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| Last of the Blue skies! |
I don't know what the weather department has against us!?
The one week of the year we have to ourselves I like to plan a ride off the Island. Cape Breton was off limits with rainy, windy and cool temperatures, the U.S. was a NO-GO, Brenda's passport had expired this year, the south Shore of N.S. was feeding the weather to Cape Breton, so it wasn't viable, but New Brunswick was at least promising. Temperatures were forecast in the mid twenties, the rain moving up from New England was three days away and by careful route planning we could do 1200 kilometers in a circumnavigation of the Province, while staying ahead of the rain by a solid 24 hours, maybe even 36!
N.B. it is!
The plan was working well enough, we were on the road following the Fundy coast, had been to Cape Enrage and Hopewell Rocks and we were just about to enter Fundy National Park on our way to
Sussex
Corner and then onto the back-roads again to St Martin. What I hadn't counted on was road construction and lots of it too.
We barely entered the park when we came to our first flagman stop going up the hill. This was followed by several more well before S.C.
At one point we dropped off pavement into several inches of travel, and it was beginning to sprinkle. Our clothing is rain resistant but not water proof. The only thing waterproof I was wearing was my Birthday Suit! After a few miles of deep gravel with a looming black cloud ahead, we were stopped first in line by a flagman. He said they had just left and we would have to wait the return of the Lead car. That's about when the cloud burst like a fully filled balloon. It was nearly 15 minutes before the highway's truck arrived with a line of vehicles a mile long behind her and by then we were completely soaked through!
Now, the road was not only 6" deep gravel but it was muddy to boot. Let me tell you, riding a bike weighing close to 600 pounds with gear, plus myself and a passenger, can be a real hoot on gravel roads and here we were on muddy gravel roads to make matter worse. Take into account we are sopping wet, the bike is tip toe for me and wandering on the loose surface and you can just imagine how thrilled I was.
Eventually we returned to pavement, the sun came out and we were getting air dried as we rode.
By now we are running late so with consultation with my passenger, we decide to forego route 111 to St. Martin and head towards St. John on the TCH.
Dodging thundershowers we tried accommodation in several locations, all full.
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| The Granite Hotel in St. George NB |
We finally found a cute little hotel (the Granite) in St. George and pulled off taking their last available room, just after 8 pm. By then we'd covered 500km in varying weather and I have to say I was knackered!
Walking a few blocks to a local pub and grill,, getting there minutes before closing time at 9 we had ourselves a fast meal and returned in near darkness to our hotel.
The weather was on everyone's minds. The talk of the town was this massive front was coming faster than predicted and would arrive 24 hours early by tomorrow morning.
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| Soaked! |
Guess what... once again, with their billions of dollars worth of Radar, satellite, storm trackers etc... they were wrong yet again.
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| Yeah... it's not looking good for Brenda and I. |
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| woke to this... |
I lay in bed listening to thunder, watching lightning light up the sky like a fourth of July event and rain coming down in buckets all night long.
Next morning, still hopeful we may find some sunshine to salvage our week, I scoured the weather channel to no avail.
Completely socked in and raining in huge downpours. Having delayed our departure by several hours, sitting in a warm hotel room with this immense gray leaden sky all around us, we finally gave in, got out the rain gear and headed out to the highway looking for the leading edge of the front. We back tracked to S.J. where I got lost... and by which time I was soaked through to my arse... finally asking directions at a used car lot getting us back on course.
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| Hampton tourist information/old railway station many of which survive in the Maritimes |
I departed the highway at Hampton after out running the rain, an hour back. We squished our way first to a local tourist information office in the old railway station (nice to see these old buildings preserved in such a way) and given directions to
Kredl's corner market and garden center, where we stopped for a short rest and lunch. Short it was too as pretty soon the drops warning of of the upcoming rain, forced us back in the saddle and onto the road. By this time we had caught up and passed the rain front and were out again in semi sunshine.
Feeling short changed, I stuck to the divided highway, something I absolutely abhor doing, and pushed on to the Island.
Our four day adventure was cut short by two days and one of those was spent mostly hunkered down on the freeway getting pelted by fierce winds and rain.
Such is the life of a motorcycle tourist.
