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Sunday, September 29, 2013

Who knew...

Retired life was going to be so hectic!  I mean really, I am probably busier than when I worked, and I have no paycheck?!  What's up with that...

Uncle Ronnie and I left Dana and Danny's bundled up in our rain-suits.  We'd been skirting it for days as a tropical depression was moving in from the south.  It was expected to bring huge rains (did) and high winds (ditto), neither particularly conductive to riding curvy roads on the Atlantic coast.  After a brief fuel stop and equipment check in North Sydney, we headed to English town and the short ferry crossing onto the Cabot Trail proper.  There is an alternative (if you get seasick in less than 90 seconds) by road a few miles farther west along the 105.  I'd purchased ferry tickets ($5.50) when crossing at Little narrows the day before.  The boat is barely big enough to hold a dozen cars, and only takes a couple of minutes to cross onto the extended causeway.  It swings, held in place by a thick steel cable, depending which way the tide is running and here in these narrow channels, from lake to sea the current can be fierce.



There was a woman with a dog on one leash and a cat on the other parked in front of us.  Scooping them into her car moments before the boat pulled in, we followed here onto the steel deck.  Steel painted ferry decks, dripping cars and motorcycle tires in heavy rain, is NOT particularly confidence inspiring but like riding on mud, you just don't do anything rash.



The causeway is barely above sea level as you wind your way from the Bras d'Or lake and begin climbing.  Soon we pulled off 312 onto the Trail and stopped for the obligatory photo opportunity.  At this point it wasn't raining hard but certainly gray and overcast with some drizzle.  We rode up to Ingonish Beach and stopped for lunch sitting outdoors so we didn't have to strip from our rain gear.

A couple of points about my experience with the Cabot Trail from previous years.  I've ridden this route dozens of times during my tenure in the Maritime's.  I always loved or at least strongly liked the ride.  Scenic views of the Atlantic, rugged highlands of Cape Breton, twisty roads.  Today, both Ron and I agreed on our description of the ride.

In a word, "boring".

 

Say what!  The Cabot Trail, World Famous as the signs proclaim, and it's boring.  What's up with that.  For Ron, living in the interior of BC, he has hundreds of splendid mountain roads to rides every year, so this is ho hum.  For myself, in 30 years the trees that line the route have grown up and therefore,  blocked the many fabulous views.



The pavement had become very rough and uneven.  No problem on a dualie and at our speeds we were fine but considering that in the meantime, since my last visit, I've ridden the Pacific Coast highway, Malibu canyons, the Trans Peninsular, the Sea to Sky, the Angeles Crest highway, about a thousands mountain passes in the Dolomites, the Pyrenees, the Tatra's and Matra's and of course the Alps... all of which have better pavement, yes... it left me feeling like, the Trail is no longer living up to its billing.

Don't get me wrong.  If you never rode anything else but the CB... and you lumbered around on it with your big inch cruiser, scraping floorboards and wallowing along, you would not know any better.



Like the Trail, I too have aged and in those years, my experience has multiplied a thousand times. 

Once in the park, things improved greatly and this... finally lives up to its hype.  Plenty of turn outs (very few earlier) to take advantage of the views, the ruggedness of the coast, the quality of the pavement was worth the 13 bucks to traverse the National Park.  Once 'round the bend' and on the backside of the Trail, there is a calmer sense of the grandeur to share.  If you only rode from Canso up route 19 to Cheticamp along the west coast, then to Ingonish and turned around back down again with a detour to Baddeck, the trail still has some charm.







We stopped over in Cheticamp intending to ride to Port Hastings.  While filling at the Petro Can... the skies finally opened and within minutes, the streets were running with hard driving heavy rains.  Fifteen minutes waiting for the bulk of the storm to pass, and we went looking for a motel.  Sure it was only 4 pm, but to the South, the sky was ugly!




Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Cape Breton Nova Scotia

Nova Scotia and especially Cape Breton, are filled with tiny sinuous, dinky toy, lead to no-where, lead anywhere paved roads.  If you expand that to dual purpose riding, knock yourself out!

 
After our visit to the fabulous Fortress of Louisburg, Ron and I head to Baddeck for an off- season visit to the Alexander Graham Bell museum and interpretive center.  You see, Mr. Bell and company, built a little summer cottage on the shores of Bras d'Or lake, the largest salt water lake in the world apparently.  To say the riding and scenery are beautiful wouldn't be stretching the truth on any account.  There will be no 'Pinocchio' sized schnozes in my future. 



 


With a light load, both VX 800 and Thunderbird, wound SW along Andrews Channel, highway route 223, through tiny villages and cottage country, amid hills and woods.  The backdrop of the Channel, popped into view regularly to our right and although the pavement is broken up and choppy in places, this is not a high speed superhighway in any case.  More suited to a leisurely day ride than a pseudo road race course.   I say this because it wasn't long ago that a group of promoters were hoping to kick off an Isle of Man TT type race along the shore of Cape Breton.  Last I heard, government regulators and insurance demands killed that one dead as a fly hitting my windshield.  Shame, we could have had our own little Tourist Trophy going on...




We crossed the Grand Narrows to Iona, to a breathtaking view, backwards, darn... and continued riding South West to the Little Narrows ferry.  Having lived for years on Prince Edward Island, which is actually an Island, and spent many vacations traveling to the other coast and Vancouver Island, I was well acquainted to ferry rides. 

This... is nothing like those!  In fact it's very similar to the Arrow Lakes ferry at Needles/Faquier or the crossing of the Red Deer river upstream from Drumheller AB.

Once on the 105, it was but a short hop to Baddeck and lunch and gas, but the vehicle kind not the other...



The G Bell museum is very well done, with a full sized replica of the Silver Dart, the first plane to fly in the British Commonwealth.  There is also a replica and even the hull of the fantastic hydroplane that Bell and "Casey Baldwin' his junior and brilliant protege, designed and built that utlimately reached a speed of more than 70 plus miles per hour!!

 

It's worth a few hours to read the exhibits and watch the short flics detailing the many faucets of Bell's work over his lifetime.  Truly an amazing man, surrounded by other amazing people.



The weather was threatening as we climbed aboard our wheels and followed scenic 206 before we connected back on 105.  By the time we'd reached the Englishtown ferry turn off, we were in the soup.  Not bad mind you, but chilly, cloudy and yes even some wet stuff.  Hey... the Atlantic is only a short hop away, what can you expect!





 

                                              Tomorrow... off to the Cabot Trail...

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Isle Royale and Isle St.-Jean

Isle Royale...


the Island of Cape Breton as we know it today, is the home of one of Canada's most famous man made land marks.  Isle St.-Jean on the other hand is better know as... Prince Edward Island.

When the French agreed to the Treaty of Utrecht, they retired to these two Islands to carry on the cod fishery for France.  In them days, Cod fishing on the Grand Banks was gold for many nations.  When Cabot first visited these waters, he had remarked that "Cod could be lifted from the sea in baskets, that they were so thick as to support a man..." Dried, they were packed by the tons into holds bound for Europe.

Bahhhh bahhhh!




Unfortunately, France and England went to war and the fortress was besieged by a British Naval expedition in 1745, only to be handed back to the French three years later.

Governors chapel


Again in 1758, the British landed an army behind the fortress where is was most vulnerable, and took control once more.  In it's very brief history of only 45 years, the monumental effort in it's construction was all for naught.  The buildings were burned and the walls demolished.  The Brits were here to stay...

By contrast the sleepy town of Louisburg, across the shallow harbor, is a quaint little community of 1200 people.  Bed and Breakfast, motels, restaurants and of course the National Historic (Fort) site are it's major attractions.  When we went through after spending the afternoon wandering the fort, there was nary a soul in sight!

Home Depot, 1744 style.
A good dinner served up at the bright little "Lobster Kettle" literally right on the bay, by* a pleasant and cute young hostess transplanted from Alberta, Terri Vallis, capped off our Louisburg visit.

Quaint

Old dude, Ron.  Young dudette, Terri V.

The weather was great, the ride back to D&D's in North Sydney short and sweet, no one fell off, no one got hurt!

The T Bird, I'd like to mention, gets high 50's and low 60's fuel mileage, and while I'm on that, who in the hel_ came up with that asinine liters per 100 kilometers. Must have been some politician... umm, on second thought, a government bureaucrat, politicians aren't that bright! What would have been wrong with simply kilometers per liter as in miles per gallon?!  Duh!

The VX got only slightly poorer mileage, averaging low to mid 50's.

Visit the Fort some day and step back into 1744...

This is what 4 hours of walking in Prexports does for you!

 * Bay by... sounds like Newfie don't it?











Saturday, September 14, 2013

A Blast from the past!

ONE of the things I liked most about eastern Canada (and USA) and looked forward to upon my triumphant return, is the history.  Sure sure, if you travel Europe, like I did in '02, '08 and '09... you'll see medieval castles, walled cities, ancient churches, Roman bridges, cobble stoned roads and really really old people!

 
I've stayed in pensions and hostales and hotels that were hundreds of years old, maybe even had foundations dating back a thousand years.  By contrast, Calgary buildings are dated in decades and in between we have the Maritime's. 

It's not unusual to see a sign proclaiming "founded in 1767".

Take the Fortress of Louisburg as one example.  Back in the day when French and English colonists were setting across ocean voyages in leaky, rotted wooden sailing vessels that were barely adequate for an English channel crossing, thousands of Frenchmen and women, Scots, Irish, Brits, Portuguese, Spaniards and others were sailing for weeks on storm tossed Atlantic waters, to the "New World". 

These colonists were either skilled in some trade, farmers, shipbuilders, slaves or explorers who, for some reason or other, made the dreadful crossing.  Hundreds of ships were lost in storms, ground to pulp on sandbars or otherwise simply vanished without a trace.


In 1713, three hundred years ago, France, attempting to ward off their English counterparts, who were just as determined to make the new found land their own... began the laborious process of constructing an immense fortress on the SE corner of Cape Breton Island (Nova Scotia/New Scotland.)  This fortress was to house colonists and re-enforce their claim on New France.


Bleak, windswept, lacking clean sources of water, lumber to fuel the new colony, where nary a vegetable would grow, this lonely outpost thousands of miles from the homeland was to be the bastion of French dominion.  In its brief history it was lost to the British twice, when finally the Union Jack dispatched the upstart Frenchies on the continent. 



To be posted to this place must have been hell for the soldiers and common folk.


 

Today, about twenty percent rebuilt... it still looks sombre and bleak, laying just feet above high tide and open to the North Atlantic.




I've visited Louisburg several times over the years and still enjoy wandering the streets, hearing the guides in period costume explain the intricacies of life on the virtual frontier of civilizations. 











Friday, September 13, 2013

Just returned...

Several trips, lots of Blog material... stay tuned!



Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Photos

I'VE always loved snapping photos.  I remember way back having a Kodak Brownie box camera, the type with view ports on top and side.  I graduated into 110 culminating with a Pentax Auto 110, which for those of you that don't know, was a very compact (2"x4") SLR with interchangeable lenses.  I still have that camera although it was ruined when our raft got swamped one year on the Bow when we nearly swamped and turned over down town in Kensington.

I had an Advantix camera for awhile, compact again and with a simple drop-in film canister.  I even had a disc camera (maker unknown) and several equipped to take photos underwater.  Eventually I took to carrying a 35mm SLR during latter travels.

Once digital was introduced, my snapping life changed for the better.  No more worrying about losing a canister or three, or that special shot you took in Cordoba, didn't work out!  When traveling by bike, space is always a prime consideration.  Modern digitals from my first logitech, which held 80 photos and no way of viewing them, is still in use as Brenda's skype camera.  I've had many since those early digital days, they are compact, can store a huge amount of photos, are adjustable and like my Olympus, sometimes even waterproof.

My photo albums (remember those) are stuffed full of thousands of prints, that cost horrendous amounts of money to print, and my database has tens of thousands of digital images I have emailed all over the world.

Here's a few from the past...

Playa las Cocos

Catavina

My little sweetie!

Adventure scooter in AZ

Taken with 35 SLR from 100' Okanagan Valley

On the way to Crown King

Yes I too once had a HOG before they became Rolex's

Old Blue in Baja

World's largest erratic Okotoks AB

Dad and the kid camping XT 600 SR 185

Ed and Irma

The bad lands of Alberta

Me and my A.G.F.

Hol and her ZUMA!

Friends at the Tyrell Museum

Bahia Conceptione first view!

Japanese pal Kazue and her Savage!

Soaking up the rays near San Felipe Baja

Rob on the Spray Lakes Trail, Rockies

Jod and I after the Bear Tooth Pass Montana/Wyoming

7716 after a huge dump of snow

Long Way Down... Sheep River/Gorge Creek Trail

Lis and I after riding the Seca to L.A.

Yes... you can take it all with you.



Ain't she sweet!  Now married, to moi!

Diversion arriving in Italia!

Rocky Mtn high!

Just another gorgeous Baja morning.

Tiger Moth

My best pal ever! RIP Einstein