and Gun Club for some wine and cheese and some stimulating conversation with lots of interesting folks. There were two slide presentations, both were superb. Keith Nicol, a geography professor at Grenfell College, talked about hikes throughout Newfoundland and had spectacular slides of mountain views and trails. Kathy Didkowsky, author and tour guide, told us about the 4 1/2 month supported hike on the Trans-Canada Trail she and her three teenage children completed. What a challenge for a mom. She had great slides set to music they had recorded as they hiked – very entertaining.
After the presentations, I talked with Judy who, about five years ago, camped on Belle Isle for a few days. She promised to bring some photos and more information tomorrow night.
It was a most enjoyable evening.
No Hiking Today (In Corner Brook) 8/10/02 0/5058/438 Day 32
In the hotel room we were able to connect the computer to their phone line. Betty spent the morning posting the website and answering email. We ran some errands and I sent some email messages in the afternoon. We arrived at the Rod & Gun Club early for a meeting with Bob Diamond and Mike Roy. Bob was unable to contact Dr. Roy so there was no meeting.
Judy arrived early with the pictures of her trip to Belle Isle just as she had planned. She and her husband, Barry, and another couple spent four days camping on Belle Isle about five years ago. She said a tent was blown away with camping gear inside it. It would have blown off a cliff into the sea if it had not caught on some rocks. We enjoyed hearing her stories and the pictures helped us visualize what to expect on Belle Isle.
We talked with lots of interesting folks including Keith and Kathy, both of the speakers at last night’s event. Our evening meal was called a “Jiggs Dinner” and is one of their traditional dishes. It is unique in that it does not include fish. Consisting mostly of vegetables, it includes: boiled potatoes, carrots, cabbage, rutabaga, peas pudding (very thick pea soup) and salt pork. We had partridgeberry cake for dessert. All was good.
After dinner, the first presentation was interesting but lasted 45 minutes longer than programmed. Bob Diamond, the host, asked this guy to wrap it up several times and finally stood in front of his projector. As Bob was politely but firmly trying to thank him and present him with a token gift, the guy just keeps on talking, referring to what would have been on the screen. The crowd applauded as Bob came forward and kept applauding to let this guy know it was enough, but he just kept going. We might have seen it as a bit more comical if he had not been cutting into my scheduled time. At Bob’s request, I drastically cut my talk to get them back on schedule. As I quickly concluded, I received a resounding ovation, mostly because I kept it brief and to the point, I think.
A band followed. Several folks approached us to find out more about our trip. A couple of members apologized for the rudeness of the first speaker.
No Hiking Today (Drove from Corner Brook to St Anthony) 8/11/02 0/5058/438 Day 32
I had intended to hike with this interesting group today. The day’s route, will someday be part of the mountainous trail from one end of Newfoundland to the other. Even if the hike ended as scheduled it would be midnight by the time we drove three hundred miles back to our RV near St. Anthony.
We thought it best that I not hike so we could arrive back at our RV without driving through the night. About 10pm last night, I called both Arne and Bob to let them know that I would not be at the hike. Neither was home, so I left messages.
This morning, Betty bought some groceries from the large supermarket here and we were ready to start driving north. Before leaving town we stopped for lunch at a Tim Horton restaurant and met John and Alma George who just happened to be staying in Corner Brook for a couple of days. They were our next door neighbors, at Triple Falls Campground near St Anthony, last week. Since then they have been off on adventures in Labrador. It was good seeing them and we eagerly chatted about all sorts of things.
It rained all of the afternoon. We stopped for dinner at a nice restaurant called the Silver Spoon. We had passed it several times as I was hiking north but the timing was never right to stop for a meal. It was great food, a picturesque atmosphere and it had good service. We got a picture and their brochure to give to our friend Jim Glowacki who manages the Silver Spoon restaurant in Naples, Florida (there is no connection).
On the way back we saw five moose and arrived at the campground, in the rain, just at dusk. I was glad we did not have to drive all night in the rain. Few people here travel at night because of the very real danger of hitting a moose. Every morning I see fresh moose tracks all along the shoulders of the road.
30 miles east of Eddies Cove to 2 miles north of 430 on Highway 436 8/12/02 17/5075/455 Day 33
The rain stopped during the night. Betty drove the RV to the campground dump station then back to our campsite. None of the campgrounds have had sewer hookups since we were at Corner Brook about three weeks ago. But, they generally, but not always, have a dump station and we usually move on after a couple of days so it’s not a problem.
It was a good hiking day, cool and clear. I saw three moose the first couple of hours. Just before Betty picked me up, I turned north off of Hiway 430 onto 436 toward L’Anse aux Meadows – the final stretch.
After a glass of wine, Betty fixed some cheese fondue. This may date us but it brings back some good memories, like back in the sixties in a chalet on a fog covered lake in Switzerland with my mom and my sister Mae. Also with us were our daughter Susan and Mae’s son RD, both about age three. As I remember they didn’t have any wine but didn’t care for the fondue.
Betty: The trip down and back from Corner Brook took us along and through the majestic Long Range Mountains which are part of the Appalachian chain and where, some day, there will most likely be an extension of the International Appalachian Trail. As we looked at the mountains we talked about that trail and how Newfoundland would conquer building the trail and having access points. Right now there are few roads that lead into the mountains. Most development is along the coast and the main highways. It will be quite an undertaking, but with wonderful results as these mountains will offer spectacular vistas and challenging hiking. Dr. Roy, who gave one of the presentations at the festival, is the same person who is trying to get this dream of a mountain trail realized. And now, on to the trail. The weather forecast shows sunny days in our future. Hopefully it will also mean smooth seas.
2 miles North of Highway 430 to Land’s End at L’Anse aux Meadows 8/13/02 18/5093/473 Day 34
This morning we packed up to move the RV from Triple Falls Campground to Viking RV Park. On the way, we stopped to have the propane tank filled. After hooking up at our new site, we drove a couple of miles to Quirpon (pronounced karpoon) to check in with Boyce and Joanne Roberts. Boyce was gone at that time and we arranged with Joanne that they would stop by the campground this evening. We will discuss the plans for the boat trip to Belle Isle.
We had planned a short hike (14 miles) for today which was good since I didn’t get started until 1:30pm. This will get us within four miles of the point of land at L’Anse aux Meadows. Then we will have only the 12 miles hike on Belle Isle to complete the entire journey. I can easily knock out the four miles in the morning, leaving the afternoon open for sightseeing.
There was a light rain and heavy fog all day. The Newfoundlanders call it a “mossy” day. It is one of those rare times when I can hike right to the RV and Betty doesn’t have to drive to get me. She had a great spaghetti dinner ready when I got out of the shower. With the dinner she had a salad and fresh bread. Both are treats for us. Fresh veggies are hard to find and the bakeries often only have white loaf bread. Betty had just finished cleaning up after dinner when Boyce Roberts and a fishing friend, Ralph, arrived. Boyce said the weather forecast was for ideal conditions tomorrow. Great, it is a go! We agreed to meet at his place at 8am. His wife, Joanne, would call Allan Bock, the local reporter. Betty and I would contact Gina Hodge and let them know the plan.
It was almost 8pm when Boyce and Ralph drove off. Betty and I left a minute later on our way to the Norseman Restaurant to notify Gina. We caught her between acts at her dinner theater. We quickly decided that Gina, her sister Jill and a friend would see if they could rearrange their schedules. Those who could make it would be at Boyce’s dock NLT 8am in the morning. On the short drive back to the RV, we decided that I would hike the remaining four miles to “land’s end” tonight.
At 10 minutes after eight, I was on my way. The rain had stopped but light was already fading, so I clipped along at a brisk pace. It was a magical, kind of eerie, feeling walking through the flat terrain of L’Anse aux Meadows in the stillness and foggy low light. It was easy to imagine norsemen roaming the meadows and a Viking village just over the rise. As the sea came into view, I could hear the faint moan of a distant foghorn. It was nearly dark as I neared the point of land, the sound of thousands of birds chattering drifted across the calm water from a low island just offshore. Betty was waiting at the end of the road, it was 9:10pm. In order to get to the actual point, I crossed the low bank and walked on the beach to a rocky area, then rock hopped over tidal pools to the water’s edge. It was low tide so I was a couple of hundred feet from land as I splashed the sea and looked around. It was now dark, I could see lights from a tiny coastal village. I think I identified lights from the Norseman Restaurant where Gina and her crew would be wrapping up their performance.
As I returned to the car, it occurred to me that this would not be a good place to fall and break a leg or get knocked unconscious. The tides in Newfoundland rise and fall over 30 feet in some areas. In the dark, Betty would have only a general idea of my whereabouts but wouldn’t know the exact route. I was a bit more careful on the return trip.
Back at the RV we carefully chose and packed the items we thought we might need for the boat trip and island hike tomorrow. I stuffed items into my larger pack that would be needed if I had to spend a day or two waiting on the island. We both packed rain gear, wind breakers and warm clothes for the 20 miles boat trip over and back. And, we took three cameras (a 35mm, an auto-focus and a digital). So, a day pack for Betty’s gear, a day pack for the cameras, lenses and film, and my medium sized pack with emergency gear. The plan is for Boyce to drop me off at the SW lighthouse then he and Betty will take the boat to Black Joke Cove near the NE lighthouse to pick me up, hopefully all the same day. However, should the weather turn bad, during their six hour wait, they will return home and get me when the weather clears, if they feel like it.
No Hiking 8/14/02 0/5093/473
We were up before six double checking our gear. It was foggy, but since it had been mostly clear last night we hoped the sun would soon burn it off and we could depart on schedule. A few minutes after seven Boyce drove up to ask if I would feel comfortable hiking the entire 12 mile length of Belle Isle in very thick fog. He said a heavy fog often settles on Belle Isle and will hide the 300 foot high rocky isle even when the sea around it has better visibility. Since I had a map and a compass and had talked with Dave Taylor who had walked this same route, I told Boyce that I didn’t anticipate a problem. So, we are still on for an 8am departure.
When we arrived at the dock behind Boyce’s house, he told us he had just received a current weather report. The fog was expected to hold on the water for the next 24 hours or more. Translation – he can get us there, but we’d have to go slow watching closely for freighters and icebergs, plus we would not be able to see anything but fog. We decided to hold a day or two until the weather cleared.
A few minutes later, Gina Hodge and her sister Jill arrived. They were dressed for the trip and eager to go. I think they were more disappointed than Betty and I. Of course, we know we will go when the weather clears; they may not be able to arrange their schedules for a later day.
Betty and I took advantage of the “free” day to visit the Grenfell Center in St Anthony. It was quite interesting, we spent most of the day going through the Interpretive displays then a visit to the Grenfell house. Doctor Wilfred Grenfell came to Labrador in 1889 to aid fishermen and their families. In 1892, he established a hospital in St Anthony and medical clinics along the coasts of northern Newfoundland and Labrador. Travel then was by coastal boat in summer and by dog sled in winter. During freeze-up and thaw there were long periods of total isolation. He and his wife, Anna, had a major influence on the economic, social, cultural and medical development of this remote part of the world. He was knighted in the 1920s and Sir Wilfred Grenfell was given the “Livingston” award (their highest) by the National Geographic Society before his death in 1940 in Vermont. A guide at the Interpretive Center, proudly told us that Dr. Grenfell’s great-granddaughter, Laurie, had worked there this summer. It was Laurie and her sister, Christie, that sat at our table last week at the Norseman Restaurant.
There is a tradition in Newfoundland that visitors who make the effort to get here and like this land are initiated as “Newfies”. They call the ceremony a “Screech In”. This was our night. We went to the Canadian Legion Hall in St Anthony for fish and chips. They had a local band and during a long break we, along with several others, were “Screeched In”. During this goofy ritual, the inductees learn to talk, eat, drink and dance like Newfoundlanders. We all repeated local slang, ate dried little fish and some other stuff, drank a shot of Screech rum, and danced the Newfie scuff. The highlight was a codfish that was passed around for everyone to kiss. We survived.
Betty: We had to say something romantic to the cod before we kissed it. Ugh! Another interesting thing about Dr. Grenfell and the doctors that followed in his footsteps. He traveled aboard a ship that was a fully equipped hospital ship. He could perform surgery and also had wards for both females and males aboard the ship. He also founded an orphanage in St Anthony. As he would make his rounds, he would often come upon children who had lost their parents or the parents couldn’t provide for them. He would take them to the orphanage. They were well cared for and could attend school. For most of them it probably was the difference between life and death.
Dr. Grenfell was actually a missionary doctor and along with his medical services, he also provided spiritual guidance to fishermen and their families.
Waiting on Weather 8/15/02 0/5093/473 Day 34
Heavy fog this morning, so it is another “no go” day. By noon it was a beautiful clear day, but the wind picked up and is now easterly which is not good.
Great, we used the time to visit the L’Anse aux Meadows Canadian National Park and Historic Site. For years we have read about it and often talked of visiting. It was fascinating. This site of a Viking settlement was first discovered in 1961 and there have now been years of archaeological digs and much historical and scientific research. Thousands of artifacts have been found and identified. It is clearly established that Vikings lived here 1,000 years ago. They think that the first Vikings on this site were led by Lief Ericson. It is the only authenticated Viking site in North America and the oldest verified site of any Europeans in the “New World”. It was intriguing to roam about these very old sites. Off to the side, the Park has reconstructed a tiny settlement of sod structures as a “living history” display. Interpreters dressed in Viking garb gave demonstrations and answered questions. This has been the highlight of the trip.
Back at the RV park, Betty started dinner while I drove a couple of miles into Quirpon to talk with Boyce. The wind had picked up during the day and Boyce said the wind was often twice as strong out on the open water. The forecast for tomorrow is even stronger winds. We wait.
Betty: Tomorrow while we wait we will visit another site, Norstead. Even though the weather is not good for boating – it is wonderful for sightseeing. The sun is out, it is warm and there is some wind. It is just incredibly beautiful here. When we were driving around yesterday, we visited with an older retired fisherman, Job Anderson. He lives right out on the edge of L’Anse aux Meadows, his house sitting right at the water’s edge. He told us he worked on the excavation at L’Anse aux Meadows for twenty-some years. He also said many years they don’t get much snow here. Maybe it has to do with the tropical currents. We haven’t seen evidence of the high posts that mark interior roads where lots of snow is expected.
We’re in Viking RV Park, just about 4 km from L’Anse aux Meadows. Rex, who owns and runs the park, is just wonderful. He’s a retired fisherman and he checks on our progress daily. Great guy! Wonderful park!! A winning combination.
Yesterday when we pulled back into the park from sightseeing, we had the most unusual surprise. There was a big bus looking RV. It was from Germany and had about 20 people on it. It is the size of a large charter/greyhound type bus. The front half has seats like a greyhound would have, but the back half has little oval windows – like portholes – stacked three high and about seven long. These apparently are like berths. Each berth having its own window. The outside underneath of one side of the bus had stoves and counters that pulled out and bays for cooking supplies and equipment. The outside of the other side had a tent extension that pulled out and stairs that probably led to the sleeping compartments. It was fascinating. I did get a picture of it The folks were just getting ready to eat when we pulled up and one of the guys asked if we wanted to join them, but we thanked him and declined. They have no other vehicles, so when they pulled out this morning, I suspect they drive to the sights just like a sightseeing bus would do.
Waiting on Weather at Viking RV Park 8/16/02 0/5093/473 Day 34
Another day of relaxation and waiting for favorable weather conditions to make the 20 miles crossing to Belle Isle. It was a great day here on the northern tip of Newfoundland’s Northern Peninsula. It was warm and sunny with a stiff SE breeze.
We visited an area called “Norstead”. It is a recreation of an old Viking village. In their ship repair house they have the “Snorri”, the actual Viking replica that sailed from Greenland to L’Anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland three or four years ago. This boat is a Knorr the sea worthy trading vessel the Vikings used for long voyages on open water. At fifty feet long and a beam of thirteen feet, it could carry over 20 tons of cargo. It was interesting to browse through this facsimile of Viking life a thousand years ago. This little village is located only a few hundred feet behind the tiny village of L’Anse aux Meadows and the Norseman Restaurant. At the entrance to Norstead we met Nicole and Dave. They were on a small Honda motorcycle just ready to leave when we talked with them. Dave lives in Newfoundland and Nicole is from Quebec. She has been living on the road in her RV. Her little motorcycle fits into a rack on the back of the RV. She said she mostly dry camps at quiet remote sites. While talking with this interesting pair, a fellow working on the entrance building filled us all in on some local information about polar bears that roam through their village, and local customs, etc. His name is also Dave. He pointed out where a polar bear had poked three holes through the wall of a small outbuilding. He also told us about two fishermen who had stopped on a snow covered island. Suddenly a polar bear came running at one of the guys. As the man was fleeing and the bear chasing him, the bear took a swipe at him. Its large paw ripped off the mans coat and lacerated his side. The other man saw what was happening and quickly got a rifle from the boat and killed the bear before it mauled the man to death.
While there, we hiked to the top of Roundhead Mountain. It is about 1 1/2 miles each way. There is a great view from the summit. We would have seen Belle Isle if it had not been for the haze. It is a good feeling to hike through these low hills and bays with islands all around. If we have to wait, this is a good place to do it.
Waiting on Weather – Whaling Trip 8/17/02 0/5093/473 Day 34
This morning Boyce stopped by to ask if we had a couple of hours to take a boat ride. He thought we might see some whales. We immediately said yes and structured our day around this wonderful opportunity. Thirty minutes later Boyce and Joanne plus their niece Lorna, a sixth grader, were telling us local whale and sea stories as we motored out of the harbor. Boyce has been a fisherman and lived on the sea all his life. He has a well used, 19 foot boat powered by a new 90HP Honda outboard motor.
There was heavy fog as we entered Belle Isle Straits that separate Newfoundland from Labrador. This is the preferred route of ships coming from Europe bound for the St. Lawrence Seaway and the Great Lakes. In winter this channel ices up and ships must take a longer route around the southwestern coast of Newfoundland. Within five minutes, Boyce spotted a whale blowing a high spout of water. As he moved us closer there were at least two humpback whales surfacing every minute or so. At times they
would dive and flip their big tail fluke high above the water. Sometimes they were only a hundred feet from the boat. Boyce and Joanne convinced us that the whales know the boat is there and will stay clear of it while putting on a show for us. This went on for about 15 minutes and they disappeared beneath the surface.
Only a minute or two later, Joanne saw whales quite a distance away. As we got closer, we saw at least three gracefully rolling and diving. Again we watched and snapped lots of pictures. Whales can be identified by the white pattern on the underside of their tail fluke. These were different whales than we had seen earlier.
As we motored back, we saw yet another whale, a seal and a school of porpoise playing around the boat. We also saw some sea birds that we don’t find in Florida: Arctic terns, Kittywakes and Shearwater gulls.
On the way into the harbor we passed Quirpon Lighthouse at the point of Quirpon Island. Boyce’s brother and his wife operate a B&B in the lighthouse keepers house. Joanne wanted to show us the buildings so we pulled into their little dock and waked up the hill to the lighthouse. Madonna was there getting ready for evening guests. She and Joanne gave us a tour of this beautiful, quint inn. Betty, Lorna and I climbed to the top of the lighthouse. As we enjoyed the view we saw whales surfacing in the distance.
Back at the boat, Boyce spotted a small school of capelin, a kipper sized fish. He got a cast net from his boat and with only two casts we had a bucket of capelin. He will dry them, then they can be roasted and eaten. We have had them at a few restaurants in the area, including at the “Screech In”.
This boat trip along was worth the four day wait for good weather. Boyce told us that the forecast was favorable for tomorrow. He said it may be windy with some chop but the visibility should be good. We made plans to go and left a message for Gina in the event she could join us.
Belle Isle 8/18/02 12/5105/485 Day 35
Well before the appointed time of 8am, we were on the dock behind the home of Boyce and Joanne Roberts. Soon we had the gear loaded in Boyce’s boat and were ready for this final phase of our five thousand mile saga. Apparently, Gina could not make it so we pushed off a few minutes after eight. Boyce had asked a friend and experienced fisherman, Sean Blake, to come along and help with handling the boat. Joanne also came along although she said it was against her better judgement. She brought their german-shepard like dog, Grizzly.
Soon the five of us plus Griz were splashing through a light chop in the Straits and heading for Belle Isle, twenty miles out in the North Atlantic. This isolated island is uninhabited and has an ominous reputation. Its two lighthouses guide ships crossing the Atlantic Ocean into the Straits of Belle Isle and onto the St Lawrence Seaway. It is known for treacherous seas and has been the scene of many shipwrecks and other catastrophes. One story is that the Captain’s wife on a ship crossing the North Atlantic had an affair with one of the seamen on board and both were put ashore on Belle Isle to starve or die of exposure. Another tale is that the European architect who designed the first lighthouse on Belle Isle sent two ships with men and materials to this remote spot. The ship with the men, granite blocks and horses for power landed safely on the island deposited its cargo and departed. The other ship with a year’s supply of food was lost at sea. Month’s later the architect came to check on the progress. He found the starved men had eaten the horses and were barely alive; no work had been done on the lighthouse. There are many other stories so strange that they are almost unbelievable so we’ll not repeat them here.
So, we have Belle Isle in sight, the seas have been building, whales are breaching and puffin are flying near our little boat in this big ocean. Soon Boyce points the bow into some concrete steps built into the steep rocks about 300 feet below the Southwest Lighthouse on Belle Isle. As I stepped off, Grizzly leaped to the rocks. I asked Joanne if it was OK for Griz to go with me, she said “of course” and I waved goodbye.
Looking back as I climbed higher up the cliff their boat seemed so tiny as it left a small wake through the white caps. They were starting a nine mile trip around the exposed Northwest side of the island. As I stood there on firm ground, they seemed so helpless.
A quick trip up to the lighthouse for a snapshot and I started the twelve mile hike across this rocky rolling plateau to the Northeast Lighthouse. Dave Taylor, the Principal Lighthouse keeper on the island until last year when both lights were automated, had told me they used four-wheelers to travel between lighthouses. I found a four-wheeler track leading Northeast and Griz and I were on our way. This track seemed to have had little use and was mostly overgrown with moss and other ground vegetation not over an inch or two high. It was difficult to follow and I spent an inordinate amount of time searching for tracks that would quickly fade again and again. After wasting much time trying to follow these ghost tracks, I decided to follow a compass heading.
The wind was at least 20 knots strong and was destroying my map each time I pulled it out to check my progress. Most of the terrain was rock or a peat moss kind of dry bog. It was spongy and, with each step, would sink three or four inches. This was easy on the feet but gave the legs a real workout. I soon took off my rainpants but kept the parka on as a windbreaker.
The setting was eerie, desolate and beautifully enchanting. Just knowing that I was the only human on this island was intriguing. The wind was unrelenting and as I crossed knolls and ridgelines it was even more intense. I tried to crouch behind large rocks when I looked at the map but even that didn’t help much. Twice I came over a rise to find a canyon two or three hundred feet deep in front of me. One time I was able to edge my way down and back up the other side. But the other canyon had sheer cliffs and I had to detour almost a mile around it. There are hundreds of ponds or small lakes with little streams flowing from some of them. These streams get bigger as they flow to the sea and in a few cases have created large deep, steep walled valleys.
The plan was for me to arrive at the Northeast Lighthouse as soon as possible. I told Boyce I thought it would take me about six hours, that would be 4pm. He said he could comfortably wait only as late as 6pm in order to return before total darkness. I also understood that they may have to leave earlier or may never get to the lighthouse if the sea conditions worsened. So, as the clock ticked, Griz and I keep plugging. The northeastern half of the island narrows and in places I was able to get glimpses of the sea and icebergs, on both sides. Progress seemed faster to rely on a compass heading and weave my way around peaks and between lakes rather than refer to the map. About three miles south of the NE Lighthouse I found a well used four-wheeler track and followed it and the sound of a fog horn to my destination.
At 4:30pm, Griz and I walked down a rocky path to the lighthouse, Joanne stepped out of one of the abandoned houses and yelled. Betty and the others were right behind her.
The excited chatter was thick as we simultaneously heard, asked about, and told others of the day’s events. I soon realized that they were the ones who had all the excitement while Griz and I were having a stroll on the knoll.
I soon came to realize that Sean and Joanne had pulled Betty from the icy water, Joanne had helped her into dry clothes and Boyce had expertly navigated through very rough seas to the safety of Black Joke Harbour at the foot of the lighthouse. I later found that Sean is the same quiet, quick thinking guy that we had heard about, who shot a polar bear before it killed his partner. Betty can give you the details of the sea adventure. I can’t thank the rest of our crew, Boyce, Joanne and Sean, enough for insuring her survival.
The guys were making preparations for spending the night at the deserted lighthouse. They had drained some fuel oil from an old engine and were foraging other supplies to help us stay warm through the night.
A little after 5pm, Boyce and Sean studied the sea conditions and Boyce decided we should try. The plan was to turn back if it proved to be anything like they experienced this morning. Fortunately, it was a following sea and it had calmed considerably, there were few white caps and Boyce sped homeward. We passed numerous seals, Puffin, Kittywake and Shearwater. We saw a few whales about a mile away and a large school of porpoise escorted us a few miles. Sean refueled while enroute and in about two hours we were picking up Madonna at Quirpon Lighthouse dock to take her to the mainland.
It was a very exciting day that could have been disastrous if it had not been for our three cool-headed and experienced guardians. We all went out to dinner to celebrate our good fortune; we were joined by Sean’s wife Fawn and their two children, Monica and Jared. It was a quiet, very satisfying meal at the Northern Delight restaurant with our new found friends in northern Newfoundland.
Betty: So here it is (a printed version) – a story about a dip in the North Atlantic.
After we dropped Chuck at the steps of the SW Lighthouse, we headed out and pulled into a little harbor. As I was stepping out of the boat onto a rock, I slipped on the moss and started sliding into the water. I managed to grab the boat on the way and was able to hold on with both hands, but the bottom half of me was in the water. We had already talked about the fact that if a person fell overboard their life expectancy in this temperature was five minutes. I treaded water and tried to reach the rocks with my feet. The moss was so slippery I couldn’t get a foot hold. At the same time Sean and Joanne had reached me and were holding my arms, as I was quickly tiring. Boyce was manuvering the boat to try to get to a place that I could get some traction and help with the efforts to pull me back on board. We finally managed to pull it off and I landed in the boat, on top of Sean – nice landing for me, but not so nice for him. Now, I have to tell you that I was freightened all the way across the Straits, and now I was even more frieghtened. I had a change of clothes with me and Joanne helped me out of my wet stuff and into dry clothes (bottom half). I had a change of socks, but no shoes. Joanne had extra shoes and gave me her boots – which were big enough for me to get my bigger feet in, and she put on her shoes. My rainpants were wet, so I wrapped another rain jacket around my legs and wrapped a wool blanket over that. I was still shaking uncontrollably and will probably never know if I was cold or just scared or both. Anyway, we had wasted far too much time and needed to head out. As we continued north around the island, the seas were much worse. Boyce expertly weaved through huge waves and breakers. I spent most of the day talking to God, hoping he was hearing me and would watch over us. Joanne and I commiserated on how we would surely call in a helicopter to rescue us if only we had contact with the outside world. We didn’t. Boyce and Sean concentrated on the seas. We saw many whales, seals and puffin on our way around and were soon at Black Joke Cove, the harbor at the north end. We got off the boat and headed up to the houses near the lighthouse. Boyce said that there was no way we could leave in seas like they were at the present time, so we should prepare to spend the night. The seas had huge white caps and it would be a following sea as we headed back. The two are not a good mix. Joanne and I hung my wet clothes out to dry. I soon discovered that the pants and socks I had put on were now wet and Joanne loaned me a pair of shorts and socks. We stayed warm in the houses and when the sun came out for a short time, we sat in it. The sunshine warmed me up and I stopped shaking and began to recover. Joanne and I walked around the area, exploring buildings and finding things that may help us through the night, should we have to stay. We all kept an eye on the sea and thought it was starting to calm a little. At about 4pm, Boyce said if it continued to calm, we should be able to leave between 5 and 6. Shortly after Chuck arrived, Boyce said we should give it a try. He said we would go as far as the SW end of the island and then when we could establish contact with the mainland, we would ask about the sea conditions and if they were favorable, head home. We did and the seas were good enough to make it under Boyce’s expert boatmanship. What an adventure. Thank you Boyce, Joanne and Sean!!!!
