Bowman, ND to Buffalo, Wyoming

From North Dakota via South Dakota. I couldn’t resist making a little loop through South Dakota on our way to Wyoming. Actually I’d meant to spend some time in South Dakota. But as we travelled down Highway 85, everything seemed seemed shrouded in haze. I suspect that a forest fire was burning and the smoke was creating the haze.

The plan was to visit the Black Hills of northwestern South Dakota and maybe have a gawk at Mount Rushmore. But the Black Hills looked mostly grey when we got into South Dakota and so, after lunch, we hopped on Interstate 90 and headed towards Wyoming.

It is and has been very dry in these parts. As we went further south the fields of grain and sun flowers gave way to mostly ranching. I passed a big herd of sheep on a lonely hillside. And there sitting among the sheep was a big sheep dog. He was lying down keeping and eye on things. But ever vigilant, I’m sure.

It was even hotter today than yesterday. I’d say well over 30C although now that the sun has gone down the temperature is dropping. A woman I talked to today says that the weather is fairly unpredictable. Snow in September would not be a big surprise. And snow comes and goes during the winter as they have chinooks in these parts.

Tomorrow it’s over the mountains to the west and on to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks.

Jamestown, ND to Bowman, ND

Yes, we’re still in North Dakota. It’s a very wide state. I looked on a larger map and right now we’re in the lower left hand corner of North Dakota. If i look straight up to Canada we’re pretty much lined up with Regina.
We spent quite awhile on I94 today. We got away rather early (for us) just before 9am. The scenery was, once again, rather Alberta-ish. The cornfields of Minnesota gave way to huge fields of sunflowers and grain crops. Early on I had to go off the interstate to find ‘facilities’. We drove into a little village called Dawson. A man and a woman were washing their war memorial wall ... she with a scrub brush and spray detergent ... he following up with the power washer. This was next door to the town hall.



Across the street was this rather odd presentation. Note the beer can in the bear’s paw.

By noon it was time to stop for gas and a bite to eat. I sometimes get a salad at McDonalds as they usually have picnic tables outside where I can sit with Eliot. However, today I discovered a place called Taco John’s. John had picnic tables and was also conveniently across the drive from the gas station so the decision was made. I had some soft tacos which came with odd potato things that I believe they called potato olés. The olés have to be the saltiest thing I have ever eaten. They were almost too salty for me and I like things salty. And, of course, they’d been deep fried.
While in line there were three guys behind me joshing with one another. At one point, one of the three said to one of the others: “But then you know I’ve got more guns than you!” And he probably did.

More Interstate 94 ...
Just before the Montana border, we headed south on Highway 85 which goes down to South Dakota. I figured we were this close we might as well see both of the the Dakotas. We’re not quite there yet. We’re in a municipal campground in a little town called Bowman. I stopped into the flower/coffee shop where I got a pound of their finest dark roast. The lady told me if we were heading south that we should be sure to check out the Black Hills in South Dakota. She also said we shouldn’t miss Mount Rushmore. I’ve always thought that Mount Rushmore was an odd sort of memorial. A bit too kitsch for my taste although the size of it appeals to my delight in big things. Perhaps I shouldn’t miss it. Besides supplying tourist advice the gal also got on the phone to see if the local campground was still open. I said: “Oh, you know the campground manager.” And she replied: “In this town, everyone knows everyone else.” I’m not sure if she thinks that’s a good or bad thing.
On my way to the campground which costs $20 with electricity and $15 without and has great showers, I stopped at a little store to buy some beer. As I was getting out of my car, this young guy drives up in a big truck with super booming bass. He held the door for me and it wasn’t until I was inside that I looked out and saw that in big letters across the top of his windshield is said: “It’s a white thing.” I am still wondering what that meant. I was standing behind him and he had a lot of tattoos but they were mostly the sentimental kind. I think one may have been of his son.
So when we left the store the radio (that had been left on blaring) was playing something by a black rapper. The only two lines I caught (unfortunately) were:
I’ll take from my black bitch
And give it to my whore.
So, if he’s a big, old racist I’m confused as to why he’d be listening to ugly black rap music. I wasn’t about to ask him.
I did buy a six pack of Budweiser. I told the clerk that I didn’t need a bag. But she informed me that she had to put the beer in a bag. It’s the law in North Dakota.

Heading South.

SW of Deluth, MN to Jamestown, ND

Yes, here we are in the heart of North Dakota. Minnesota the land of lakes (they say there are 10,000 of them); Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon; wild rice; Lutherans; and canoes are all in the rear view mirror.
I quite liked Minnesota. At least the 24 hours of that I saw. People were very polite and helpful and everything had a small town feel. I suppose because there are mostly small towns. Around lunch time we stopped in Wadena on Route 10. It has a lovely main street with some old buildings that are still in good shape. And buildings like this movie theatre.

Earlier in the day we had stopped in Brainerd (mentioned in the movie Fargo) for some dog food. We stopped at a pet store called “Pets North”. And when I asked where the dog food was they informed me that there wouldn’t be any until they had a delivery in the afternoon. I found it difficult to imagine how a pet store could run complete out of kibble. Fortunately we had better luck in Wedena where a helpful gal at a local grooming parlour and all around pet place was able to sell us something that will keep Eliot happy until we return to Victoria and can get him more of his Go!
As we drove up Route 10 (in Minnesota) which I knew from my map went to Fargo, North Dakota, I did not see a single sign saying how far we had to go. As it turns out Fargo is right on the border with Minnesota. The last town before Fargo is Moorhead where I discovered yet another order outside from the little window Dairy Queen.

Not five minutes later there were signs announcing that we had entered Fargo and North Dakota ... not that the Minnesota Department of Transport would want you to know. Fargo seemed to have a happening downtown and I would have stopped except that the railway divides the town and there are one way streets everywhere (much like Calgary). It was time for a break but I couldn’t deal with downtown parking and basically not knowing where I was (except for the Fargo bit).
But North Dakota is very flat. At least what we’ve seen so far. Reminds me a bit of parts of Saskatchewan that we passed through during Ute’s part of the trip east. After Fargo we hopped on Interstate 94 which the main drag through Fargo sort of ends up on. It goes pretty much in a straight line right across the state. We’ve made it to Jamestown which is about a quarter of the way.

Like this forever.
I love my GPS but late this afternoon when I was trying to find a campground it led us down this road ... through a cornfield.

It’s a legitimate road. It even had a road sign (37th Avenue) but clearly it was not much maintained. And it did eventually (after four miles) lead us to a campground which was rejected because it sat right beside the aforementioned Interstate 94. But GPS to the rescue as the next campground was quite acceptable. It’s a municipal campground on the Jamestown Reservoir and only cost $10 with great showers and lots of hot water! Mind you, we’re also right next door to the municipal airport but there are only planes with single engines and I suspect they will suspend operations when it gets dark. Happy campers.

Munising, Michigan to Deluth, Minnesota

Actually we’re somewhere southwest of Deluth. I’m just not exactly sure where. Out in the country where we’re camped on the edge of a trailer park. A bit “Texas Chainsaw-ish ...”. But I have Eliot to protect me.

So it was up bright and early this morning after a fitful night’s sleep what with the wind howling and rocking the van back and forth most of the night. The wind had died down by morning and all the tents seemed to still be where they were the night before. I can’t imagine their occupants got much shut-eye.

We headed out across Michigan passing through towns such as Marquette, Ishpeming, Sidnaw and Matchwood. There were some oddly named businesses too. How about the diner called “Upchuck’s”. I’m not kidding. On the other hand, the southern shores of Lake Superior seem to be unending stretches of sandy beaches. Very fine.

By noon we had crossed over into Wisconsin and changed time zones to Central Daylight Savings Time. At one point I decided on a little pick-me-up and stopped at this Dairy Queen that is very old school with an outside window where you walk up to and give your order.

But the best was yet to come. When I received my %^@&#@ I was also presented with this for Eliot!

I’m sure you can imagine his delight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The top of Wisconsin is not very wide and by suppertime we were in Deluth, Minnesota. Deluth is at the very western edge of Lake Superior where there are more beautiful sandy beaches.

Campgrounds had become scarcer the further west we travelled and seemed to be almost non-existent as we drove southwest from Deluth. We stopped at one which was quite nice and on a lovely lake. But there was no one in the office. In fact, we didn’t see a single soul during a ten minute walk around. A lot of these places have people who bring their trailers and set them up for the summer. Sort of a temporary or seasonal trailer park. So we drove on and eventually found another of these seasonal parks with a couple of men talking out front. They referred me to the ‘lady of the house’ who said to park out behind the garage (quite pleasant here). She only charged me $10.00. I’ve found water but no showers. What did I expect for ten bucks.

Spanish, Ontario to Munising, Michigan

As early as this morning I was still debating whether or not to cross into the U.S. at Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. But the prospect of driving up over the top of Lake Superior again (and the price of gasoline) nudged me towards the U.S.

We got an early start from Mitchell’s Campground and headed towards S.S.M. which we made in good time around noon. I located a Bank of Montreal with almost no delay and obtained some U.S. funds. Then a quick lunch and off to the border which involved driving over two very large bridges that span the locks letting boats pass between Lake Superior and Lake Huron.

I hadn’t realized that it was September 11 until I drove up to U.S. Immigration. There electronic signs showing the various places of the 2001 attacks. When I was passing through eastbound, I had noticed huge numbers of cars and trucks backed up on the bridge. But today it was about a five minute wait with only three cars in front of us.

I got quite the interrogation probably because the guy had lots of time. He asked me to turn off the engine and I thought: “Oh, no. They’re going to take the van apart.” But they merely wanted to sniffer dog to give the van a once over without being done in by the exhaust from my 1984 engine.

We then proceeded along Hwy 26 which runs dead west in Michigan. It’s pretty dull for the first 100 miles. The driving wasn’t dull though as a huge wind with severe gusts had come up and it was both hands on the wheel all of the time to keep Helmut on the road.

We’ve stopped tonight at the municipal campground in Munising, Michigan. The campground sits in a pretty spot on the southern shore of Lake Superior. But the wind is still howling. Just glad I’m not in a tent tonight.

Tobermory to Spanish, Ontario

Tobermory is a charming little town at the top of the Bruce Peninsula. Well, it was charming the second week of September. From all the tourist shops in town, I suspect it is a horror during the summer.

Since the ferry to Manitoulin Island didn’t leave until 1:30pm, Eliot and I did a little exploration on foot. There’s a tiny harbour where a host of tour boats leave to explore Georgian Bay. We found a little café with a sunny patio where I had a lovely cup of dark roast and a bran muffin. Back at the harbour we found this rather large vessel being manoeuvred onto what seemed a tiny trailer. They had attracted quite a few onlookers.

Then around 1pm the MS Chi-Cheemaun arrived from Manitoulin Island. (A local couple I talked to referred to it at ‘The Cheech’.)It’s about the same size as the Coho that travels between Victoria and Port Angeles, Washington. But it has an amazing feature. The bow lifts up giving access to a ramp that’s lowered to allow the vehicles to drive off the ferry.

It was a lovely, smooth crossing with an almost cloudless sky. Dogs are allowed on what they call the promenade deck. Eliot seemed quite blazé about being on the ferry unlike his reaction fretful reaction to travel on the Coho. And, of course, he made a few new friends in the course of the two hour crossing.

Once on Manitoulin Island we drove up to Highway 17 and made it as far as Spanish, Ontario where we set up camp at Mitchell’s which is really mostly a fisherman’s camp but was fine for an overnight. Good hot shower in the morning.

Toronto to Tobermory, Ontario

Sunday morning began with the somewhat disconcerting experience of getting locked in my bedroom at the Sumner-Wright residence. Around 7am Eliot decided it was time to get up. I’d been in bed relatively early the night before so it didn’t seem like a bad idea. However, when I turned the doorknob to open the bedroom door, the knob came off in my hand. And it wasn’t about to be reattached. So what to do? Wake the whole household? Which would be Wayne and Heather as I suspect their boys, Nathan and Nick, would sleep through anything. I was finally rescued around 8am when Wayne arose and confessed that he’d been meaning to tighten that doorknob.

I’d decided that we would leave Toronto after lunch and head up to Tobermory where there is a ferry that travels to Manitoulin Island. This route avoids quite a bit of highway travel. But before leaving, Heather and I shopped for groceries at Sobey’s over on Mount Pleasant Road. Actually Heather shopped and Eliot and I stood outside people watching.

Wayne had gone off to watch his grand-daughter(?) play soccer so Heather and I had lunch. After lunch I did a final check and packed up the van. Heather also equipped me with a water flask with water (since I’d left my nalgene in N.S.), blueberries and a couple of chucks of dark chocolate.

The drive to Tobermory involved getting out of Toronto in one piece. And another short run on the 401 and over to Hwy 400 which heads up Barrie way. The drive was mostly uneventful except when I noticed a factory outlet when I exited the 400 near Barrie. The signs indicated that there was a Villeroy and Boch outlet. Since the Victoria store had closed since I’d bought some dishes I dashed in to replace the mug that has since been chipped. And I picked up two more dessert plates and two soup bowls.

Waiting to turn left at Yonge and Eglinton

The rest of the drive was uneventful but a bit long and tedious. When we finally arrived at the campground at Bruce Peninsula National Park there was not a park employee in sight. The park struck me as rather odd. The campground is on a lake and not the shores of Georgian Bay. It’s also rather gloomy with campsites crammed up against one another. In any event, arriving late we couldn’t be picky. The next morning no one turned up to ask for a fee so we rolled out around 10:30am having camped yet again for free.

Toronto, Ontario

Heather insisted that we sleep indoors last night (Friday). Just as well, because during the night the heavens opened up and heavy rain came down. And the downpours lasted well into the morning. It turned out to be the most rain that had even fallen on Toronto on a September 8. With all the rain that I have seen since June, I am beginning to suspect that I should be hiring myself out in areas of drought. Invite me to come and visit and the rains will come.

Heather, Wayne and I had had a good visit the night before. Eliot discovered the black squirrels that infest Toronto and began seeing what he could do about Heather and Wayne’s backyard since we were spending the evening out on the deck. However, at one point he was inside looking out through the screen on the door, when Heather’s cat Dinah approached. Eliot warned her off with a few good barks which scarred the poor cat causing her to high tail it to the back fence. She was eventually rescued by Heather’s son, Nathan, and for the rest of the weekend there was a delicate dance to keep the two separated.

Heather and I had a walk down Yonge Street, across Davisville and up Mount Pleasant Road. So much had changed since I lived there 22 years ago. I guess I should have expected that. Later that day when Heather was off to her guitar lesson, I wondered around the neighbourhood with Eliot. In particular I visited the two places I first rented when I moved to Toronto in the 1970s. That first apartment has been replaced by a rather ugly office/commercial building at the corner of Mount Pleasant Road and Eglinton Avenue.

And the house on Taunton Road that I shared with friends (just around the corner from here) is also gone. I must have walked down this street many times during those years but much of it was quite unfamiliar. Well, it was over 35 years ago.

Heather and I on her back deck.

Tweed, ON to Toronto, ON

Today began with one of my back molars losing a filling (or perhaps I lost a bit of tooth). Damn those ju-jubes! You may ask what I was doing eating ju-jubes at 10 o’clock in the morning but it is a question which will remain unanswered. An immediate trip to the dentist does not seem indicated so I think it will wait for my return to Victoria.

We left the boys at Riverside RV Resort and made the drive from Tweed, Ontario to Peterborough in a little over an hour. First on the agenda was a visit to the Peterborough Lift Lock. It’s a kind of elevator for boats. As one big tub of water goes up, another comes down. The two huge weights counter-balance one another although the lift going down has more water in it so that it will push the other to the top and not have them get stuck it approximately this position.

Just as we were walking up for a closer inspection, a fellow in a motor boat came along and the operator shouted for him to enter the lock on the left. Very soon the whole contraption was in motion. The tiny motor boat was in the lock on the left. Because of the counter-weighted system I can’t imagine that it takes a lot of extra energy to run and so I assume it’s not big deal to run this huge apparatus with for a 50 pound motor boat. I have to say that the captain of the motor boat weighed considerably more than 50 pounds.

Then it was on to the Canadian Canoe Museum. I wasn’t quite sure what I would do with Eliot because it was warm and very humid. But the two women who were at the door showed me a hoot where I could tie him in the vestibule. They even ran and brought him a bowl of water. I had been so looking forward to seeing this wonderful zen-like museum. The museum is a history of Canada told through the canoe and its many versions and incarnations over the years. Unfortunately after about 15 minutes I began to notice (from the third floor) a bit of yipping and yapping from you-know-who left along downstairs. I returned to the entry way and gave him a bit of a talking to and returned to my tour. The yipping and yapping continued so I speeded up my tour.

The two volunteers were quite understanding and said they didn’t mind at all as I was the only person in the museum at the time. One of them even took Eliot out for a brief walk to see if that would calm him down. I was glad to get to see the museum and most of its artifacts even if I had to rush a bit.

We finally left Peterborough by mid-afternoon for the drive into downtown Toronto. I had called my friend, Heather, a few days before and suggested we could drop by for a night or two if she and the family weren’t otherwise occupied. They weren’t so we were on our way. I don’t believe in all my years in Toronto that I had ever actually drive on Highway 401 or the Don Valley Parkway. But I did on Friday. The speed of the other cars seemed reasonable and no one was impatient. Helmut was able to keep up quite nicely. And we got to Manor Road East near Eglinton and Yonge at around 4:30pm

Onward to Ontario

Yesterday we hit the road in earnest and made it from just outside Quebec City to Perth, Ontario. This involved whizzing down Quebec’s Route 20. I had tried to find a route that would bypass Montreal. I had no desire to take Helmut onto and and then off the isle of Montreal. I selected a town southwest corner of Quebec that appeared to have a bridge across the St. Lawrence. I typed this name into my GPS and we were off.

It seemed to work just fine. As the skyline of downtown Montreal began to appear over the steering wheel we were taken to Route 30 and began heading southwest ... just as I had planned.

However, I began to notice more and more construction. Perhaps a lot of other people had had my idea of bypassing Montreal. It appeared that the Quebec government was busy building, revising and extending roads to enable this. However, at one point the roads ahead did not correspond at all with what the GPS map was showing. So on the GPS screen, the car sailed off into space where no roads were shown. I started watching signs very carefully and eventually all was well and we ended up where I had hoped.

We eventually arrived at Smith’s Falls, Ontario where I had a look at the some of the locks on the Rideau Canal (and thought how pleasant the canal looked for paddling). There then ensued a hunt for a place to camp overnight. The roads were maddeningly numbered and it took forever to find a provincial campground that looked promising. I had been warned about the high fees at Ontario’s provincial campgrounds but I was not quite ready to pay almost $40 for an unserviced campsite. To make matters more annoying there wasn’t even an attendant at the campground so it was up to you to find a campsite (no maps were provided on paper or signage), then return and fill out an envelope and deposit cash (if you were lucky enough to have the exact change as there was no option to leave a credit card number). We left!

Other roads led us to Perth, Ontario. It, like Smith’s Falls, is a lovely old Ontario town with lots of lovingly restored buildings and heaps of history. As we passed through Perth, we came across a municipal campground run by the town. There was no attendant but no matter, the sign said that the attendant would come around later. By 10:30am today the attendant still hadn’t showed up so we got free camping for a night. It was quiet except for some distant railway noises and had great showers. No free or pay wi-fi though.

 

Mural of quilters in Perth

Today was a lazy day with only a short drive down to Frontenac Outfitters to see their H2O canoes. I resisted the urge to pull out the Mastercard and secure one to Helmut’s roof.

Then up so Riverside Campground never Tweed, Ontario where it is very quiet and peaceful and they have a lovely swimming pool which was refreshing on another warm and humid day.

Métis to somewhere south of Quebec City

It seemed like a lot of driving today but really we haven’t come all that far. Perhaps if I’d stuck to the four lane highway we would have made better time. But we’ve been travelling Quebec Route 132 ever since we entered Québec Province. All the way up around the Gaspé and down the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Route 132 goes almost the whole way to Ontario but seems to disappear for a bit (on my maps) around Montreal.

I suppose that Route 132 is the original highway in those parts. Around Rimouski a four lane divided highway starts and you can have Rte 132 pretty much to yourself. There are all sort of interesting villages and almost all have at least one ice cream shop called a ‘laitier’.

I blindly followed Route 132 into Lévi, Quebec (across the river from Québec City). It was around 4pm and it hadn’t occurred to me that they would have a rush hour. All of a sudden it was bumper to bumper; stop and go. I tried Route 20 (the four lane freeway) and it was just as bad. By the time we’d passed the exits to Québec City I was ready to stop for the night.

A sign for a campground indicated it was five kilometres away. A reasonable distance and likely to ensure that the campground wasn’t beside the highway. We twisted and turned through country lanes. Very rural.

We finally came upon the campground and it was massive. One of those places that doesn’t even have tent sites and a lot of sites that are seasonally occupied. There’s even a campground restaurant, swimming pool and man-made lake. But the best was yet to come. Clearly visitors weren’t arriving in droves and when I asked about a campsite I was told it would be $46.00. I think I must have given the poor gal one of my looks. I explained that I didn’t need a site with ‘services’ (electricity, etc.) but she explained that all the sites had services ... there were no sites ‘sans’ services. I was able to beat them down to $36.00. Even though I was tired and wanted to stop, I was having trouble with paying almost $50.00 to park Helmut for the night. And, I think they were hesitant to lose an easy sale given that trailers weren’t exactly lining up to get in.

But here’s the best part. When I asked about wi-fi/internet, the poor gal had to tell me there was a charge of $5.00 for 24 hours. I think I may have laughed out loud. I said I’d think about it. Next morning I discovered that I needed a quarter for the shower (which, of course, I had not brought along). Sheeeeesh!

One of these things is not like the others;
One of these things just doesn’t belong.

Forillon National Park to Grand-Métis, PQ

Today we pretty much drove the entire north coast of the Gaspé Peninsula. It’s a spectacular drive. At first there are huge headlands that the road twists and turns up and over. Then things become a little less mountainous and the road hugs the coast for miles and miles. There are long sections with only a cement breakwater between the road and the ocean. And there are signs with a big wave and a car skidding. I’m assuming that during winter storms the waves splash up and over the road somewhat the way they do at Ogden Point in Victoria.

The towns and villages are farther apart on the north shore as well. I’ve already forgotten what this one is ... Grande-Vallée??

A little further down the road I went in search of coffee at the little café across from this lighthouse. The woman who ran the place which was also a gift shop had just taken fresh baked cookies out of the oven. The little village where this lighthouse is situated is called Sainte-Madeleine-de-la-Riviere-Madeleine. I suspect there are people who have moved rather than have to write that as their return address.

Sometime later we arrived in the village of Marsoui. Along the water they have a public park where I discovered my next photo exhibits.

Also in the park was this much decorated boat which included a quote (in French) by Kahlil Gibran.

There was a little canteen on the edge of the park which seemed to be heavily patronized. I had a ‘trio’ which included a hamburger (not huge but satisfying), a bag of ‘frites’ and a can of pop. The french fries were delicious as they were made from scratch from real potatos not those detestable refried frozen things.

Back on the road, the little villages whizzed by. Our next stop was at Cap-Chat (Cape Cat?) where we discovered our final photo exhibit in the local park or ‘halte’ as they seem to be called. Almost every little village along the way ... sometimes just a few kilometers apart ... seems to have one. It’s great for travellers as you always know there’s a “facility” not far down the road. And I suppose it does encourage people to stop and spend money locally. However, the tourist season seems to be very short. Today (Labour Day) there were not many people on the road and some places had already hung out the ‘fermé’ sign.

 

 

 

In any event, this last collection of photos was quite wonderful. There was a collection of portraits taken by Christian Lamontagne of folk from the Imperial Valley in California.

Tonight we’ve found a $19.00 campsite with free showers and a lovely view of the St. Lawrence River (at least until it got dark). It’s near Grand-Métis which is pretty much the end of the north shore of the Gaspé Peninsula. We’re also within earshot of the highway but even that is beginning to quiet down.

Forillon National Park

It had to happen and this morning it did. Eliot and I headed out around 11am to explore parts of Forillon National Park other than our campsite and the nearby beach. We took a short drive to the end of the road at Cap Bon Ami. When we arrived I discovered that I’d driven down the road without lowering the pop top on the Westy. I’ve read it’s one of those things you eventually forget to do. I also drove away once without pulling in the power cord. Oh, well. At least there weren’t any underpasses. I did NOT take a photo.

Our campground that we camped at in the north side of the park was very fine. A little shade; a little sun. And the beach was just a short walk away. The north side of the Gaspé Peninsula is much more rugged and mountainous than the south side. Cliffs plunge right into the sea and Helmut was tested on some of the climbs.

I had driven the van (with the top up) down to the end of the road where these cliffs begin. When we arrived there was a big bbq going on and a bunch of people who all had apparently arrived on these odd hybrid motorcycles with three wheels (two on the front). I guess it’s the new best thing. In any event, if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, they had a blow up version of these vehicles being kept blown up by a noisy wind machine. Not exactly the sort of thing you expect to come across in a national park.

Despite the noise, the views were still astonishing.

 

 

 

Looking north to the tip of the Gaspé Peninsula.

We then headed to the south side of the park for a walk out to Land’s End. The other side is a little less rugged. There are not so many cliffs. And there’s an old gravel road that your can drive your bike along. I think Eliot may be beginning to feel his age so I don’t like to walk him too far. This route was 8 kilometers round trip so I put him in the carrier of the foldable bike and away we went. There were a lot of people on the trail and he got lots of waves and exclamations in French. And there were a couple of hills that I had to walk up. But it sure was a faster way to cover the four kilometers out. The effort was more than worth it. You can actually see the very tip of the peninsula.

Which this is NOT actually. But it’s close by.

And lots of birds riding the updrafts.

Percé, PQ to Forillon National Park

The wind howled all night rocking the camper back and forth. Some of the gusts of wind were so violent that I closed the lid to keep the canvas from being damaged. The wind was still blowing this morning but there was not a cloud in the sky.

The ‘roche percé’ still looked as impressive as yesterday although lit from the sun coming from the east.

For such a short season, Percé seems to be very much a tourist town. The main street is filled with shops and restaurants that it’s difficult to imagine the locals patronizing. And all the guide books say that this long weekend is the last hurrah and that a lot of places shut down in early September.

Leaving Percé and heading towards Gaspé involves going up and over a big hill and driving into much more mountainous country. The mountains of Gaspésie are really an extension of the Appalachians. Their northern end is the tip of the Gaspé peninsula as it falls into the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

Gaspé seems a much less touristy town. On the way out of town, we stopped to eat some lunch on the grounds of the Musée de la Gaspé. There is a huge bronze sculpture honouring Jacques Cartier who stopped in these parts in 1534.

Around mid-afternoon we arrived at Forillon National Park which takes up a big chunk of the tip of the Gaspé Peninsula. We’re camped tonight overlooking the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the tip of the peninsula.

New Richmond to Percé, Quebec

We made a late start this morning. I’d woken up around 7am and heard heavy rain on the roof of the van. But when I finally crawled out at 8:30am everything outside was dry ... picnic table, van canopy, van windshields. Perhaps I’d dreamed the rain earlier in the morning. Still it was windy and overcast. Many cups of coffee later the sun was shining although the wind was still blowing.

When the rubber finally hit the asphalt, we backtracked a little to catch another of the photo exhibits I’d come across the day before. This one was aerial photos taken by Guy Lavigeur. The photos were displayed in a park in New Richmond and some of them were even attached to a short dock.

 This photo exhibition is a delightful surprise and I look forward to catching all of them (except the ones I’ve already missed) as I continue along Hwy 132 around the Gaspésie.

I came across the next exhibition in Bonaventure. It was a collection of portraits that Venessa Winship had taken in Georgia in the former U.S.S.R. They are a touching, melancholy set and my favourite so far.

I located the final photo exhibit of the day at the marina in Chandler. It was a selection of a series of photos taken by Guillaume Cyr and Yana Ouellet of old, abandoned houses around the Gaspé. Some very haunting images.

Today’s driving took us through many small towns and villages. I found it interesting to see the speed limits along various parts of the highway. The road is in fairly good condition and the limit is often 90k/h. However, even when you’re driving through fairly residential areas, the speed limit is often as high as 70k/h. There was, at least, a sign in a school area that indicated the speed limit was 50k/h until 5:00pm on school days. In most other provinces, I imagine it would be 30k/h. Perhaps the children of the Gaspésie are quicker on their feet than les Anglaises. And everyone seems to drive really fast. I always seem to have a line of vehicles behind me even through I’m doing the speed limit.

As we neared Percé, the landscape got more mountainous. Then suddenly, there is was: Roche Percé. I’d seen it in photos many times but I was unprepared for how big it really is. It’s HUGE.

There was a rain shower just as we arrived so we even got a bonus rainbow.

And I found a campsite with a fine view of the ‘rock’. I was able to sit in my lawn chair reading and watching the light change as the sun began to set. And I also took the odd additional photo. We’re parked near the edge of a cliff and I’ll be doing a double check of the emergency break before tucking Eliot and me into bed this evening.

Kouchibouguac to New Richmond, PQ

Quite a bit of driving today as we travelled to the top of New Brunswick and into Quebec to begin a tour of the Gaspé Peninsula.
There was a stop for lunch in Bathurst, N.B. where I found an excellent ham and cheese sandwich and some REAL coffee which I had ground for french press. The instant this morning was quite unsatisfying not to mention that it had hardened into great lumps that I had to use a pot bottom to break up. Even then it didn’t want to dissolve.
We crossed over a bit bridge at Campbellton, New Brunswick and were in Québec once again. The first stretch of the Gaspé peninsula is quite built up with lots of motels and cottages and many “tourist attractions”. One of those tourist attractions is quite interesting. In various towns along the way there are large, outdoor photo exhibits. We stopped just outside of Carleton-Sur-Mer to look at yet another salt marsh and found an excellent series of photos taken along the U.S. Mexico border.
 
The photos are large and the materials they are printed on will surely cope with the elements. I’ve just seen another sign for a different exhibit here in New Richmond which I intend to check out in the morning. I’ve been unable to discover anything about these exhibits on Google.
Otherwise here’s a photo of Carleton-Sur-Mer from the viewing platform.

And this is the beach near where we are camped tonight at New Richmond, PQ.