Adventures in Photography and Travel

For the past ten days I have unable to post a blog; my battery went dead and would not recharge.  Anywhere I checked, they didn’t have a battery and could only offer to order it; and so, I trudged on stopping from time to time and attempting to buy a replacement without success.

Three days ago (in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia) I struck pay-dirt and was able to buy a new battery from a computer repair shop.  Problem solved (or so I thought).  Following the computer Guru’s advice, I ran the battery down before attempting to recharge it.  Unfortunately though, it would not recharge; back to square one!

I’m now back the USA (Camden, Maine), and this morning I was able to get the battery charger replaced and so, things are looking brighter.

This evening I’ll begin (a condensed version) of the last ten days through Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, Labrador and back through Nova Scotia and New Brunswick.

 

The Maritime Provinces are comprised of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, while Newfoundland and Labrad or are considered as the Atlantic Provinces.  There are of course many smaller islands that are also included as part of the Maritimes, but the bulk of the population of the Maritimes comes from New Brunswick, Nova Scotia

Entry to the island is via the Confederation Bridge, no small undertaking; this 8 mile span is quite an impressive sight.

From the start my plan has been to have no plan.  And so, while exploring the map on way through New Brunswick on route to Nova Scotia, I discovered just how close and accessible Prince Edward Island was; I knew I had to go!

It was a good decision!  I had no Idea what to expect, but as the map showed such a hodge-podge of what I thought were cities, my vision was that the whole island was sort of one big city, sort of a mini New York City (ya, right!).  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Prince Edward Island (PEI, as it is called) is composed mostly of farm land, rolling hills of beautiful little patches of green.  The major crop of the island is potato, and when you pass a tractor in the field working the land, this peaceful pastoral setting harkens back to a simpler time and slower pace of life.  The people are a friendly and helpful lot; and at the campground were I stayed for all three of my nights on the island they gathered together sing gospel and country music with an open “mike” – very folksy!

As one travels over the roads of the island you frequently pass by signs seemingly identifying a village, but there is no village only three or four houses (or less) and nothing more.  Much of the island is limited to an 80 km/hr speed limit (50 mph) and often when you pass through one of these villages the speed limit drops to 50 km/hr.

Divided into three parts, central, east and west, the highways circle and connect with each part of the island.  Most (but not all) of the side roads are paved as well; it is a paradise for a motorcycle.  There are light houses all over the island which exist mostly for their historic value and as a tourist attraction (although some of are maintained as working lighthouses with light keeper and all).

There are two wind farms on the island; the larger of (the West Cape Wind Farm) is quite sizeable.  I was told that with the benefit of a brisk Atlantic wind, ten wind mills can generate enough power for 12,000 homes, but I’m still skeptical!).

Charlottetown is the biggest city on the island, with a population of almost 100,000 people.  A drive down Water Street is all one needs to see the cities lively spirit.

That morning I left the campground on the northwest end of the Gaspe Peninsula with plans heading for Saint Quentin, New Brunswick.

It was the 8th of July and for the 29th year Saint Quentin was to begin their annual Western Festival (Rodeo) on the July the 9th.  I was pretty sure that it was not a show to rival the famed Calgary Roundup in Alberta, Canada; but as a six day event that has been going on for 29 years; I figured that it must be a very substantial indeed.

The ride took me through the National Park and it reminded me very much of the area around Squaw Valley (the site of the 1960 and 1982 Winter Olympics) where I lived for a year in what seems a lifetime ago.  These were not the Rockies but the heavily forested range of mountains and the winding rivers provided the vision.

By the time I reached Saint Quentin it was dusk and it was not difficult to find a campsite on grounds if the Festival site, but I was quickly disappointed to hear that the rodeo part of the six day festival was scheduled for the final two days only!  It was clear that nothing involving a horse was going to happen for a few days.  There was not a horse or horse trailer in sight.

My disappointment considerable, everyone assured me that the rodeo was a fun event, but I had no plans of waiting four more days for it to happen.  Fortunately, Saint Quentin was only about seventy miles (one way) off route of travel.

After tending to various chores (including blogging) it was 3:00 PM before I left Saint Quentin, and headed back east to take the coastal route along the Atlantic shore line.

My return was same highway 17 that I had taken Saint Quentin through the heavily forested range of mountains approaching 2000 feet of elevation.  The area was very sparsely settled and I remembered that the day before I had been warned to be sure to gas-up before embarking Saint Quentin, few houses equal NO gas stations.

The homes of New Brunswick (and the Gaspe Peninsula as well) were in stark contrast to the larger more prodigious homes to the north of the St. Lawrence Seaway.  The homes of New Brunswick seemed to generally smaller and there appear to be fewer new homes.  In stark contrast to the Quebec City area, realty signs appeared more present; perhaps, a testament to what I can only guess is a less stable economy.

I was told more than once that there are no jobs outside the lumber, farming, fishing and tourism (during the summer season); even so, they appear to be a happy lot, but appearances can be deceptive, especially to the passing tourist.

Places along the route have away of disrupting plans; my intent had been to leave from Amqui and travel directly into New Brunswick, but I kept hearing good things about the Gaspe Peninsula and lure was too much – I had to go.

The Gaspe Peninsula thumb-like projection that extends out from Quebec’s land mass to the south of the great waterway and reaches into the mouth of the St. Lawrence Seaway.   One of the main attractions of the peninsula is Perce Rock that lies just of the shore of the city of Perce.

After riding all day, dusk was approaching and I was still a few short miles from the site.  The site itself no longer seemed important; I needed to find a campsite before dark.  Although there had been plenty of campgrounds (or so it seemed) when was just riding and not actually looking for site; but now it seemed as if they had all magically disappeared!

I thought that surely as I got closer to Perce Rock that the attraction of the site would surely yield a campground.  Fortunately, this time I was right; I found a small campground that was located only a few kilometers from the site (although I wasn’t sure at the time).

The next morning I got up early, dressed and left promptly for Perce Rock.  I wasn’t sure what the morning light would bring, but knew that it was certain to be better than what the midday sun would bring and I had high hopes of getting good photos.

My only disappointment with the results was the fact that I left my 500 mm lens behind (the lens and the required tripod just took up more space than my Harley would allow).  Being limited as I was to shooting from the shore line, the 500 mm lens would have been a great asset (Note too self: find a way to bring the tripod and lens on future trips); even so, you can judge for yourself as to the results.

After spending an hour or two photographing the Rock and various other sites (see the old barn and light house) I returned to clean-up and shower before returning back to Perce to see what else the day would bring.

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When I returned in the afternoon I learned of boat trip that traverse the rock and head to the nearby island of Bonaventure.  After circling Bonaventure, the trip promised to stop off at the island for exploration before returning back to the Gaspe Peninsula (all for $20 – I was in!).

The boat gave a close up glimpse of the Perce Rock (as well as a view from the other side) and a chance to tour the Bonaventure Island; all of which would have otherwise been missed.

• 

  Willy Guy Gaudreault

  

  On the Way to Amqui

  

  On the Way to Amqui

  

  Routhierville Bridge

  

  On the Way to Amqui

  

  Approaching Ferry Boat

  

  The Road to Tadoussac

  

  Riviere Aux Canards – Near Tadoussac

  

  Riviere Aux Canards – Near Tadoussac

  

  Riviere Du Saguanay

  Up to this time I’ve been to the North of the St. Lawrence Seaway, but that’s about to change.  I need to catch a ferry and make the trek; the only question is, which ferry crossing (there are numerous choices).  Lucky for me I met another cycle rider while bouncing from traffic light to traffic light east of Quebec.  We agreed to stop for a coffee and friendly conversation.  Willy Guy Gaudreault is builder, carpenter and perhaps one might even add that most coveted title – entrepreneur.  He was just out for a ride when we met up, and he guided me along the way for several miles and advised me as to best crossing point and route of travel as continued my way south toward New Brunswick.

We continued east for a few miles before he had to reverse and make his way back to Quebec.  I give many thanks to Willy Guy for all his helpful advice.  I hope we meet and ride again some day; perhaps, when he goes or returns from Sturgis on his planned expedition next summer (let me know Willy!).

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I chose to continue to Tadoussac where the Riviere Du Saguenay enters the St. Lawrence Seaway.  Willy had told me what a nice ride it was through the mountains edging the seaway to the way to Tadoussac, and even though the mountains are by no means as spectacular it was at times easy to imagine that you were riding through British Columbia and not Quebec.

Tadoussac is just across the Riviere Du Saguenay and to get there you must take the ferry across the Saguenay (it’s free and runs about every 30 minutes).  The Saguenay is famous for its fjords and you can take cruises up and explore the sites (but, one just has to draw the line somewhere).

Tadoussac is well known as a whale sighting area and that was a major reason for my choosing Tadoussac.  There are nearby locations where pay around $7 for the chance to see whales as close as 60 meters from the shore or you can to go out on boat.  In either case there is no guarantee that you will see whales and not even any predictable “prime times” for sightings.  From what I have been told they are mostly unpredictable.

In any case, even though I would love to see a whale, without my telephoto lens and tripod, it would be folly to try to get a decent photograph of a whale from even as close as 60 meters (which was probably the best that I could hope to get from shore or even a boat).

That being said, the next morning I crossed Saguenay River for a second time via the ferry and headed for the hour and a half ferry crossing from Saint-Simeon to Riviere Du Loup (following Willy Guy’s suggestion).

My original plan had been to travel straight south and promptly enter New Brunswick at Edmundston, but again following Willy’s suggestion I bore to the southeast intending to follow the coastal route along the Atlantic seaboard of New Brunswick.  The distance was too great and I ended the day at a campground on the edge of Amqui, Quebec still a few miles from New Brunswick.

 

 

My time in Quebec City was spent mostly within the walls of olds city just walking taking pictures along the way.  When I left I did it with some trepidation, I knew there was much more to see both within and outside the walls of the city.  I felt myself severely handicapped linguistically and justified my leaving with the thought of returning on the way back to Michigan (even then, I knew my thoughts were a lie!).

And so, I’ll let the pictures do the talking, with apologies to that great city for not having done a better job of glorifying its greatness.

After leaving Gananoque I traveled for another two days (Very slowly!) observing the sites and taking a few pictures before entering Quebec Province at last.

It was Monday July 1st, and officially Canada Day.  I continued to follow the St. Lawrence Seaway until, for some unknown reason, I felt that urgency to go to Ottawa (like the mountain climbers say when asked why they climb – “Because it’s there!”) and that’s why went to Ottawa.

To me, Ottawa had a college town atmosphere, young adults walking the streets, standing outside the bars and coffee shops with seemingly not a care in the world.

I other hand, was lost!  Not totally lost, I knew I was in Ottawa, but where in Ottawa I was, why I came here in the first place and how to get out of the city was a different matter.  I stopped at one of the busy corner coffee shops to ask for advice as to how to get out of Ottawa and on my way too and through Montreal.

My first taste of rebuff!  After ordering a coffee and finding a table; I asked for directions out of the city.  Or at least I tried too.  Unfortunately, I forgot my manners; instead of asking, “Excuse me, could you perhaps help me?”  I abruptly inquired, “Can you tell me how to find the road to Montreal?”  Big mistake!  She quickly raised her hand in rebuke, without saying a word; she didn’t have too – the message was clear.  I tucked my tail between my legs and went back to somberly drinking my coffee.

My second effort was remarkably more successful; when I politely asked a couple of gentlemen if they could help me – Bingo!  They not only helped me with directions, but engaged me in conversation; inquiring as to where I was from, where I was going and examining my Harley parked nearby.  Amazing what a little bit of tack and manners will do.

Unlike Ottawa, I had no desire to visit or spend time in Montreal.  I’m sure that there must be much to see and do in Montreal, but my mind was set on Quebec City, of which I heard so much and I was getting anxious.

Quebec Province is another world or at least in practical terms another country.  For years there has been talk (and some serious regarding Quebec’s seeking independence from Canada, but no such action thus far.  Truly, I know nothing about the situation; but one would think that it would difficult and seemingly unwise, in purely economic terms for Quebec to do so, and an equal disaster for Canada.

From my experience Quebec is a treasure and should be treated as such.  Prior to my travel here, I had the preconceived bias that the French Canadians of Quebec were standoffish, rude and snobbish.  Happily I can report that from my experience nothing could be further from the truth.  Even though I speak barely a word of French, the natives of Quebec have been kind, understanding and exceedingly helpful.

It was mid-afternoon when I arrived in Quebec City and late afternoon by the time I found a camp site and set-up tent, but I was eager to see the city and so, off I went.

The old walled city is over 400 years old, having first been settled by the French in 1608.  As impressive as the walls of the city are, it is the architecture of the buildings within the walls that is most captivating.  With

the waning hours of daylight left I decided to spend my time just exploring and taking only a few pictures in order to see as much as possible (tomorrow would provide ample opportunity for taking pictures).

Before I left the campground I was told that there would be a free Cirque De Soleil show provided by the City of Quebec and I was intent on see it (Free or not, but free was GOOD!).

All I can say is that the show was spectacular and I returned to the campground late that evening looking forward to the next day.

 

Gananoque, the small where I spent the last weekend heralds itself as “The Gateway to the Thousand Islands”, and I’ll take their word for it.  One thing for sure they have some great old homes, many of which are huge, featuring beautiful cut stone and a surprising number of mansard roofs.  I’ve never been overly fond of mansard roofs, but they seem to fit the

territory and they somehow begin to grow on you.   Being it was Canada Day weekend the area was thriving with tourists and locals just out for a good time.  The town park was set-up for weekend with the annual Rotary Arts & Crafts Show, complete with music, food, arts and crafts, and of course BEER!

After listing to some great, combination of country, folk and rock music and exploring the crafts I went motorcycle ride (having avoided the beer) to view some of the town’s great old homes and too just cruise the area.

Cruising took me to the ferry boat to Howe Island where after a ride around a small part of the island I returned back to Gananoque via another ferry boat landing (at no extra cost).

The Saint Lawrence Seaway is a great river and felt fortunate to have “miscued” and gotten off the main, traffic laden, four lane highways and onto H

ighway 2.  Had it not been for the holiday weekend and the difficulty of finding an available campground I would have missed some great sites.

It’s now the morning July 4 (Happy 4th of July everyone!) and I’m just preparing to leave Quebec City; my next blog will applaud that great city.

 

My “Home” at the Pine Crest Resort

Scenery Along the St. Lawrence Seaway

Finally I’m “on the road again.”  I left yesterday (actually Friday morning now) morning and crossed into Canada over the Blue Water Bridge from Port Huron, Michigan to Sarnia, Canada.

Upon entering I was quickly advised that Ontario Province is a helmet law state (“Sorry officer they didn’t say anything at the border when I went through customs“).

Luckily, he let me go with just a warning; probably in the interest of helping to promote tourism and to do his part in helping to US/Canada relations.  Even so, he advised me that the tickets were “$160 a POP!” (I shall adhere).

Actually, I started the day with the helmet on, but after riding helmet-less for most of the summer the helmet felt almost unbearable.  And so, I abandon it with the intent of slowly re-acclimating to the routine of wearing the helmet (while traveling at least).

The day was rain plagued from early afternoon on-off with conditions which produced a chilly, but still bearable ride.  As the rain became more intense, I located (with a little helpful advice) a KOA Campground just east of London and about 130 miles west of Toronto, pitch the tent and was in the sack by about 9:30.

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About 2 in the afternoon and I stopped for a break and a chance to get out a short blog.  The”OnRoute”(one of the scores of travel stops that dot Canada’s “interstate” highway system) where I stopped is some 40 miles east of Toronto.

The day had been quite uneventful (perhaps, a good thing) even though the passage through the area known the “Green Belt” was quite engaging.  Earlier in the day I was very tempted (when I passed the turn-off for the escarpment area of the Niagara Falls) to turn south, but one has to make choices.  You just can’t see it all!

During the stop I made plans to continue on and pass through Kettering (another 120 miles) and proceed to Ottawa in Quebec province. Upon entering Kettering, however, I decided find a campground and discover what Kettering was all about.

Easier said than done!  I seems that this is a holiday weekend, July 1st is Canada Day (equivalent to our 4th of July); and as a result the campgrounds are mostly filled.

I stopped at motel and inquired as to where might I might find a campground (having been turned away at the KOA).  He gave me directions to two possible locations, and upon further inquiry advised me that “He had one room available for $75.  Very reasonable if all else fails – but, I’d better HURRY!

The first of his two recommended choices was a bust, but the second was an unexpected pleasure.

The drive to the campground was along the shore of the St. Lawrence Seaway (although the river itself was seldom visible) was pure pleasure.  North of the highway, there were rolling hills with beautiful small farms complete with the requisite red barns reminiscent of the simpler times of America’s now (sadly) bygone past.

The campground itself is a quaint site (to keep it kindly!) due for further exploration on another day.  For the time being my chief concern was to find some gas.  Not wishing to go to bed having that worry on my mind, I rode down the road looking for the town (with a name that was unintelligible to my untrained ears).

I found the gas, but so much more.  But that’s fodder for another day.

The days are passing and so is the summer.  As life would have it, some issues have garnered my attention and delayed the planned departure (via motorcycle) for the New England coast and Canada temporarily; but that situation is about to change.

My plan had been to leave around the first of this June, head east to Virginia Beach, turn north for Atlantic City and proceed to Connecticut and Rhode Island (to complete the “50” states of union); and finish the trip off by prowling the Maritime Provinces of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland followed by Labrador and Quebec before returning to Michigan.  There are still “issues” of concern, but that’s just life and one can’t let that slow one down (at least not to a crawl or a complete stop).

Having said that, I’m still here as are those damned “issues”; it was May when I started this post and just today, after taking a second look at the map, I realized that it’s a long ways to Newfoundland and even further to Labrador.  Also, as an interesting side note – did you know that Labrador City is just west of Greenland and about the same distance from Nunavut (the northern most territory of Canada)?   Kind of intimidating even too me (and I’m not easily intimidated).

Clearly, I’ve wasted precious time and as a result I’m already getting “cold feet”(pun intended).

One thing for sure, the planned trek will be reversed – Canada first before turning south for New England (to avoid potential weather concerns).  Perhaps (I thought) I should buy a map or two and actually do some planning; therefore, I ordered a Labrador map through Amazon for rush delivery tomorrow.  At issue, of course, is the question of paved roads.  I’ll get back to you once the map arrives and study it for a bit.