Driving Canada's Highlands: Part 2

Another one of my look-backwards posts, reliving

 past travel adventures in various places.
This time it's my 2005 tour of Nova Scotia's famed
scenic highway, the Cabot Trail, over 2 days --
one sunny and one cloudy/misty with scattered showers.

This is Part 2 of 2 parts.

 

In Part 1 we got as far as Pleasant Bay (Map # 7), which is the point at which the Cabot Trail turns east across the peninsula to the far side of the Cape Breton Highlands.

Here there are two river valleys which between them nearly cut the plateau in two from west to east, with only a single steep ridge between them.  So the road now turns east, following the valley of the Grande Anse River upstream.  Eventually you come to the steeper climb up what is known as North Mountain.  You snake your way up, across, and down the other side into the valley of the Aspy River.  Although there are a couple of pullout parking areas on North Mountain, the view is not as dramatic as some, since it basically consists of more tree-mantled hills, all about the same height.  (Map # 8)

Back down off the mountain again, you cross the Aspy River and then a sign on your right indicates the turnoff for Beulach Ban Falls.  This lacy cascade is certainly worth the 3-kilometre detour to have a look, especially if there’s been rainy weather.  (The falls were almost dry in 2005, so I've had to borrow a pic from the Internet).

 

At the eastern end of the Aspy River valley you come to the village of Cape North (Map # 9).  It’s not actually anywhere near the northern tip of the Island, but you can turn off here to go in that direction on a side road.  That’s a beautiful drive if you have time.  Indeed, the road north to Bay St. Lawrence and Capstick runs through one of the most Scottish-looking areas of Cape Breton, due to the relative lack of trees.  (Map # 10) The bare grassy upland looks to me very like the machair (grassland) of the Hebrides. 

In Cape North village itself, there's a local area museum which is well worth a visit.  There's also a good eatery and this is probably about the right time for lunch.  I’m especially fond of Morrison’s, which is housed in a former general store and serves very good food at “fair” prices.  Your first thought may be that the prices are wildly unfair, but I’m thinking of the fact that almost all of the restaurant’s supplies have to be trucked into this tiny and remote community over the same long and winding road that we are enjoying as tourists. 

After North Cape, the road becomes a faster drive across easier country to the east coast at Neil’s Harbour.  There’s also an alternate, slower, and much more twisted coastal road to Neil’s Harbour.  If you have the time for that detour, you certainly should take it as you are not missing anything much on the main road.  But be warned that the coastal road in this stretch has no safe places to stop and take pictures. 

From Neil’s Harbour, you then turn south along the shoreline towards Ingonish.  After a few kilometres, be sure to stop on the way for the spectacular scenery of the beach at Black Brook Cove.  Swimming is also popular here.  (Map # 11)

 

If you want to extend your tour to two nights, then Ingonish is the place for you.  It’s a sprawling settlement or chain of settlements that straggles along the road for many kilometres, but in that space there are a number of restaurants, motels, cottages for rent, and the like -- and two spectacular beaches. 

On the rocky headland between the two Ingonish beaches called Middle Head stands a classic resort, the Keltic Lodge, which is open only for the summer season.  Cheap it is not, but the location helps to make it worthwhile if you can afford it.  If you’re a golfer, there’s a fine public course adjacent to the Lodge; it is run by the National Park.  (Map # 12)

There's also a walking trail which gives striking views.

The south Ingonish beach (which can be seen across the bay from the Lodge) has lifeguards in summer, and sits right next to an inland lake which has a lovely beach as well.  As you listen to the pronounced sound-effects of the surf on Ingonish South Beach (a loud sucking sound followed by a roaring thump as the wave crashes down), it’s sobering to realize that the next solid land in the direction you’re facing is somewhere in France.  On a warm, sunny summer afternoon, there are not many nicer places to spend your time in Cape Breton.

Wherever you are on the shores of Ingonish, the view is dominated by the huge headland towering up to the south of you.  This is Cape Smokey (or just plain "Smokey"; it gets named both ways, and sometimes gets misspelled as "Smoky"), and you are heading that way.  It probably gets its name because of the frequency with which the summit is shrouded in fog or cloud.  (Map # 13)

 

South of Ingonish, you drive in a big arc all around the scenic bay to Ingonish Ferry, but don’t expect to find places to stop and take pictures.  You are now out of the National Park and such niceties don’t exist here.  You have one last big climb, up and over Cape Smokey.  There’s a small picnic park on top of this headland, and then comes the slow, snaky climb down the south side, which is actually the most twisted part of the entire Cabot Trail.  And there you are, enjoying the drive on the inland side, away from the edge!

At this point, the fun is nearly over.  The road makes its way south through farm and pastureland with a few tiny settlements and no notable climbs or curves.  But you have one last decision to make.  Time will be a factor.

Some 60 kilometres south of Cape Smokey, you will come to a road junction where a sign points straight ahead for route 312 to Englishtown or to the right for the Cabot Trail.  You can take this right-turn route and drive all around the deep bay at St. Ann’s to rejoin Trans-Canada Highway Route 105.  It’s a pretty drive, but not as powerful as the scenic drama you’ve passed through already.  But if you are short of time, you should continue straight ahead at the junction, following the signs on the road to the Englishtown Ferry.

If you take the ferry route, you will find after a few kilometres that you are driving along the lengthy barachois that you saw from Kelly’s Mountain at the start of the trip.  At the end of the barachois, the narrow channel is crossed by a cable ferry which operates frequently during daylight hours.  The crossing takes only a minute or so.  (Map # 14)

Follow Route 312 on the other side through the village of Englishtown and back out to its end at the Trans-Canada.  Whichever route you take, turn left (uphill) on Route 105 towards the summit of Kelly’s Mountain again – and so back to Sydney.  Or, if it suits your plans better, a right turn will take you west and so eventually to the Canso Causeway which links Cape Breton Island to the Nova Scotia mainland.

 

Obviously, your time or lack of it will determine how long you can spend on the Cabot Trail – but my advice is to not sell yourself short, for every viewpoint and turn and side road has its charms, and exploring these by-ways is a major part of the total experience.

If you consult the National Parks website at Cape Breton Highlands National Park you can find a detailed map of the park which shows the wealth of hiking trails available in all parts of the park.  After all, the Cabot Trail -- spectacular as it is -- only scratches the surface as it winds its way around the outermost edges of the huge wilderness area contained within the National Park.

Driving Canada's Highlands: Part 1

Another one of my look-backwards posts, reliving

 past travel adventures in various places.
After my recent cruise around the Maritimes, I decided
that I wanted to share my adventures on the Cabot Trail.

This is Part 1 of 2 parts.

A foreigner or visiting alien could easily be excused for thinking that North Americans were seized with an uncontrollable urge to climb.  All over the continent, during the 1930s, engineers and massive crowds of workers were designing and building highways to heaven, paved roads that took motorists up to the summits of the highest mountains.

Of course, there’s always some other angle to the story.  These were the years of the Great Depression, when nationwide unemployment rates often exceeded 20% or even 25%, and all this scenic road construction was a useful make-work project to employ more men.

Unlike some of the more practical highways that would come later, these were not designed as fast links between different communities.  They were purely for scenic enjoyment, to bring people in the Age of the Automobile into closer proximity with the sublime in nature.

Sometimes the roads went right up a single mountain (Pikes Peak, Mount Washington, Whiteface Mountain, Mount Revelstoke – to name a few).  In other cases, the road followed along a ridge line of a range of mountains giving a parade of spectacular views (Blue Ridge Parkway, Trail Ridge Road) or along a chain of valleys walled in by spectacular mountains (Icefields Parkway).

I’ve been fortunate enough to drive a number of those scenic roads through the years, and enjoyed them all.  Now, inspired by my recent cruise around the Maritimes, I want to share my experiences in years gone by with one of the fairest of them all: the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.

 

What triggered the urge to write this was the sight of fellow passengers on my cruise taking a coach tour from Sydney to the Cabot Trail.  They would get as far up the east side of the island as the resort community of Ingonish, and while they would see some lovely country along the way they would miss many of the Trail’s most spectacular scenic glories. 

While it is possible to go right around the entire circuit and back to Sydney in a single day, it makes for a long day indeed – and you can miss almost as much as you see.  I recommend at least a two-day circuit, and here I will give you a couple of tips for how best to organize the trip.

By the way, the pictures in this two-part post come mostly from a trip around the Trail which I took in two days in 2005, with sunny weather all the way on day 1, but clouds and a few showers on day 2.  Unpredictable weather is the name of the game, just as it is in the Highlands and Islands of Western Scotland

First question: which direction to go around?  If you are at all edgy, nervous, or squeamish about driving on steep, twisting hills, I recommend that you go around clockwise.  Simple reason: on all the worst hills, you will be on the side of the road closest to the rising hill and farthest from the edge that falls away!

That mattered a lot on my first trip around the Trail in 1984.  The steep, twisting stretch of road up and over Cape Smoky was being repaved that summer (or maybe paved for the first time, for all I know), and driving on that gravel was quite an experience.  The road was narrow, and got narrower on a few of the hairpin bends, and there were no fences or guardrails on the edges.  I was very grateful to be on the inside that day!  Now, it’s all beautifully paved with paved shoulders, and guardrails everywhere.

Starting from Sydney, you follow the provincial Route 125 around the head end of Sydney Harbour to North Sydney, where you pick up Route 105, the Trans-Canada Highway, heading west.  The first awesome scenic sight comes when you cross the Seal Island Bridge over the Bras d’Or Lake, and then climb the long (but fast) hill up Kelly’s Mountain (Map # 1).  If the weather is clear, stop at the viewpoint near the top to look back down on the bridge. 



Then, across the summit, stop again for the view on the other (north) side, featuring a huge barachois (a natural spit of sand and rocks) which looks exactly as if some engineer were building a giant causeway across the narrows at Englishtown. 

However, that’s for the return trip.  You continue west on Route 105 down the hill and all the way to the lakeside town of Baddeck.  Baddeck was chosen as the place for his summer home by Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone.  In the town there is a fine museum devoted to Bell’s life and career.  (Map # 2)

Take some time to visit it, and you’ll become aware that here was a true Renaissance man – the sort of man whose mind is always questioning whatever it experiences, and then trying to find the answers to the questions.  The telephone was only one of many inventive lines of inquiry that Bell pursued throughout his long life. 

After the museum, continue west just a few more minutes and look for signs on the right indicating the Cabot Trail to Margaree Harbour (Exit 7).  Turn right and get ready for bumps.  This stretch of the road is often not as well maintained as it might be.  You climb up and over Hunters Mountain.  This is not especially steep or winding, nor is there any particular viewpoint.  Think of Hunters Mountain as your audition, or perhaps you could call it your first rehearsal.

The road continues downhill to the north into a valley occupied by the Third Lake O’Law, then the Second, and finally the First.  Look for a provincial picnic park on your right at the First Lake O'Law, and stop for a few minutes.  You’ll get a lovely view of the lake that you won’t see from the road, and if you’ve ever been in the Scottish Highlands, the resemblance (apart from the lush forest) is unmistakable.  (Map # 3) 

Continue north down the valley to the village of Margaree Harbour.  After you cross the Margaree River, there’s a major cultural shift in store as you enter the village of Belle-Côte.  Welcome to the terre des Acadiens – the homeland of survivors of the great expulsion in 1755.  The people here are descendents of those who eventually made their way back to Atlantic Canada, but to Cape Breton and New Brunswick rather than to their former homeland in the Annapolis Valley.

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by French names of places, businesses, and roads.  Stop for a visit and you’ll meet friendly people whose first language is their own Acadian French, a dialect not precisely like either the French of France or the French of Quebec.

The land has changed too.  You’re travelling over a hummocky plain edged by the Gulf of St. Lawrence, mostly covered in grassland, which is heavily eroded and shaped by wind and water.  The Cape Breton Highlands still loom away off to your right, but for now you’re in another world.

A half-hour or so after crossing the Margaree River, you come to the town of Cheticamp, the largest community of this Acadian region.  Here there are multiple restaurants, guesthouses, motels, and other tourist services. (Map # 4) I’ve had a wonderful stay at Auberge Doucet, and heartily recommend it – for both the modern, comfortable rooms and the excellent breakfast on offer. 

However, if you must stick to brand names for breakfast, there is a Tim Hortons right on the main street. Cheticamp is an excellent place to stop for the night, because it’s the largest town in the region, and the last town before you enter the Cape Breton Highlands National Park and begin hill-climbing in earnest.  Best to be well rested!  It’s also a fishing port, and if you are lucky to arrive in season you can feast on fresh-off-the-boat snow crab.

Don’t be in a huge rush to hit the road the next day; sometimes there is a lot of early fog.  Plan to go by 9:00 am or so and you should be fine.  And be aware that you will be driving very slowly for much of the distance -- for various reasons.  You’ll stop at the entrance to the park to pay for your visitor’s permit, and then continue north along the Cabot Trail.

This is the classic Cape Breton landscape familiar from a thousand travel brochures and ads.  The road swoops up and down two big hills in succession.  There are multiple pull-out areas on the left side and you should take advantage of each one to view the changing landscape as you go.  Otherwise you might miss such sights as La Grande Falaise ("The Great Cliff") or Pillar Rocks.

 

At the bottom of the second big descent you cross Corney Brook and then encounter a roadside sign with a message which looks a little absurd at first glance.

 

However, it makes sense when you realize that the massive headland looming ahead is named after a man whose last name was "French".  The sign is not meant as a linguistic absurdity!  (Map # 5)

As you climb higher on French Mountain, the road eventually turns away from the shore and follows a narrowing creek valley all the way to the summit.  No doubt some visitors are very surprised that there isn’t another side of the mountain!  The Cape Breton Highlands are actually a single large plateau, with the edges all carved and eroded into scenic headlands and promontories by weathering and by rivers draining from the top.  Here's an aerial view (not mine) of French Mountain and the coast back towards Cheticamp which makes the point clear.

Near the crest of French Mountain, stop for this view back down towards the ocean, now well over 400 metres below you.
 

The road continues for some 20 kilometres across the plateau.  No doubt you’ll notice the stunted trees.  The weather up here can get pretty fierce in all seasons, without warning, and even in summer you should bring clothing suitable for cold and wet weather.  I've encountered temperatures of only 3 or 4 degrees Celsius (i.e. in the 30s in Fahrenheit) in July.

A sign along the plateau indicates the Bog Walk.  Don’t pass up on this.  You’ll learn some startling and fascinating things about the chain of life in this desolate and apparently unfriendly environment.  The twisted trees clearly illustrate that life is a struggle for survival here. 



You will certainly see the insect-eating pitcher plants, and with any luck you may even catch one in the act of dining. 



You may also see moose.  As with any National Park, explanatory signs and placards provide all kinds of information.  (Map # 6)
 

A few minutes' drive beyond the Bog Walk you'll drive along a narrow ridge which falls off into valleys on both sides.  This is called the Boar's Back.  Only a little way farther and you start to see yellow warning signs of a steep hill ahead.  Pay attention!  You’re about to drive back down off the plateau, and the really important sign is the one that warns you to put your vehicle into low gear and let the engine control your descent.  They’re not kidding.  I once drove down this snaky hill (called MacKenzie Mountain) behind a Mercedes whose driver didn’t heed the signs, and by the time we got to the bottom that car’s brakes were visibly smoking.  I could smell them burning for half the descent. 

By all means enjoy all the viewpoints of the northward coast as you come down that twisting and steep hill – because the road won’t take you that way.  (Map # 7)  Those northward headlands look even more formidable than the ones you've already climbed!

 

 

 

This is about as far north as we get.  The little settlement at the bottom of MacKenzie Mountain lives up to its name of Pleasant Bay, but I doubt that the sole garage there stocks brake parts for cars like a Mercedes! 

 

(The story continues in Part 2)

Coastal Adventure # 11: Navy Day

Our final enroute stop of the cruise was in Norfolk, Virginia.  This is definitely a naval town, with the partner city of Newport News just across the sheltered body of water which carries that intriguing name of Hampton Roads (“Roads” in this context is short for “roadstead”, which used to be the name for the harbour of an anchorage port, as opposed to a port with docks).  A lot of American naval history was written in Norfolk and Hampton Roads, or on ships that home-ported there.

The harbour opens off the broader waters of Chesapeake Bay.  Before we could even get to the dock, therefore, we had to enter the Bay and that gave us an excellent view of what looks like the highway from nowhere much to no place at all.

But actually, this is a segment of the 18-mile Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel which carries US Route 13 across the mouth of the Bay, connecting the Norfolk/Hampton/Virginia Beach area with the small northeastern portion of Virginia on the tip of the Delmarva Peninsula (that name comes from “DELaware/MARyland/VirginiA”).  Most of the crossing is made on low-level bridges, but the two main shipping channels in and out of Chesapeake Bay are traversed by mile-long tunnels connecting pairs of artificial islands.  I drove across this remarkable crossing many years ago, but didn’t have the good fortune to drive under a ship the way some of today’s drivers did!

After we turned into Hampton Roads we proceeded down a long line of docks with naval ships parked in them.  The U. S. Navy must figure there’s nothing here to hide because they’re letting cruise ships sail past with decks and balconies lined with eager amateur photographers. 

The ship passed the cruise terminal, and then pivoted on the spot before returning to the dock – stirring up lots of silt from the harbour bottom in the process.  It makes almost an artistic sight, considering the force with which the side thrusters are agitating it.

I only took a short visit ashore, mainly to get some pictures of BB-64, U.S.S. Wisconsin, a battleship built before World War Two, which last saw action in the 1991 Gulf War!  It’s now a floating exhibit of the Nauticus Maritime Museum.  Needless to say, I love Wisconsin’s unofficial nickname: “Wisky”!  

On the way back to the ship, I passed (outside the museum) this fine example of a long-lost art form: the ship’s figurehead, found in the olden days on the bow of any sailing ship whose owner could afford one. 

And that was the last port of call for this cruise!  We then had two days at sea to rest from all the port-hopping before it was time to say goodbye to Caribbean Princess in Fort Lauderdale.  Those sea days were absolutely delightful: sunny, warm, and a smooth sea over which the ship glided with scarcely any hint of motion at all.

I have to say this cruise has worked out much better than I hoped.  Although the ship is huge, the size is not especially noticeable – nor does it even seem particularly crowded.  There are enough public spaces to distribute the crowd around at most times.  The only real drawback is a lack of places to sit down and rest in public space when the weather is cold and wet outside – the outdoor pool decks being out of the question.  After all, you can’t exactly camp in one of the bars without being expected to buy a drink! 

It has, on the whole, been a fun cruise, and I’ve certainly lost my dislike of big cruise ships – but my preference for smaller ships remains strong all the same.

Coastal Adventure # 10: Still a Wonderful Town!

Ironic, that’s what it is.  After over 50 years of never setting foot in the Big Apple, I’ve now been into New York City twice in barely three months!  And both times, it’s been a strictly time-limited visit on a tight schedule. 

Although today’s 4.5-hour bus tour struggled mightily with traffic jams at every turn, we managed to see a fair bit of the city, get a feel for some of the different neighbourhoods in Manhattan, visit four main sites that everyone was glad to see up close (however briefly), and gave me what I most wanted – a good list of places to go and things to see the next time I am here!

However, I certainly have to say that a bus tour is probably the least efficient way to see New York City.  Shipmates who took the "Hop On, Hop Off" tour said that they only had time for 2 or 3 stops before they had to head back to the ship.

At any rate, are a few of the sights du jour for today’s brilliantly sunny and 15C (59F) tour of a city which is truly a “wonderful town”.

First stop was at the site of the World Trade Center.  Here is one of the two memorial fountains.  The black ledge around the rim is engraved with the names of the victims.

The northern limit of our tour was at 59^th Street, the southern edge of Central Park.  Farther than this we did not get because our ship was docked in Brooklyn’s Cruise Terminal and we needed a fair chunk of time just to get to and from there.

We then drove down Fifth Avenue for a short stop at Rockefeller Center.  The Christmas tree from Nova Scotia isn’t up yet, but the skating rink is going full tilt.

The Rockefeller Center’s tallest tower makes an impressive mark on the skyline.

And just a block over on Fifth Avenue sits the glorious newly-cleaned spectacle of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a beautiful Gothic Revival masterpiece.

After we got back to the ship, and I had lunch, I went up topsides and got these spectacular views of the city and of the Statue of Liberty.  Both were plainly visible from the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal.  The foreground of the city picture is Governor’s Island, which used to be a military base with forts.

For me, the real highlight of the day was the “sailaway” party on the upper decks at 4:30 pm.  

The DJ was spinning records that had New York themes, the sky was turning dramatic as clouds moved in around the setting sun, and if the breeze was picking up a bit too much it was still pleasant – if cool.  And the views as we slowly slid out of the harbour were incredible.  The city, with the setting sun illuminating the glass walls of the buildings:

The Verrazano-Narrows Bridge with the Caribbean Princess sliding under – and not, apparently, with a lot of room to spare.

Coastal Adventure # 9: The Ultimate Cottage Life Show

Our next stop was in Newport, Rhode Island.  This was another summer getaway of the very rich and famous.  Unlike Bar Harbor, though, the very rich and famous didn’t come here to get away from it all.  They came here and brought it all with them.  I’ve no doubt that many of the summer homes in Newport rivalled or even exceeded in scale their owners’ winter homes in New York (or wherever else).  Certainly, the Newport “season” was just as excessive as the city “season” for daytime calls, teas, dinners, evening parties, suppers, and debutante balls.  So the biggest single sight-seeing attraction in Newport is the chance for us ninety-nine percenters to visit one or more of these mansions and see how one-tenth of the other one percent lived.

And that’s a pity, because the older portions of Newport contain many beautiful gems of colonial architecture and much history.  In many ways, this is as ideal a town to explore on foot as Quebec or Bar Harbor.

So I explored on foot first.  I didn’t have time to get right down into the old harbour district, which contains many of the historic buildings – and many of the quirky boutiques and restaurants.  But I did poke around the district behind the marina, which includes significant public buildings from back in the day, and some lovely old colonial houses as well – many now serving as bed and breakfast inns.

After exploring that district, I joined my bus tour which took us along the rocky shores of Ocean Avenue and down Bellevue Avenue, the locations of ninety percent of the wealthy class summer homes. 

We then had a tour of The Elms, one of the numerous mansions preserved and kept up and (where necessary) restored by the Newport Preservation Trust, founded and significantly endowed by billionaire tobacco heiress Doris Duke.  It’s difficult to photograph many of the mansions on the tour bus fly-by, but I can assure you that in point of overall size The Elms is one of the more modest houses – although I’ve been reliably informed that its interior décor is second to none.  The point that really intrigued me in the recorded guided tour was the assertion that the house was designed primarily as a machine for entertaining; its function as a residence is more of a by-product.  The last picture of the kitchen range (sorry it's a bit blurry) clearly proves that point.