Forillon National Park Day One

Got up late because "we" want to do some shopping in the town of Perce which is the tourist gateway to Forillon Park.  All I need is a ball cap 'cause some moose is probably wearing the one I lost on the trail in Cape Breton NP.  It only took me about 5 minutes, but we somehow killed another couple of hours improving the local economy before lunching at a local bistro.

Business End of Porky #1

Arrived late afternoon at Forillon's le' Petit Gaspe campground.  Decided to reconnoiter tomorrow's planned hike and bagged our first of six porcupines in two days.











"Still No moose?"


















VERY cool pebble beach.  Zillions of awesome stones to add to our growing collection in the back of the Funmobile.... But so sorry.  Not permitted to collect rocks from inside the park.














The last hour of the day spent looking for the seal colony that was listed on the ocal campground map.  Val would be happy to tell that story to anyone who has nothing better to listen to.

Good Night From Petit Gaspe

Brad & Val

Traveling The Gaspe' (Suburb of Paris)

Spent several days travelling from Louisbourg  into our next destination of Forillon National Park at the end of the Gaspe Penninsula in Quebec, exploring the small coastal towns along the way.  The original plan was to spend two nights in Kouchibouquack Provincial Park (pronounced just like it's spelled ???) where there were reportedly some beautiful bike trails through the coastal dunes and bogs.

What the report did not say was that Kouchibouquack is Micmac Indian for "mosquitos so big they ate all the moose".  Since there were no moose left, we stayed one night and moved on.  Nothing of great interest on the 25th.

Morning of the 26th we crossed into Quebec.  Cleared Quebec customs with no problems.  (Just kidding.  They aren't allowed to do that ... yet.)  First stop was the Provincial Visitor's "l'information" center, which turned out to be the Quebec Social Security Information Bureau, ("information" being the only word I could pick out on the sign).




A few blocks further down the road we located the universal "?" sign which I have learned to love.  We were also greeted by the wonderfully international sign    -->

Following the south shore of the Gaspe' Penninsula, it also became evident the the Canadian rules about bilingualism don't apply here, so as we role along, my previously mentioned French wench is coaching me on how not to embarass myself (and my Nation) too badly.



The stop for the night was coastal Perce', home of famous "La Roche".

Having shortened our stay at Mosquito Provincial Park, we had no reserved campground site.  However, entering town we stumbled on a nice looking RV park and were able to get a camp site with a pretty decent view.

View From the Bedroom Window

Good Night Form La Roche









PS  -  Although I pretty much continuously poke fun at the French Canadians, I will admit that we've met nothing but the most friendly and helpful people all day.  They all speak English better than I speak my second language ... which is none.  (I will however continue to poke fun.)

One If By Land .. Two If By Sea

On the afternoon of the 22 August we made our way from Fundy, east toward the historic site of Louisbourg, Nova Scotia.  The Cliff Notes version of the fortress town is as follows:

1.   1720's French King Louis XV builds fort to guard the last French harbor in Nova Scotia   and to get rich from the cod fishing.  (????)












2.  Fort terrifically designed by French to defend the town and harbor from invasion by sea.

3.   Not so well designed to defend from invasion by land.  (Plus guards were over worked.)

Pulled em right up this trail.

4.  1745  British land their canon here and roll them around to the above lightly defended (but well guarded) East Gate.

He Who dies With The Biggest ... (toys) ... Wins

5.   British take the Fort and the town from the French and send them all packing to Labrador or Newfoundland (or some other very cold place I can't remember).

At least they left the candelabra.

6.   Food quality and table manners suffer drastically.  Fish and chips and thin gruel.
($38 C plus tip.)















6.   1748  British give the place back to the French.  (How characteristically civil of the Brits).

Sassy French Chicken

7.   Frenchmen (and their sassy chickens) happily move back from Labrador.

Governor Lives Here

Normal folks live here
 (with their sassy chickens.)

8.  1758  Brits get P...'d off at the French about something and invade the Fort and town again.  (Same way as last time. You'd think the French would figure that out.)  Guess where the French went again?

9.   This time the Brits level the place to the ground.  Forts, houses, and all, (and ate the sassy French chickens).

10.  1960's  Fort and town reconstructed as a national historic site by Ron Boviard as result of lobbying by French Canadian interest groups.  Repopulated by French reinactors.

11.  2013 August 23  Invaded again.  This time by two Americans, (and again by land), who benevolently did not send the Frenchmen back to Labrador AGAIN.  (And we did NOT eat the sassy French chicken.)

Photos of the pretty little French (Li'chon) wench I found along the way.

































Goodnight From Louisbourg

Time Wharp

 

In another valiant effort to catch up, today's post will cover our 3 days (8/20 - 8/22) in Cape Breton Highlands National Park in Nova Scotia.  The Cabot Trail which encircles Cape Breton, is considered one of Canada's most spectacular drives.  While possibly a bit of a hyperbole, it was very spectacular indeed.

I have to say that when researching the trip, I almost ruled out this loop when warned about the 16% road grades.  That's pretty steep and I had memories of the Funmobile's maiden voyage and having to be towed out of a 1-way river valley road because I couldn't get up the grade I just went down.  Fortunately I ignored logic and we went anyway.

BTW - I do have to express on VERY annoying factor of this trip.  We have been combing New Hampshire, Maine, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia now for two weeks.  This is prime moose country and I have counted 2,143 "CAUTION MOOSE" signs so far.  Valerie has stated innumerable times, "You're supposed to be the macho, dominant provider.  FIND ME A DAMN MOOSE."  We did miss to gigantic bulls by about 30 minutes, but that's not cuttin' it.  I haven't given up yet, but my ego is taking a beating.  (Did spot a bear though.)



So without further comment, the following is a selection of some of the sights we encountered.

So... Is THIS good enough for a DAMN MOOSE!

A Pitcher Plant

A "slope fen" 

On The Move to New Scotia

ANOTHER View of Commonly Beautiful Scenery

Yeh. Yeh.  I know I skipped the 18th.  But it was just another day of more awesome scenery, beaches, streams, the deepest green moss-covered forest floor you could ever imagine....  But nothing I could make snarky comments on so I skipped the day's post.


Besides, we're being plagued by connectivity issues (there is none most of the time) and I'm so far behind I need to do some catch-up.  (Today is actually the 26th and I'm post dating.).

You know what it's like having a kid stare at you over
the back of an airline seat.  Well we were eyeball
to eyeball with this critter for 20  km.

So back to fake "today" the 19th of August.  We left Fundy Park for a trip up the winding coast road and on into Nova Scotia, (which is some language for new Scotland maybe).  I say "some language", because every few miles you enter a new country around here.  First is Scottish, then Irish, some Acadian, then French Rebel held Canada.  (More on that subject later.)

I Really Like The Last Safety Tip

Oh yea.  There's a comfortable rock
right over there.  SWIM for it .
QUICK - HURRY.

First stop was up the road away's to Hopewell Rocks from where, (or is it which), you supposedly can experience the massive tide range of the Bay of Fundy.  We arrived at just prior to peak high tide.  Had we the time, we would have witnessed the outbound tide dropping some 6 feet per hour.  Like somebody in  Maine flushed the toilet on Canada.


However, we had a long drive ahead..  A short but scenic walk to the prime viewing point found us just shortly behind a tour bus load of approximately 1.4 billion "foreigner tourists", all of whom needed a picture of each and every other member of the entourage in front of each and every scenic overlook.  (Consider the combinations and permutations of THAT!)

Uh.... Which way to da' beach?

One more step back Ya Ya

We did finally work our way down the 100 and some feet of stairs which take you to the beach, which also abruptly ended in the water 30 and some feet above the beach.  What made the walk thoroughly worth while was watching  Mr Jones pose Mrs Jones at the very last un-submerged stair only to get sloshed by the next wave of the rising tidal surge.  (OK, I tried to do the same thing, but Val wasn't falling for that one.)

Canadians have a wonderful sense of STYLE

The rest of the day was a long drive along the north coast of Nova Scotia with a stop for groceries and finally to Port Hood, a VERY small town on Cape Breton.  There-in is located the RV Park of Sunset View.  (Sounds like a retirement community.) We normally try to avoid RV Parks as they tend to stack the residents on top of each other somewhat like the Robert Taylor Homes.  It however was the only option on this sparsely populate section of coastline, so in we went.  Not too terribly bad, and there was actually a pretty nice sunset.




Good Night From sunset View RV Park

Brad & Valerie

Fundy In The Funmobile

Arrived at Fundy National Park New Brunswick the evening of the 16th, (late due to the afore-mentioned flat tire).  First task of the morning was the drive back 40 km into Sussex to retrieve a new tire.  Small town tire repair shops on a Saturday morning are a thing of beauty. You meet intriguing and inspirational people... and get soaked for $256.  "Ain't that bad Eh.  You'll getcha' VAT back at the border."  I can't bitch since they did send a guy out on the road on a Friday night when he could have been out tippin' moose or whatever they do here for grins.

Then back again 40 km to the park an another 5 km to the town of Alma.  Drive to town was impressive. A long windey/windy road down the mountain overlooking the Bay of Fundy,

Looking Down Onto The Fog Bank Over The Bay Of Fundy

Post Tsunami Alma

The town is primarily a fishing village which also services the park visitors.  Restaurants are generally seafood caught by local fishermen ... when they can get in the water.

For the historical record, August 17th 2013 is our 45th wedding anniversary.  The extended period of this relationship I owe entirely to Valerie's endless patience.  She's still working on that "diamond in the rough" and hopefully won't carve it all into little pieces before she get's it like she wants it.

Our normal anniversary dinner is to go to Catch 35 in Chicago for a romantic, high end seafood dinner and an evening stroll along the Magnificent Mile.   Since Alma does not have Catch 35, I took her for lunch to Alma's finest seafood establishment instead.

And The Moose Got All The Smoochin

Followed By A Romantic Stroll On the Beach (Alone)

I did however whip up a later evening snack of Brad's (now world) famous eggs over easy to make up the loss.

Good Night From Fundy

Over the Border

The 15th and 16th were travel days from Acadia to Fundy National Park in New Brunswick.  Some good hikes, some awesome views, just what you'd want for a vacation.

A few comments and observations on the transition to Canada.

First, the border crossing. As pass the US Customs center on the other side of the highway you immediately notice about six lanes.  Each is lined with an imposing array of sensors, presumably for explosives, drugs, bio-bad stuff, radiation, oranges, bananas, etc.  Contrasting with the Canadian Customs side with a couple of booths, and a pleasant agent - "name, address, cigs, alcohol, ? - Have a nice day."  I guess nobody wants to destroy Canada.  (except maybe the Quebec'ers)

Metric vs English  -  I'm pretty sure I'm going to get a couple of tickets before we leave Canada.  110 is pretty cool fro getting some place fast  -  like jail.  Of course nothing matches evenly on km vs mph.  Hopefuly they don't split hairs because the km markings on the speedo are grey on black.  Following the flow of traffic doesn't work because drivers range from 10 km under, to the speed of light.  Ho-hum, I'll just plead ignorance and be pretty convincing.

Lastly, I won't even comment on Imperial Gallons.

Oh - and I almost forgot the flat tire in the middle of nowhere.  Forty km's from the nearest town.  Only one establishment in sight and it was an ice cream stand.  What luck!  Called the RV Road Assist Service we subscribe to and they had a truck there before I could finish the second cone.

Following is an assortment of pics along the way.

Good Night From Fundy National Park