Category Archives: Hiking and Nature

Eastbound and Back, Day 21: Newfoundland Notes, Part VI

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 19, 2024, Port aux Basques- The screen in the lounge, at Marine Atlantic’s terminal here, was showing “The Perfect Storm”, the 2000 film about a fishing boat disaster. The weather tonight will be relatively calm, and there were no kids watching this, so I’d say we are dodging a bullet.

I got into town fairly early this afternoon, after a light breakfast at Harbour Grounds, a pleasant little coffee shop in Corner Brook. Today was laundry day, so much of the time was spent at First Choice Convenience Store’s laundromat corner. Afterward, though, I decided to search for the places that were recommended to me, east of town, as hiking venues and one, as a dinner spot. The areas in question were the little villages of Isle aux Morts, Burnt Islands and Margaree. I went first to Burnt Islands, checking out the lime-stained rocks, offshore, that vaguely resembled small ice-coated boulders.

Doubling back to Isle aux Morts, I found the Harvey Trail, named for one George Harvey, an 18th-19th Century immigrant from the Channel Islands, who settled with his wife, Jane, a native of the Port -aux- Basques area and their nine children, in this then remote spot, where at the time, no other people lived. George and his eldest daughter, Ann, rescued several sailors from the sinking ships, the Despatch and the Rankin, in 1828 and 1838, respectively. Here are scenes from the Harvey Trail.

Finally, Margaree, a tiny village that lies southwest of Isle aux Morts, has Seacoast Restaurant, with extraordinarily tasty seafood, beef and pork dishes, served by a group of gracious, very unassuming women. The owner brushes off compliments, but I know she is proud of the operation. It was a vibrant Sunday night crowd, made all the more so by the day being Pentecost Sunday AND the middle of a long Victoria Day weekend.

That made the relatively light crowd on tonight’s sailing to North Sydney seem rather strange, but maybe it’s a sign that people want to celebrate closer to home. I leave off here, after successfully dealing with my bug-a-boo, backing the car up longer than ten feet. The patient ferrymen got me to back Sportage up some forty feet-without banging into anything. That’s progress!

St. James Anglican Church, Port aux Basques, NL
Neighbourhood on north side of Port aux Basques
Burnt Islands,NL
Burnt Islands, NL
The story of George Harvey, Isle aux Morts, NL
Shipwreck capital of Newfoundland
Seacoast Restaurant, Margaree(NL)

Eastbound and Back, Day 20: Newfoundland Notes, Part V

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 18, 2024, Corner Brook- The giddy photographer stopped, rolled down his car window, and called out to the two moose who were nonchalantly grazing away, in a field adjacent to the road. He snapped a couple of photos, as I was passing by in the opposite direction, to tend to other business. When I got back, the shutterbug and moose had disappeared. Oh, well. They are probably not the last moose I will see this trip. There have been four, so far.

After opting for a light breakfast, this morning, I left Carriage Inn around 10:30. The road back to Corner Brook was generally lightly-trafficked and the weather was delightful. A lone cow moose, grazing off the road, was cause for people to flash bright lights at one another. The big elk could have cared less. She was way off the road and the grass must have been sweet.

Carriage Inn, Grand Falls-Windsor
Meeting with Baha’is of Corner Brook
Crow Gulch mural

I arrived at River’s End Motel, around 2, and was directed to use a code, in order to get into my room. This seems to be an anomaly, as yet, absentee owners and a brief, every-other-day housekeeping service. I am only here overnight, so it makes little difference to me. The room is clean and comfortable, so we’re good.

My visit to Baha’i friends here was more old school-a hearty and joyful conversation, of about two hours, followed by a simple and satisfying meal of pizza and chicken soup. Then, more conversation, focusing on ongoing issues with treatment of First Nations people in certain parts of Canada. I have seen some strides being made in that regard, in the west of the country, at least, and in some areas of Cape Breton, but as in the U.S., much remains to be accomplished.

Crow Gulch was an area, largely settled by Miqmaq families, just above a paper mill, on the outskirts of Corner Brook. It was the object of scorn from those who considered themselves “better off”, as the homes were seen as being haphazardly built, with few having electricity or running water. The community lasted from the 1920s until about 1980, when it was vacated and bulldozed. Crow Gulch is now honoured by a mural and by a book of poetry, written by a descendant of two of its residents. Those looking back on the place today recall it as having been a vibrant community, where the joy of close-knot families outweighed the hardships caused by outward poverty.

It is places like Crow Gulch that are as important to me, if not more important than, any swanky or upscale locales. The spirituality of a given place is its most important feature, and such strength of purpose is stronger, quite often, in rural communities than in areas where the pace of life is more brisk. This is recognized by many, in the video below.

Tomorrow marks my final day in Newfoundland, for this year, at least. It’s gratifying that I would be welcome back here, to stand with those making a decent life for themselves in this beautiful and sometimes harsh land of four seasons: Just another place to call home.

Eastbound and Back, Day 18: France in North America, Part II

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 16, 2024, St. Pierre- White-breasted nuthatch sat on a small fir branch, and chirped at me to follow THIS way. Going in the direction he was flying, I heard rushing water, indicating there was a small waterfall. I followed a short path, through the firs, and there was indeed a small, but feisty, stream that had produced the makings of a pair of rills, just noisy enough to catch the attention of bird and man. The nuthatch flew off and I headed back towards the Anse a Pierre Road, and Auberge Quatre Temps.

Small rill, near Anse a Pierre

I seem to be getting greeted more by happy, chatty dogs and small children today. That is a good way to live. A large black lab/Rottweiler mix stood guard at one of the houses I passed, but was more glad to see me than perched ready to guard his owner’s house. A little Shih-tsu came out the sidewalk, a bit later, and wanted to play and have her belly rubbed. Her owner had other plans, and called to her: “Remy! Maintenant!”, so playtime ended. A couple of boys who were heading home for lunch (Students can still do that, here) were curious as to why I was inside the cathedral, when there were no lights on. I didn’t need lights for a brief visit, was my answer. There also was no other activity inside, other than a curious Americain saying a few Baha’i prayers and taking photos.

Cathedral de Sacre Coeur, St. Pierre

Today was a good day for crepes, so I stopped in at Roc Cafe, just as the lunch hour was starting (It’s 12-2, in the French style), for a plate of 3 Fromage Galettes, avec jambon. The young waiter gave a quizzical expression, when I mentioned having enjoyed galettes in Amiens and in Lille, ten years ago. It’s true that the dish is essentially Breton in origin, but other parts of northern France have jumped on the galette bandwagon, much as in the U.S., one can get Maine lobster in Phoenix, jambalaya and gumbo in Buffalo, Cuban sandwiches in Seattle and just about any style of barbecue anywhere besides where the style originated. I did recall later, having had my very first galettes at Daily Gourmand, in Vannes, exactly where they would be expected. Galettes are buckwheat crepes, usually with a savory filling.

As indicated earlier, I spent a good part of the day on the trail. My route went from just north of Quatre Temps to a small rock overlooking Anse a Pierre, and the island of Langlade, five kilometers to the west. There were ups and downs, bogs to be worked around, a section of road, which served as a good marker-as this taiga/tundra landscape is just large enough for a wanderer to get lost. Fortunately, I also learned enough about hiking in boggy terrain, at L’Anse aux Meadows, two years ago, so that I scanned for trails below my vantage point, and was able to stay on course.

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Ile Langlade, from Anse a Pierre

Now, I am back at Quatre Temps, and it is worthwhile to mention dinner. Chef Cristelle is of Michelin quality, even though she would be shocked to hear such a thing. Last night’s fresh-caught, grilled cod was accompanied by smooth risotto and freshly picked lettuce, in a light vinaigrette. This gem of a plate was followed by large pear halves, topped with caramel sauce, vanilla ice cream and not-too-sweet whipped cream. Now you know why, along with the galettes, I was easily enticed into this afternoon’s eight kilometer hike. This evening, Cristelle proposed two pressed smoked salmon cakes, served chilled, with more smoked salmon flakes on a bed of fresh lettuce and cherry tomatoes. That filled the bill nicely. Of course, 3 mini-profiteroles with ice cream and caramel sauce were the dessert, but hey, this is France-for all intents and purposes.

Tomorrow will see me back in Newfoundland, with more joyful adventures to follow-including a visit with Baha’is in Corner Brook. One of them is K’s friend from the Philippines, so I already feel connected.

Eastbound and Back, Day 16: Newfoundland Notes, Part III- Bluster, Followed by Quiet

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 14, 2024, Grand Bank-

As I stood atop Signal Hill, the wind howled in a way that made me think of the few of us taking in the majesty of this St. John’s landmark as intrepid. I immediately thereafter conjured a snarky voice saying “ I can think of another word, ending in -pid.”

The Battery (Cabot Tower), Signal Hill, St. John’s

I had spent an hour or so at a cozy coffee shop, among very warm and friendly folks, so discomfort was not hard to take for a bit. On a less blustery day, I could very well have walked from Battery Cafe to THE Battery, or Cabot Tower, as it is called in memory of the 400th Anniversary of John Cabot’s landing in Newfoundand.

With a sense that I wanted to get to an old haunt, Abbie’s Garden, I punched in directions to TCH West. After getting through the funky neighbourhood of Quidi Vidi, I was westbound, in short order.

Just before turning off on NL 210, I gassed up at the pump. North Atlantic is one of those places where paying at the pump is new, so a hefty security deposit was tacked on. I later learned that this will fall off my tab, in a few days, with only the actual purchase price remaining. Lesson: In Newfoundland, pay inside.

I got to Abbie’s Garden, around 5:30, finding that I was the sole guest. Bruce put me in the same room I had two years ago and came by later, with one of his signature pastries; this time, a freshly baked cinnamon roll.

The place, in a drizzly ambiance, was eerily quiet. Just two older men, at opposite ends of the property, with memories of their respective beloved wives and going forward with new love interests.

I ended the evening watching the first “Hunger Games” film. It struck the same chord as when I first saw it. I am still skeptical of anyone in authority who claims to have all the answers.

Eastbound and Back, Day 15: Newfoundland Notes, Part II

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 13, 2024, St. John’s-

It snowed a bit, across this vast island, on Mother’s Day, reminding a couple of ladies, at the small cafe in Hampden, of the sacrifices they end up making, even on their special days.

Rain and snow are always followed by sunshine, though, and so it was today. After a short walk around Botwood, and checking out the old North American Forces World War II murals, I headed towards Twillingate, on the off chance I’d catch a glimpse of an iceberg or two. It did not happen, but the terrain and crystal-clear waters of New World Island made for a splendid little visit.

So, too, was a stop at Beothuk Interpretation Centre, Boyd’s Cove.The building was closed, but I spent almost two hours walking the paths and sitting in meditation. I left a second rose quartz heart, between two birch trees, at a picnic area, just shy of the Spirit Garden, where I placed a wooden rose, fashioned by a Miqmaq elder on Cape Breton.

More text later, but for now, here are some scenes of Botwood, Twillingate and Boyd’s Cove.

Botwood’s War Memorial
Beothuk Memorial, Botwood
Annie’s Harbourside Restaurant, Twillingate
Water at Sleepy Cove, Twillingate
Long Point Lighthouse,Twillingate
View of Sleepy Cove
Beothuk Interpretation Centre, Boyd’s Cove
Levi’s Landing, Boyd’s Cove

The day ended with rain, darkness and another carefully-guided arrival at Memorial University. More on that and on First Nations people in Newfoundland, in the next few posts.

Eastbound and Back, Day 13: Newfoundland Notes, Part I

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 11, 2024, Corner Brook-

I was able to add this photo, of sunrise on our approach to Channel-Port aux Basques, earlier today. Then, the WP editor kicked in, and announced that “You have no posts”. That was with regard to the app on my i-Phone. That app will remain unused, until I can get that nonsense straightened out. This is one example of why AI will never replace the human mind. AI is quirky, rigid, inflexible. Humans are quirky, too, and can be inflexible, but can be made to see reason. AI is an eternal toddler. Only an adult can guide it to a place of equanimity.

Anyway, upon getting off the ferry, Sportage and I headed to Alma’s Family Restaurant, in a shopping strip mall, east of downtown. A nice young lady, who appeared to be the owner’s daughter, took my order, in business-like but kind fashion. The breakfast was a bit bland, but filling.

Today was a picture postcard Blue Sky day. The storm that folks on Cape Breton warned about, yesterday, has not reached here, yet. So, I headed east, towards Corner Brook which, as you see above, was my destination, after the inadequate sleep I got on the ride over. There was an added concern: Son had a bout of dehydration and is in hospital. I am prepared to cut this trip short, return to Cape Breton and then make my way to Texas, but so far, Aram and Yunhee are not in need of my presence. I will, nonetheless, be in touch with them each day, until he is recovered. While I was sitting still and dealing with that, a young woman, who had been at the gas pumps at the same time as me, was dealing with what sounded like a serious interpersonal issue. She pulled her car behind mine, and stayed close to me, until she felt better enough to drive off. No words were exchanged between us; she just needed someone who felt trustworthy, for about twenty minutes.

After driving around the Stephenville and Gallants areas (Gallant being my Nana’s family name, that of the ancestors who came from France to the Maritimes, by way of Quebec.), I pulled into Corner Brook.

Lake George, east of Gallants.
North Brook, Gallants

A couple of aborted attempts at finding lodging-“We are waiting for our cleaning crew”; no one in the office ended with my taking a room at the majestic Glynmill Inn.

I also took in a couple of Corner Brook’s finer natural areas: The Bay of Islands is bordered by a heartfelt Rock Art Wall, where people have left mementos of what is in their hearts.

Parents’ worst nightmare.
Bay of Islands

There is also a trail, from Glynmill to downtown. Passing by a small pond, it leads to Corner Brook’s unique City Hall.

So, having managed to reach an understanding with AI, I present you, once again, with photos taken on my i-Phone. Hope all is well on your end.

Eastbound and Back, Day 9, Part 2: The Tides and Their Reversals

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 7, 2024, Shediac- The swirling waters reminded me of pictures, both painted and photographic, that I’ve seen of Skaggerak and Kattegat, between the North and Baltic Seas. The currents near the confluence of the Bay of Fundy and Saint John River are nowhere near as intense as the Scandinavian maelstroms, but they do appear, for all the world, like reversing waterfalls. The phenomenon here is the result of the interaction between the Bay and the River, and as you might guess, is most intense at high tide.

I stopped here, on the west side of Saint John, to take in this phenomenon which, along with Moncton’s Magnetic Hill, is one of New Brunswick’s signature geographic anomalies. Here are a few shots of the festivities, from both the base of the hill and from the window of the concessionaire’s dining room, which had just closed for the day.

Reversing Falls, Saint John, NB, from Wolastoq Park

Reversing Falls, from base of hill.

Reversing Falls, from concessionaire’s restaurant

Wolastoq Park, on the hill above the Falls, commemorates key figures in New Brunswick history, by means of tall wooden carved likenesses. Here are three such statues. First is Benedict Arnold, the skilled,discounted hero of Ticonderoga who became synonymous with treason in the emerging United States. He ended up being cast out of Canada, as well, ending his days in London.

Next is the more well-regarded Sir John Robertson, a philanthropist of the mid-Nineteenth Century, who fought for the well-being of the common person.

Then, there was Francoise-Marie Jacquelin, who fought far more powerful men to defend her husband’s economic bastion: Fort La Tour. Though she lost the fight, in the end, Francoise stands as a clarion caller to women and girls who seek to make their rightful mark in the world.

Finally, there is a depiction of the legend of Koluscap, the First Man of the Maliseet, as well as of my Penobscot ancestors, putting a selfish Beaver in his place, after Beaver’s dam deprived the Maliseet people of the water they needed to survive. Beaver lost his giant size, the story goes and is forever consigned to be a small animal.

Saint John was, thankfully, not at rush hour, so I headed east to the town where my Nana’s paternal forebears first arrived on North American soil. Shediac was a place of refuge for my great-great-great grandfathers, who had come here from Quebec, in the mid-Eighteenth Century, following the attempt by the English to deport French-speaking residents of that colony, after the fall of Montreal and of Quebec-Ville. So, as with Rouen and Montreal, I feel at home here.

Eastbound and Back, Day 9, Part 1: A St. Croix Morning

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 7, 2024, Shediac- I made it out of the motel, an hour ahead of time. Can’t have anyone thinking I am a motel room moocher. Actually, I am again dealing with a time change: Atlantic Daylight Time, which takes in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and Labrador, as well as Bermuda and the eastern Caribbean, is one hour ahead of Eastern Daylight Time. So, getting things together was crucial for more than just avoiding embarrassment.

Crumbs is a nice little coffee shop and cafe, in the midst of downtown Calais. The place had intermittent business, while I was enjoying a chorizo skillet and coffee. That suited me fine, as I had some catching up to do on my journal. I felt the need to get out and walk afterward, and so, spotted a Riverwalk Trail across the street. Walking a brisk 2 mile round trip, along the flat trail, gave plenty of relief to muscles that had been feeling pent-up, from being in a car for much of five days, and largely sitting for two more. There would be more walking, once I got to Reversing Falls, in Saint John. Here, though, are some scenes of the St. Croix, and Calais.

Calais Free Public Library

The St. Croix River, with St. Stephen, NB across the way.

Motley retaining wall, along the River Walk

Looking backwards, towards the trailhead

Nexus Sculpture, a Schoodic Symposium piece, by Miles Chapin, and made of St. Croix Valley granite, graces the lawn in front of Calais Free Library. As Nexus means “connection”, it fits Calais, as a border town, perfectly.

The roads of Calais are being patched, resealed and re-paved, so I had to walk carefully about, in order to capture the Sarsaparilla Building, one of the extant late-Victorian Era factory buildings that still stand in Calais, as they do in several New England industrial towns. Calais’ stock in trade was wood, and wooden crafts. It also boasted Dr. Thomson-and sarsaparilla, a dietary tonic.

With that, I hopped back in Sportage, took my turn going through the Border Checkpoint, was let through with only a query as to why, who and how long- and was en route to Saint John and beyond.

NEXT: Wolastoq Park and Reversing Falls

The Road to (Mayer’s) Grapevine

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 26, 2024- Tooling along the gravel-coated roads in Grapevine Canyon, about 45 minutes southeast of Prescott, Hiking Buddy and I found several large, fairly new houses and an old mining camp or two.

The actual goal of our quest-Grapevine Trail, was a bit east of the residential areas, so we backtracked and drove along a short, graded dirt road, just to the left of the graveled jobs. The walk today was, essentially, a scouting mission-first a .7-mile hike from the parking area to a green livestock gate, then about .5 of the .7 further mile to the actual trailhead that leads into the inner canyon. There will be time in June, maybe, or late October (as things stand now), for a further foray into the Grapevine of Mayer.

Here are some scenes that my i-Phone afforded me, after I headed out the door without my trusty Samsung digital.

The v-shaped ridges form a splendid backdrop to the jagged shale outcropping, that seem to have been dropped, willy-nilly, by the glaciers of the Mesolithic Period (26,000 years ago).

Once past the cattle gate, the rim of the inner canyon itself came into clearer focus.

Grapevine Creek will fill this bed, once the monsoons arrive, in July-September.

The sometimes jagged road would not be kind to Sportage, parked a mile or so back. It does make an agreeable hiking trail, in and of itself.

As we walked back to the car, this small group of outcroppings appealed to me, as a possible spur hike in a future visit.

The morning put yet another area of Unlimited Arizona on my radar screen. After nearly 44 years here, off and on, the Southwest never ceases to amaze.

Commonalities

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 22,2024- We are all part of an astonishing web of consciousness.

Bees are known to play with small wooden balls, pushing them around, until one of the bees falls. Octopuses recall certain kinds of fish, visually, rather than by the sound of their swish. Baby spiders scamper to catch up to their mother, as she walks along the floor, toward the bathroom cupboard. Corvids, from ravens to jays, recognize the faces of friends and foes alike, from day to shining day. A sea turtle recognizes its human handler’s voice, nibbling either lettuce or spinach, when given a choice. Androcles removed a thorn from the paw of the lion and the great cat purred, as his eyes were shining. A mother baboon tended the wounded baby meerkat grooming and feeding the little one, until its health was intact.

We all feel, all remember, and most can recognize themselves in a mirror, if even after some repetitions in front of the reflector. Instinct is common to us all, and so is industry; so is the use of tools, no matter how simple. None of us enjoys living in chaos, or in filth. Indeed no one is more fastidious about cleaning a place up than a scavenger. Hornets, if undisturbed, or not enticed by scent, will leave humans alone. Poisonous snakes, if not cornered or threatened, will not pursue a human, with the intent of injecting venom.

May Earth long enjoy the presence of its diverse creatures.