Canada 2011
 
 

Day 10

August 3

 
   
  
 Dave, who is hosting the event, said last night there was a restaurant just down the road where they ate lunch. They are supposed to serve breakfast, so I decide that I'll go check it out this morning.  
  
 

When I get there, they're shut up tighter than a widow's purse. But I remember passing a Tim Hortons on the way back to the motel last night, so that will have to do. I order up some of their sausage and biscuits. When it comes up, the lady behind the counter tells me 'Gentleman, you food is ready."

I tell her "I reckon that's the nicest thing I've been called all day" and the other folks standing around have a big laugh.

Their biscuits are pretty good and their hot cocoa is nice and I make short work of them, since I slept a little later than planned this morning. On my way out, I hold the door for a lady and she looks at me -

"Well, you are living up to the gentleman part!"

and I thank her.

 
  
 When I get back to the motel, Buzz, Julien, and Mac have decided they are going to ride the Cabot Trail. Alain is up and stirring so we decide we will join them. But it sort of falls apart when we stop for gas and nobody has bothered to give Mac the memo. He keeps going while the rest of us stop.  
  
 The chase ensues, but I end up pretty much separated from the group all the rest of the day. I'm running the Cabot Trail counterclockwise which will keep the ocean to my right most of the time. I've heard a lot about it, so I am a bit excited to finally get to ride it.  
  
 It's well kept road, especially considering the severe winters they experience in this part of the world. 
  
 The sweepers are nice and since I'm by myself, I pick a nice speed that suites me well. 
  
 There's a bit of fog but nothing to be too concerned about. 
  
 And the area is sprinkled with lovely churches nestled among the dense forest. 
  
  It reminds me a lot of parts of the Smoky Mountains back home with the streams protected by heavy vegetation.  
  
 From some of the higher spots, you get an unhindered view of the ocean as it stretches out to meet the horizon. 
  
 A light rain begins to fall, but not enough to make me want to put on my rain gear. I just dial back the throttle a bit as I suppose the painted lines are slick when wet just like back home. 
  
 And as I have been thinking of the Smoky Mountains, I can't help but chuckle at this sign. 
  
 It's a pretty fair climb but I'm over the top in short order. 
  
 But headed down the other side, the fog settles in and it's slow going for safety's sake. 
  
 Down around a bend, I happen upon these which I presume are lobster traps set aside for a while. 
  
 This spot reminds me so much of a similar scene that I encountered on my first trip to Scotland. 
  
 The rain has picked up, so I decide this is a nice enough spot to get on my rain gear. I wonder what the story is behind the old derelict house just over the water. 
  
 Judging by the other abandoned buildings on the other side of the road, I figure this must have been a busy place at one time in it's history. Soon Buzz and Julien show up, so we proceed together for a while. 
  
 With my full rain kit on, I continue to press along at a slow pace, just enjoying the beautiful ocean views. 
  
 They know of a nice resort with a beautiful view, so I follow them up. 
  
 It's lovely place, reminding me a bit of a Swiss Chalet.  
  
 They have done a wonderful job of cultivating flowers which make a nice frame to the overlooks. 
  
 Soon we are back on the main road again as the sky hovers low and dark.  
  
 I pass by another stately church building as I head further north. 
  
 The Cabot Trail is not a particularly technical road, but it does have some really nice sweepers which I enjoy. 
  
  And you just can't beat the views that spread out in front of you at every turn.  
  
 There's just something about riding along the ocean and watching the waves ... 
  
 as they continue their endless march to the shore.  
  
 This is a pretty land and I am glad that I have been able to make the trip.  
  
 As the land rises and falls, so the fog comes and goes. It seems to clothe everything in a gray cloak of silence as sun plays hide and seek in the clouds. 
  
 But then I break out of the grayness to see yet another beautiful scene. 
  
 When I come to this light, it is red and I am a bit tempted to go ahead. The road is empty and it seems sort of funny to be stopped in the middle of nowhere with no one around. But I wait for the green like a good law-abiding citizen and then proceed, temptation overcome for at least this time. 
  
 The road begins to get a little more twisty which I like a lot. 
  
 It begins to remind me of some of my favorite rides in North Carolina on the way to Hot Springs. 
  
 

At a nice overlook, I decide I'll stop and take a break. Alain and I got separated early on this morning, and I've not seen him since. But I've got some water and some Snickers bars in my bags, so I'm good. As I always say -

"If you can't have a laugh, you might as well have a Snicker!"

 
  
 SweetTreat enjoys the short break also I let her rest for a while.  
  
  Too soon the Snicker is gone, and the curves beckon so we're off on the yellow brick road again.  
  
 The scenery just continues to delight me as it seems every new ridge presents a more lovely view. 
  
 Heading down the hill, I spot this unique building. I can only assume that it is some sort of ancient funeral cairn. 
  
 

The blues of this scene make it hard to say where the water stops and the sky begins.

 
  
 

I notice that some of the folks have stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch. When I pull in, I ask about Alain. Buzz tells me -

"He went on ahead to look for you."

Figuring he might be concerned, I thank him and head out in hot pursuit. These folks are also seem to be pursuing something, but not as quickly as I am.

 
  
 I finally realize that we have missed each other again, so I dial back on the wick and just enjoy what lays before my eyes. 
  
 On this part of the trail, the road just hugs the highlands and follows along the ocean. 
  
 For all the world, this could be along Highway One in California. 
  
 Every now and then I get a clear view of just how the road unfolds in front of me. 
  
 But most of the time, I just sit back and enjoy the view ... 
  
 after view ... 
  
 after view ... 
  
 after view. 
  
 But then 'civilization' peaks it's ugly head into the viewfinder. As I have said before, I like the idea of wind generated power, but it sure does have an ugly face. 
  
 Sprinkling along the Trail are lots of small fishing villages which remind me of the coasts of Ireland. 
  
  But for the most part, the ocean view is unspoiled by progress.  
  
 Back in the States, this scene would probably be blocked by ocean front high-rise apartments and condominiums. 
  
 Out here near Cheticamp, the biggest development may be this place - 
  
 or at least it probably has the largest population in one spot! 
  
 Near Margaree, there is another lovely overlook. This is a Celtic area of Nova Scotia where things move at a bit of a slower pace. 
  
 The village is lovely across the water, but I will have to skip a visit to it today. 
  
 I'm soon back inland as I head toward the end of the Trail. 
  
  Once again I pass another lovely church standing watch over its community.  
  
 As the last lake is passed, soon I complete the loop. 
  
 I get my closing shot of the trail sign and head back to the motel. 
  
 It's only 1:30 PM and I have the motel pretty much to myself. I figure if I do one more clothes wash, I'll be good til I get back to the Holler. With the machines nearby, I load them up and kick back and relax. 
  
 

Soon the rest of the crew wanders back in and the subject of dinner comes up. I tell them -

"I plan on going back to the Bell Buoy and getting me a big bowl of that seafood chowder."

The rest of the folks decide that it sounds like a plan to them, so we follow Alain into town.

 
  
 They are pretty backed up when we get there, but they managed to work us into a spot on the patio.  
  
 

As we soon find out, our group of 15 or so has quickly overran the kitchen. I feel sorry for the poor lady who is serving us as she is trying to put as good a face on it as she can. I find out she is from Switzerland and she knows exactly where Andermatt is located - one of the places I stayed on my Alps tour. Some folks are a bit stressed over the slow service, but I tell her -

"Just keep me supplied with that fine bread and water, and I'll be a happy camper."

She does and I am. Besides, what punish we suffer - having to sit around and talk to our friends. There are worse things that I have been subjected to.

 
  
 When I do get my chowder, it is just as good as I expected. What more could a feller ask for - good food and good fellowship sitting on a deck in pleasant weather with his friends. Too soon the chowder is gone and it is time head back. The bill sorting is a bit of chore, but we all manage to survive and make it back to our evening abodes. I turn in, wondering what tomorrow holds as my eyelids come crashing down in finality.