2018

It’s been a busy week here in Nova Scotia. Lots of hiking at Blomidon, through forests lovely like this.

The best hike? Cape Split, without a doubt. Standing on the edge of the cliffs, looking out and looking down were amazing experiences.

And, yes, I am still fascinated by the Fundy tides. This is Halls Harbour at low tide, where the tidal range is about 40 feet.

I also did a little beachwalking on the incoming tide at Scots Bay, and found these stubs of an old pier still holding on.

On my way out of the Blomidon area, I stopped at the Grande Pre National Monument, a tribute and history of the Acadians, a people displaced from Nova Scotia by politics and greed from 1755-1764. It was a look at the history of Canada that I didn’t know that much about, and I learned a lot here.

I have been in Truro the last three nights, looking at some family genealogy and checking out the stores to stock up on supplies and groceries.

I think I figured out why my ancestors fled Truro: ticks and biting things. This is the triage room at the local hospital, where I was getting a tick check after one fell out of my hair Tuesday morning. And by the time I ended that wonderful day, I had a bug bite on my eyelid from who knows where. This morning, that eye is all swollen up, but I will spare you the gory photo of same.

Now it’s on to one last stop in Nova Scotia, five more days and nights to explore the northerly part before moving on to Prince Edward Island (PEI). I can’t believe three weeks of Nova Scotia have passed so quickly.

Yes, I made it to Canada. There might be one or two people on this planet that don’t know this yet. I crossed the border on Friday morning, where it was me, the Canadian customs person, and a flock of birds. No guns, mace, alcohol, etc. so I was cleared through in under a minute. She wasn’t at all impressed that my trailer is Canadian 🙂

So now I am in New Brunswick, with the sign (above) to prove it. My first experience in a Provincial Park (New River Beach) was quite nice, with widely spaced sites and many, many trees for shade. This bodes well for the rest of my trip, as most of my chosen sites are either Provincial Parks or National Parks.

The seasons change a bit later up here so I was once again able to enjoy the daffodils of early Spring as I hiked around and explored the coastline.

One of the most fun things has been watching the fantastical Bay of Fundy tides go in and out. I’m saving some photos for a special post (or two) about that. This is just after high tide at New River Beach, and at low tide, I could walk all the way across sand to that house in the photo.

The Fundy Coastal Drive goes up and down narrow peninsulas, which reminded me of the Maine coast. Two countries, but the same geology, geography, and coastal occupations.

I’m currently in St. John, the oldest incorporated city in Canada, checking out the city life and stocking up for the weeks ahead. Rockwood Park here is just hitting its Spring stride and a walk around the lake this morning was a feast for the camera.

And I’ve even seen my first moose 🙂

When I’m in Canada, I feel this is what the world should be like.

Jane Fonda

I’m getting closer… one of my big goals this year is to spend time exploring completely new places and eastern Canada is the one I’ve been aiming for the last few months as I camped my way up the east coast of the US. Once this map was filled with red pins, now it’s all green, with the blue showing my current location, about 100 miles away from the Canadian border. I’m ready to go. But first…

I spent the end of last week at Salisbury Beach, which was mostly full of overcast skies broken by brief bouts of brilliant sunshine and one fantastic sunset.

Cold and wind dominated, so it was disappointing I didn’t get the chance to test my new kayak but, as I have learned in my two years of full-timing, I can’t control the weather.

Sunday was drive time, up the coast to Rockland for a great lunch with my old friend and former sailing buddy, Ed, and then onward. This trip has been as much about spending time with people as it has been seeing the sights. Living on the east coast for 20 years means I have a lot of catching up to do, and this last month has been very satisfying in that regard, and my friends have warmed my heart so much. (I don’t post photos of my friends to protect their privacy.)

But I will mention one person… my niece, Brianna, who is starting a business on Etsy making bags, and she made this wonderful lightweight shower tote for me this month. Yes, Game of Thrones fabric FTW! I love it. If you’re interested, click on the photo to jump to her shop.

OK, back to travelogue scribblings…

From Rockland, I wandered up the Maine coast, and I do mean wandered. The average speed on Route 1 is 45 miles per hour, so it was 2.5 hours to get from there to Acadia. I had forgotten how twisty and turn and full of small towns the coast is down east.

It was worth it though, Acadia is stunning and a photographer’s paradise, even on a foggy day.

I have a few more days to explore here before I cross the Canadian border and start my big Spring/Summer adventure, so I’m off to hike and take more photos.

Say what you want about aging, it’s still the only way to have old friends. 

Robert Brault

Catching up on two weeks worth of travel, as I’m steadily making my way up the East Coast and towards Canada. Spent a few days in Pennsylvania, where Breeze got a new set of tires. It has to be good weather as they can’t put the trailer into their service bays, so they do the tire changing outside.

I driveway surfed with my friends, Peg and Larry, she of the fantastic gardens and this time around, the tulips were on show.

From there, it was a one-night stand in the Poconos, where Spring has so far not yet appeared but the last of the 2017 leaves made a nice display.

A few hours of driving through sun, rain, 94F heat and much traffic landed me in Kingston, New York for an evening with friends I’ve known 35 years or so. We all sailed on Clearwater back in the day and so it was a lovely evening of catching up, sharing memories, and discussing current events. I had a beautiful spot across the street from the house (thanks, Gregg and Emma!) and much enjoyed the daffodils and the bird songs the next morning before I hit the road.

An hour or so later, and suddenly, Breeze was in the company of her siblings!

Five Alto 1743s in a row, three of them blue! Such fun to camp this way, and we also had two more 1743s and one R-series Alto join in the weekend fun. The park was right on the Hudson River, so I got to see one of my favorite bodies of water for the weekend, which I quite enjoyed.

The park is only two years old, so they are still working on things, but the trail system is stellar: well-marked and through lovely forests.

I’m typing this entry listening to the birds singing in my friend’s yard outside Boston, on my way north to the MA/NH border. All the way up, from PA to NY and now MA, the birdsong has been the music of my morning and I absolutely love it. Flowers are spring, yes, but bird song is SPRING!

Every spring
I hear the thrush singing
in the glowing woods
he is only passing through.
His voice is deep,
then he lifts it until it seems
to fall from the sky.
I am thrilled.
I am grateful.
Then, by the end of morning,
he’s gone, nothing but silence
out of the tree
where he rested for a night.
And this I find acceptable.
Not enough is a poor life.
But too much is, well, too much.
Imagine Verdi or Mahler
every day, all day.
It would exhaust anyone.

A Thousand Mornings, by Mary Oliver

I’m moving right along towards Canada this week, from Virginia to Maryland to Delaware. Kind of exciting, those last two states, because I’ve not camped in them before so I finally get to put some new stickers on my US map. Yay!

While Virginia Beach was nice, it was windy about 90% of the time, so when it came down to crossing the Chesapeake Bay, I was pretty happy that half of the crossing is a bridge and the other half is a tunnel. Or, more accurately, two tunnels and two bridges.

From there, it was off to the races. Or rather, the ponies. All ponies, all the time at Assateague Island National Seashore, and its sister site on Chincoteague Island, the National Wildlife Refuge. The ocean was right over the dunes at my campsite.

The wild horses get to go wherever they want. Including right next to where you were planning to hang out, and you simply back away and let them have it.

The day I left, the horses came right up to my trailer’s back bumper as I was in the car getting ready to pull out of my site. How often do you get to see a pony in your rearview mirror? Not often enough, I say!

While at the WIldlife Refuge, I climbed the stairs to the top of the Assateague Island Light. Quite a climb and quite the view from there! This old lighthouse is beautiful.

I was only in the area for three days, but I have so many photos that I’ll just throw another one in here, this one from the bay side.

Monday was one of the shortest transits of my vagabond life: 50 miles and 70 minutes up the coast to the edge of Delaware, at the junction of the Delaware River and the Atlantic Ocean. This place was originally Fort Miles, and several of the old buildings remain, along with gun bunkers buried in sand dunes and concrete towers looking out for enemy submarines off the coast. I climbed the one nearest the campground, and, yes, it was as cool as it sounds.

There are several trails here, so I’m exploring them one by one. The storm that blew in last night seems to be over now, although the sun is still struggling to make a decent appearance. The forecast is for 70F on Saturday. I’ll believe that when I feel it!

In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.

Mark Twain