Update 18: Cape Breton

Update 18:  Cape Breton, Nova Scotia  July 29-Aug. 4, 2010

The rain came in buckets as Derrille hooked up the car in Truro. The storm continued to pelt the RV as we headed north to Cape Breton Island...the north end of Nova Scotia. The forceful wind added another dimension to the drive. Deciduous, hardwood forests follow the highway on each side. From time to time marshes appear with grass and cattails.  Sometimes the forests give way to the views of the water. The small islands continue to lay just beyond the shoreline.

As we near the approach to Cape Breton a huge sign warns driver to Watch for Blowing Snow the next 2 km!  We assume this is a winter warning: however the wind gusts slam in from the sea all year long.
The Canso Causeway lies low to the water. Rock reinforcement supports the road and bulkhead leading to the bridge that connects Cape Breton to the rest of Nova Scotia.

Exit numbers start over on the island, but like the rest of Nova Scotia, they happen sequentially with no regard to mileage intervals. We appreciate areas where distance can be calculated with exit numbers matched to miles.  Exit 8 could be 8 km up the road or 80 km.....makes navigation fun! :)

The KOA campground overlooks the Bras d'Or Lake. Bras d'Or means Arms of Gold. The lake is not really a lake. An opening near the south part of the island opens into the Atlantic.

Two good size islands sit out from the campground making the water formation more of a strait than a lake.  Other islands dot the waterway as well.  The lighthouse is visible between the two islands that we see from the RVs.

Terraced sites allow unobstructed views of the water, the islands and a lighthouse on the far bank.

In the 125 km (about 75 miles) between the causeway and the KOA, the forest become denser and squeezes in close to the road.  At first glance the terrain resembles the northwest. The exceptions include smaller evergreens stunted by the short growing season, and a higher percentage of deciduous trees. We can only imagine the beauty of rich fall colors that must flood the countryside.




Cape Breton Island includes many islands of various sizes divided around the Bras d' Or Lake.  Ferries and bridges provide access between the isolated lands. Shaped somewhat like a starfish the lake creates bays, harbors, channel and straits between its outlet in the south, and the one just north of our campground.  Creeks and streams flow to the lake often creating ponds and sloughs. These waterways often settle on the sides of the highway. Ducks paddle around in the sunshine moving  in and out of the grassy edges. Rivers invite kayakers to explore their serene tree lined waterways.

We set out on an overcast day toward the east, again following the shoreline. We bumped along the rough roads to North Sydney. The ferry to Newfoundland resembled an ocean liner.  Looking more like a small cruise ship, the ferry waited while rows of cars and RVs lined up for loading. Our neighbors in the campground didn't make early reservations and had to wait ten days for a chance to board.

We passed through Sydney, one of the capes largest cities  on our way to the town of Glace Bay. This large violin sat on the dock next to their performing arts center. We found it interesting.

When Marconi conceived the idea of  the wireless telegraph, the Atlantic Cable supports applied pressure and forced Marconi to leave Newfoundland. Nova Scotia recognized the potential for wireless communication and invited him to come there. They gave him land and helped him set up his lab in Glace Bay. He continued working and eventually established a wireless connection with his labs in Ireland, England and France and changed communication forever.  Later he had to relocate in another area of Nova Scotia, but here at Glace Bay a one room interpretative center tells his story.

In tiny Port Morien a yard display included a character made of stuffed clothing with a witty sign nearby. Soon we saw another display, and another. Down main street every house hosted some kind of display. There we realized the displays reflected "Morien Memories" with random thoughts or opinions. The displays certainly entertained us as we drove through the area.  We found the participation of nearly the whole town in this project to be commendable.

The fog descended by the time we reached Louisbourg.  The fortress located just across a small bay remained hidden by the fog. The road then turned inland and we decided to try a different course. Red sand appeared in some places like the kind we saw in PEI. Several one lane wooden bridges occurred along our path. The quality of the road declined bumping us up and down as well as from side to side. Riding in a buckboard may have been smoother. When a "Rough Road Ahead" signs popped up we looked at each other and wondered "rougher"?  I would like to suggest "Good Road Ahead" signs. It could save the province money since fewer of them would be needed.  We returned home disappointed with the weather and today's travels.

The sun shone brightly the next morning. A few puffy white clouds drifted about. The promise of a great day helped us decide to check out the Fortress Louisbourg, the largest reconstructed 18th century town in North America.  The French came to Louisbourg in 1713. The fishing industry quickly made Louisbourg the busiest seaport in New France.  The French build the fortress on the lowland next to the bay: an nearly indefensible location. Requests to France for stronger defenses were denied. The French just wanted the fish that Louisbourg provided. The French supplied the people of Louisbourg with all their needs. Even flour wasn't made there. To make anything on your own for profit was a crime.Then the English attacked the fortress in 1753 and gained control. When the Acadian people refused to swear allegiance to English the great deportation began. In 1755 the Acadians were deported back to France or to one of the New England colonies.  Some went to Louisianna.  Three years later the French regained control of the Louisbourg.  Most of the people returned as if nothing happened. The request for better defenses still was denied. By 1760 the English were again in control.  This time they dismantled the fortress piece by piece saving the precious building supplies to be used elsewhere. The Fortress was demolished and lay in ruin.

In the mid-sixties archaeologists began uncovering the remains of the fortress.  With painstaking accuracy they rebuilt over 60 buildings.  Costumed interpreters tell the story of daily life in the  fortress of 1744. A fisherman's wife greets visitors as they step off the shuttle bus from the reception center.   The fisherman's house becomes the first stop.

Next the path winds by the shore and up to the fortress gate. A sentry questions where you are from and "decides" whether or not you may pass through the gate. The guard house sits just inside the main gate with quarters for the officer in charge.  Buildings rise up the hillside. The path widens into one of the two roads that run parallel to the water.

Three streets run up the hill to the King's Bastion Ramparts and governor's apartments: A much sturdier and more defensible structure in town. A lovely chapel exists there too. 

To maintain the "authentic" feel, no reader boards or modern signs appear outside the buildings. The park map denotes bathrooms which are hidden within the buildings. No description of the three period restaurants appear anywhere, and they are difficult to locate, as was the one deli that provided modern food. The map labeled the buildings but no descriptions were given regarding their use or the people who occupied the homes.  We would have appreciated a more informative brochure. The costumed interpreters provided excellent information.  

 The gardener spent time talking about the gardens and the plants and their uses. We did listen to a tour guide at one stop and in retrospect would have liked to take advantage of that service.  If a building had a live person, other information was not given. Some building without interpreters did have visual displays.

We observed a live demonstration complete with fife and drum corps, and the firing of muskets and a canon. After three to four hours exploring the fortress we returned to the car.

Clouds quickly moved  in as we drove around the bay to the lighthouse. The waves crashed with rhythmic beauty as they crashed against the rocky cliff. This part reminded us of the Oregon coast.

Cape Breton Highlands National Park occupies the northwest end of the island. The Cabot Trail considered the jewel of Nova Scotia circumvents 300 km around this part of the island and includes the Highlands National Park.  A shortcut from our campground to the Cabot trail put us another road that disappeared into a dirt ferry ramp. This little ferry trip of maybe ten minutes took across 200-300 yards of water and delivered us to a sand spit.  A short drive down the sand spit connected with he main trail highway. Gift shops spread out along the route offered either a specific craft like pottery, leather, glass, etc. or a variety of souvenir things.  The Funky Hat Shoppe caught our curiosity. Lynn and I found hats that "Mame", the "Mad Hatter", or "Dr. Zhivago" characters would like, camping hats, sports hats, fur trimmed and camouflage fedoras, baby crocheted sweaters and hats, dresses, vests and jewelry. The well made things invited us to try on and consider.  Fun to look at, too pricey to own.

We had been used to seeing signs in French and English throughout Ontario, New Brunswick and Quebec.  Here the signs are in English and Gaelic.

We also found the automatic flagman in several locations with all of the summer road construction.

At one lookout we found this pink and white granite with clear quartz, pink and white feldspar and shiny black and white mica in it.

Farther up the road the Ingonish area attracts summer visitors for water fun.  Winter visitors come to Ingonish to ski down the hillside slopes. We stopped at the Cape Breton Highlands Park office which is located at Ingonish.  The "office" currently exists in a trailer while the main entrance undergoes a remodeling. People can just zip by the office without purchasing a pass just as easy as they can stop in. Hmmm The cute ranger highlighted area that may interest us.  We drove in and out of all the little harbors that open directly to the Atlantic. The lookouts offered incredible sights.

 An alternative scenic route took us out to White Point on the northeast corner of Cape Breton. We ate lunch by White Point's tiny harbor watching the fishing boats bob in the water under a cloudless sunny day. 

We then went to Cape North and took the alternate drive north to Bay of St. Lawrence town. The little town on the north edge of land have carved out a very narrow harbor entry that we found interesting.  Beyond this harbor the road travels along the edge of land just above the water like Highway 1 in California. 

Somewhere in the northern end of the park we stopped to visit a boreal marsh. A short walk with reader boards took around the area. Wild orchids grow here. The pitcher plant a carnivorous plant enjoys living here too. I love this photo of the water lily flower.

The road ends at Meat Cove the most northern place on Cape Breton.  The drive there was rewarded with spectacular views. 

We spoke to several people there. One couple told us of walking the Skyline Trail and seeing moose, a bear and whales.  So this became our next destination...right after dinner.  We drove to Cheticamp an Acadian town on the northwest side of the cape for dinner. 

Then we returned to the Skyline Trail.  The trail description stated 2-3 hour hike, 5-7 mile loop, 950-1330 foot elevation climb.  The guys took off at a brisk pace.  Lynn and I came along behind. We had no intention of hiking today, but the chance to see a moose drove us on.  One lady descending the trail said the trail was flat so no problem for us.  Well.....the trail was flat in the smooth sense, but it did go up hills and down.  For regular walkers/hikes this would be a piece cake.  For me...not so much.  However, a short ways into the hike we rounded the corner and saw a momma moose with her good size calf.  They stood about 75 feet away from us grazing peacefully, and obviously used to seeing people on the trail. Energized by the sighting we moved on.  As I glanced through a thicket of branches the unmistakable huge rack of a bull moose appeared.  We hurried around the grove to get a better picture, but he had disappeared down the embankment.  Derrille and Jay experienced seeing all of him for a short time. Adrenalin charged we hurried down the path.

Suddenly we arrived at the end of the trail and  bluff above the sea. The sun began to sink lower into the sky preparing to end this day. The four of us walked back to the car. The Bull Moose never reappeared, but a large pack of coyotes howled into the approaching night. The sound kept me moving forward as fast a I could.  Not being a hiker, I needed to stop every once in awhile and catch my breath. Lynn needed to use her inhaler.

Mama moose and her baby had crossed the trail, and continued munching as we passed.  Darkness surrounded us a we returned to the car.  We traveled the remaining part of the Cabot Trail in the dark, and arrived back at the RVs after 11 PM.

We treated ourselves to a late start the next morning before driving the short distance to the town of Baddeck. The Canadian Historical Site for Alexander Graham Bell overlooks the Baddeck Harbor. The entry level to the center has four interactive video displays with overviews the various areas of his life. Then those areas are highlighted throughout the center.

 The Scotland born Bell moved with his family to Ontario Canada for health reasons when Alexander was a young child. Both his grandfather and father shared an interest in phonetics and spoken communication that they passed on to Alexander.  Combining that interest and the fact his mother was going deaf, Alexander possessed a strong desire to help the blind and deaf communicate better.  He accepted a teaching job in Washington, D.C.  At night he worked on his experience which led to the invention of the telephone.He married one of his deaf and wealthy students, Mabel when she turned eighteen. They enjoyed a long and happy life together.  To escape the social commitments of 1900 century D.C. they build a house in Nova Scotia. Here he continued his pursuits of exploration into boats and planes.  Lynn and I were amazed at the number of things credited to him.  Some of his invention on display have unknown purposes yet today.

Derrille and I felt he wasn't the "inventor" that other of this age were, but he could take an invention or an idea and make it better. He worked well with others, and thus used the more heads is better than one theory. He also had the money and time to work out his ideas. He worked with Helen Keller, who felt his influence most helpful to her life. According to the center, Bell didn't feel that the telephone was his best gift to the world, but rather his work with the deaf and blind.  The family home is still occupied by family member in Baddeck. 

 We left the center and drove to the harbor where we had lunch and declared this the official end of our Cape Breton visit.

We stayed in Truro, our midpoint destination, for one more night on our way to New Brunswick.We  anxiously went in search of the place to watch a "tidal bore". Although quite early, people began to gather. We opted for fast food and a fast return. The rain fell lightly on and off during the hour we waited. We spoke with others and compared notes about we knew of the tidal bore.

When a large amount of water is forced into a narrow, shallow stream, a tidal bore may result. The stream flow out to the sea. When the incoming tide rushes toward the stream and hits the outgoing current, the incoming force rolls a wave over the top of the outgoing current, rapidly filling the small basin or stream. The most dramatic bores may be a few feet high, and occur during a full or new moon. We had been told the wave should be about 18 inches this day, someone else had be told 1-2 inches. The light rain continued to mist down and people took shelter on the porch of a small interpretative center. E waited.The scheduled time came....and went. We all waited. We watched the 50-70 seagulls dig in the sandbar or float by on the trickle of stream current. Suddenly.....every bird rose almost in unison and took flight.  We knew it was coming.

A very small 1-2 inch silver wave moved steadily over the surface of the creek.

By carefully following the ripple in the surface, visitors could watch its rapid progression up stream.

It sent out a backlash of waves as it careened into the bend of the creek. It rippled and swirled around an old piece of metal flue in the water and quickly made it disappear.  In a matter of minutes the small area was full of water where only mud had been before.

Interesting but not spectacular.  One visitor's brother called this the "total bore".  We hoped to see a bigger tidal bore in St. John's NB.

We were on the move again.

Next:  New Brunswick