Trip across Newfoundland

Breakfast

A steak and cheese skillet and coffee. That’s the way to start a day.

Attached to the Comfort in was a Jungle Jim’s restaurant (that I have since found to be a chain) that was a good way of starting off the day. Before the ferry let-down I had a distinctive spring to my step. I finally felt like I was on top of the world walking down to hall to the joint.

As a complete aside, taking pictures with a cool digital camera seemed quite strange though with the Kodachrome song playing in the background. I miss film. I miss the look of film. But at this point I can’t give up digital. There’s no way I could even carry enough film for the shots I’ve already taken, let alone whatever other shots come in the rest of the journey.

The Ferry Situation

I talked briefly to someone at the Newfoundland and Labrador Ferry service on a very bad Skype connection off of pilfered Wi-Fi about my situation. It seems that the crew of the ship have some discretion about who gets let on that doesn’t have reservations. I tried to make just a reservation for myself but the connection was too dodgy to continue. It looks like there might be hope to get to Goose Bay. Hope hope hope with me. 

On the road

The more I ride through Newfoundland the more this reminds me of our trip last year to Alaska. It feels like I’m in the foothills to some mountains, but I know that’s not really the case. I guess they are what’s left of mountains from the plates colliding.

Most strikingly fireweed grows here as well. It’s an opportunist that likes poor dirt after a fire. Poor dirt next to the road seems like a good substitute. It might be a weed for many folks, but to me it’s so closely tied to adventure that I can’t separate the two. The vibrant reddish-pink petals of the stalks of flowers never fails to catch my eye. The growing season for it looks to be almost over though; many of the stalks that displayed the flowers are shriveled to stalks of pink filaments that once held the flowers. Some just have a few flowers left on the tops, the rest having served their purpose to spread the “weed” further afield.

Good.

Road to La Manche

I’m writing this from my camp a the La Manche provincial park. From my reckoning this parks sits furthest East on the island. I’ll be among the first the morning sun will hit tomorrow. That makes me happy.

But before I set up camp, first I had to get here.

Turning off the Trans Canada Highway (TCH) that loops to the North of the island things changed abruptly. On the TCH things were mainly pine forests with many lakes of varying sizes to either side. Terra Nova National Park typified this a lush pine forest framing gorgeous deep blue lakes; lakes that are “Crayola Blue” surrounded by “Forest Green” trees.  (This isn’t like glacier run-off lakes that glow an other-worldly cyan)

After turning south, the world changed. It went from the rich greens to a prairie scrub that wouldn’t look too out-of-place in Wyoming. The difference was countless large boulders that were strewn across the landscape (doubtless from glaciers in eons past). The greens of before changed to more desert-like earth tones. In the background stood prominent outcrops of rock – one of which looks like what I imagine Devils Tower might look like a few million years from now.

Winding my way south to the coast the road turned hilly with far steeper grades than I saw earlier in the day. The last one, the tiny road down to the camp, was almost as steep as Grove Hill in Chagrin Falls, except dozens of times longer. I pity anyone without a motor vehicle to get out of this place.

Dinner

Mmmm… canned Irish stew. Way better than the “Kam” of previous days! A bun from that meal served as a fine accompaniment to the canned stuff. I’m sure it’s not good for me, but <shrug/> what can a guy do? Te freeze-dried food is just as bad for me anyway, and I’m saving that just in case I get into a pinch somewhere (I hope not, but it’s a good cushion)

Signing out,
The Man of La Manche