Day ride – Cabot Trail loop (clockwise)
Tue Sep 5, 2023
(~199 miles)

We were up around 06:30 to review the weather and finalize today’s ride plan over our breakfast, which for me included a couple frozen sausages from the convenience store as well as one of those magnificent plate-sized cinnamon rolls from High Wheel. Yum! Char enjoyed a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios.

After reviewing the ongoing weather pattern including the storm approaching just off-coast in the Atlantic, we decided that sticking to the northwest of Cape Breton seemed the driest course of action for today. That meant our second run of the Cabot Trail in as many days, but this time we’d run it in the clockwise direction. Everyone says you should ride the Trail in both directions to get the full experience of all the scenery, so we had no qualms about using up another day on that beautiful drive!

Our intent was to get in at least one decent hike while staying here on Cape Breton. Char wanted to walk by the ocean, so the popular Skyline Trail was out of contention for this trip. We’d previously targeted the Middle Head Trail in Ingonish until yesterday, when the friendly barista at the café recommended a place called White Point, at the northern end of the island, as his vote for best hike. Always listen to the locals! That location also seemed like it would be spared from today’s isolated rain bands, so we adjusted our plans accordingly.

We decided to explore local roads to head south out of Baddeck, just to see something different than the same few miles of Highway 105. There is actually only one such route, it would seem, so we picked up Old Margaree Road at the main intersection in town and followed it upslope and inland, past the 105 exit ramps. The weather clouds were socked in over the lake, but I was confident we’d be reaching clearer weather shortly. The road turns to well-graded gravel fairly quickly, but it’s flat and very manageable even two-up as it winds gently through the scrubby woodlands. There are a few private houses scattered along the way, and one of the residents had decorated their driveway area with all manner of toy cars, trucks and tractors!

After hitting the end of the road and regaining welcome pavement on the Cabot Trail, we proceeded to get stuck in the island’s equivalent to morning rush hour – a big rig hauling a big excavator plus a couple of cars trundling along behind it. Being early in the morning and without many passing zones or straightaways to pass two vehicles, we were stuck behind for a couple miles at least before the sightlines opened up and I was able to overtake. Ahhh, open road! Oh wait, is that a field of sunflowers?! Nope we can’t stop after passing those cars! But I’ll slow down though to grab the pic. 🙂

By now we’d emerged from the clouds sitting over the eastern portion of the island and were flying along under bright blue morning skies with abundant sunshine. Whoo-hooo! Despite having just ridden here yesterday, everything already looked very different from the new angle, and with nicer weather. Near the hamlet of Margaree Forks, we came up alongside the Margaree River for a while, the flowing stream looking pretty and making us happy to be out on two wheels today.

A quick final look at the radar app confirmed we’d be enjoying this gorgeous clear weather for most of the day at least. The storm system was continuing to throw off weather from the southeast, so it was likely we’d see some of it’s effect towards the end of the ride.

After crossing the bridge at Margaree Harbour where the river empties, we found ourselves back on that same magic carpet ride from yesterday, with gently winding tarmac curving peacefully through the rolling green grass and scrublands close to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Just gorgeous pastoral scenery that could have been lifted from Ireland or Scotland (at least what I imagine them to look like) and plunked down here on the wrong side of the Atlantic for us to enjoy. No wonder early settlers from those countries must have felt so at-home.

Char caught a few more Acadian flags whipping in the breeze today as we entered and passed through the town of Chéticamp once again. She snapped a bit more of the village itself, including some very cute little buildings lining the main drag as well as several structures painted with the Acadian flag motif and colors.

At the north end of town, we pulled in to check out the Aucoin Bakery, which was earmarked on the NER route as a good coffee stop. The bakery is a tiny one-story building, with an even smaller front customer area, but the glass cases and shelves behind the workers were packed with bread, pies, and pastries of all sizes and flavors.

There were just a few customers in line ahead of us, a mix of locals and tourists it would seem. Though I was still pretty full after the big cinnamon roll breakfast this morning, we ordered a couple pastries to sample along with our coffee. I asked if they sold pie by the slice, but disappointingly the answer was no. 🙁 At the last moment, we also decided to order a couple ready-made sandwiches and some cookies to take with us for a picnic lunch during our hike later today, rather than stop in a restaurant for lunch. it would save more time for get the hike in and we’re TRYING to be somewhat thrifty at least!

Char walked our food across the small side street to some picnic tables (Canada!) next to the bakery’s larger gravel overflow parking lot, while I motored the bike over to join her. Apparently, the bakery must get a significant number of tourist buses and RVs stopping in to sample their wares on the regular. For now, however, we had the place to ourselves. Despite the bright sun and lack of shade, we enjoyed our coffee break while chatting about what’s ahead.

What was just ahead was re-entering the Cape Breton Highlands National Park! Shortly after finishing our coffee and resuming our ride, we finished our little dip inland to cross the Chéticamp River and were back among the lovely coastal mountains. Emerging from the first valley, we descended toward the short neck of land connecting the Presqu’ile headland to the main shoreline. I remember this section from yesterday, but at the time we were on the tail end of our riding day and trying to keep moving along.

The road here weaves between two small ponds at sea level, and we turned off the pavement onto a short gravel drive to enjoy the scenery by a small rocky beach strewn with bleached driftwood. A couple of small sea stacks accented the lovely granite cliff of the headland we’d just come over, and the beach roses were in bloom. Research later determined the larger formation to be known as Pillar Rock.

While we’d decided not to make quite as many stops at the scenic vistas today, I couldn’t resist pulling over once more at La Bloc Look-off. Even though we’d just been here yesterday, the difference in weather gave it a fresh new look that just cried out to be photographed, though of course pictures do not do these landscapes any real justice.

For the next half hour, we simply enjoyed riding those curves, taking in the views, and breathing in the salt air. Magnifico! All the way up the coast and then cutting up and into the highlands as the road cuts around the Skyline Trail ridgeline before coming back down to pass through Pleasant Bay.

A visit to the Wreck Cove General Store, on the far side of the Trail near Ingonish, had been on my list of to-do’s for this trip. It was closed when we passed by yesterday morning, and was also closed on Tuesdays (today), meaning we’re going to miss out on that stop during this trip. So when we spotted the small Cardinal Points gift shop in Pleasant Bay with an Open sign and no vehicles in the lot, it seemed like a great opportunity to pick up a couple stickers.

It was your typical gift shop, stuffed to the brim with tourist kitsch like Cabot Trail t-shirts and sweatshirts, local handicrafts, antiques, and of course a wall of stickers, keychains and other paraphernalia. The woman manning the register greeted us warmly (we were starting to get somewhat used to the genuine friendliness up here) and turned out to be quite a talker! We ended up chatting for a good 10 minutes or so, about life this far up on the island in the remote village, the different tourist seasons, and what had led her here. She was not Acadian herself but referred to them as “the Acadians”, making it clear they are a pretty well-defined sub-community. I mentioned I was of Acadian descent and she recognized the surname as shared by one or two residents down closer to Chéticamp.

After securing a few souvenir stickers, we bid the good lady adieu and picked up the Trail once again. We quickly made the eastward turn away from the coast to traverse the northern width of the island, ascending the valley of the Grand Anse River, surrounded by the highlands.

It being around 11:40, we figured we were doing pretty well on time and decided to stop in at an attraction called the Lone Shieling, which we’d passed yesterday. There is a half mile loop trail that takes you on a brief tour of the valley floor, along a lovely babbling brook, passing a replica Scottish farm hut and through some beautiful old growth hardwood forest. 100 acres of untouched woodlands was bequeathed in the 1930s to become a park, by a local resident who’d migrated over from Scotland.

Plaque reads:

From the Lone Shieling of the misty island, mountains divide us, and the waste of seas – yet still the blood is strong, the heart is highland, and we in dreams behold the Hebrides.

The replica crofter’s hut was built per conditions of the estate. It was interesting to poke around inside and see how thick the walls were build and how the roof was constructed from reeds in the traditional manner. After a brief exploration of the compact building (see photo gallery at the end for more pics), we resolved to complete the small hiking loop, heading next over a narrow wooden bridge over the brook and deeper into the woods. The trail is well graded and easy to follow. Arriving next to the Grand Anse River was a highlight moment, a wide shallow current of crystal clear water burbling peacefully over rounded river stones. Touches of early fall color were reflected in a few of the overhanging trees.

Completing the rest of the short trail, we sipped some water and mounted back up. Up and over the pass and down again into the Aspy Fault canyon towards the northeast. I’d had my doubts about riding the same roads twice in a row, but we were having just as much fun today as we had yesterday, noticing and exploring different aspects of the Trail. The riding and scenery is still epic, no matter how many times you see it, I’d wager.

We scooted straight through North Cape, where Morrison’s restaurant was doing a decent business for lunch. That had been our planned lunch stop today as recommended on the NER route, before deciding to grab the sandwiches for a picnic. Maybe next time we’ll give them a try.

We took a new turn a bit further on, following the GPS north on Dingwall Road to explore the hamlet of that name, which occupies a wide lowland peninsula at the top of the island, where the Aspy Fault runs into the ocean.

A couple miles of narrow curvy asphalt brings you through the small fishing community and harbor, past a small museum and some lovely bogs, to a beautiful expansive view of the surrounding coastline of Aspy Bay. There was a bit more surf being generated today from the nearby weather patterns. The waves crashing on the rocks under greyer skies reminded us that we might be nearing the end of our fair-weather portion of the day.

Doubling back south for the mile or so, we again passed a local museum, which is home to the former St Paul Island South Point Lighthouse, which was moved here in 2011. St Paul Island lies some 12 miles north in the Gulf of St Lawrence and has quite an interesting history of shipwrecks. No time to stop in here today, but maybe next trip. The link has a fascinating synopsis of some of the island’s history and misfortunes.

Back on the Trail for a couple miles, we turned to follow White Point Road once more, enjoying the curves and stunning cliffside scenery from the opposite direction to yesterday.

At first, we missed the intersection where White Point Road continues north. Pulling a uey, we made the turn and followed the small road to where it dead-ends at yet another tiny remote fishing village. After taking in the layout of the narrow hillside roads and cruising once down the wharf area, we attempted to climb a gravel road to the small trailhead parking area up on the hill that the High Wheel barista had mentioned.

As he’d said, it was small and already full with just a few cars in it. Plus the gravel had deep ruts and uneven ground with large rocks jutting from it. Not the best choice for riding up on a darkside tire! Char dismounted so I could spin the bike around, and we coasted back down the hill, parking on the wharf by some camper vans and other vehicles that looked likely to be owned by other hikers.

After shedding our riding gear and trading boots for hiking sandals, we climbed back up the hill on foot, passing some outgoing hikers who confirmed we were headed the correct way to the trail. We found ourselves hiking up a rutted narrow entry trail so, first things first, I found a semi-discreet place to relieve myself in the bushes, there being no public restrooms anywhere within miles as far as we could tell. 🤪

We emerged onto the open headland, and what a sight hit us! A dramatic expanse of rocky ledge and seaside landscape strewn with grasses and lush low-lying shrubs creating an effect unlike anything I’ve seen outside of photos of the northern UK. With the green-frosted ground and dramatic coastline backdrops, it was magnificent scenery that kept unfolding in front of us as we marched onward.

We passed by a decked out overlanding 4×4 rig with a top-mounted tent and all sorts of fancy accoutrements and gadgetry. They were just sort of camped out right there in the middle of the trail, not a care if the world and this beautiful view theirs for the taking once all the other tourists like us were gone. Not sure if rough camping like this is allowed here or they just were counting on a lack of any enforcement due to the remote location. There was certainly no established camping area obvious here. Based on the rough trail we’d just walked up, their rig must be a pretty capable machine, and they must not mind getting it scratched up along the sides!

As we absorbed the terrain ahead of us, we could see all the way out to the point (we thought). But gradually we realized that it was quite a bit further out to the point than it looked at first. The further we walked, it seemed the more hills and dales still lay between us and the water! Quite an optical illusion in fact.

But we were here to hike, so we plodded steadily onward, picking whichever of the many rocky trails seemed most likely to get us in the desired general direction. And trails were EVERYWHERE, worn crisscrossing through the wildflowers and grasses by generations of locals and visitors alike.

 

 

When ascending some of the larger humps of land, we would lose sight of the water altogether. The gentle hill appeared to be a mountain summit from this angle, with only sky beyond. Then we’d emerge atop to see how far we still were from the crashing surf out at the end of the point. It reminded me of hiking some of the 4000 footers in the White Mountains, with long sight-lines above treeline creating “false” summits that make you think you’re almost there.

We could see other hikers scattered about, enjoying the trails, but spread far apart. The space here is just so immense that you could feel quite alone and uncrowded, even if there were hundreds more people present (though thankfully not!).

We finally reached the shoreline to discover dramatic cliffs and crevasses separated by tall spines of granite forming elongated mini sea-stacks . The surf would come rushing up the gaps to crash dramatically on the rock walls some couple dozen feet below us. The sea was working hard over centuries to wear away at this stubborn rocky spit of land, gradually digging channels through the rock. The furthest islets out at the point clearly related this story, as they were now separated from the mainland by such channels.

The boulders scattered amongst the vegetation and ledge rock itself was fascinating and seemed to consist of a variety of different mineral compositions –  some whiter, some reddish, and some with clearly formed lines of glittery mica or other crystalline minerals (I’m no geologist) running through them in beautiful patterns.

We passed a weathered graveyard at one point far out there, with a haphazard cable fence erected around it to keep unwary hiking feet of half-hidden grave markers. There was a hand-made sign commemorating  “The Unknown Sailor” alongside a more modern looking plaque. Apparently the cemetery was used for shipwreck victims as well as local people from the village who died in a diphtheria outbreak long ago.

We got as far out on the point as it was possible to go before the water intruded to separate the last few rocky outcrops. There were a few more people out here, closer together now by necessity of the narrow strip of rocky headland jutting out from the point, but we were easily able to find a secluded grassy hollow out of the wind, to enjoy our sandwiches from Aucoin Bakery. There were a ton of seabirds fishing and playing around in the waters around the rocky islets and we even spotted a few seals. A loud bell buoy that we’d been able to hear almost since the start of the hike clanged noisily at semi-regular intervals just out beyond the point, helping set the mood nicely.

After finishing up our little picnic in solitude, we began picking our way back over the rocks. We passed a couple folks seated on some rocks who had binoculars fixated on something in the waters of the small bay inside the point. We stopped nearby and followed their gaze and comments and finally spotted…. whales! We could see spouting as well as an occasional fluke fin rising out of the water. And what? Dolphins too, we think? Wow, very cool! Too far to get any decent photos with our phones, but we enjoyed the minutes we spent just standing and watching for more signs of the graceful marine creatures across the choppy water.

The people we were standing with were an older European couple (I forget from where) who turned out to be the ones camping in the 4×4 rig we had passed on our hike in. We chatted with them a bit and it turns out they’d been traveling all around North America in the rig while on holiday. Sounded like they were completely self-sufficient in the rig for a couple of days at a time at least, so they were enjoying a night or two here on the point, since it is on public lands and outside the provincial park.

We returned to the trailhead via a different route through the web of trails this time, closer to the bay so we could keep looking out for whale signs as we walked. We made it back to the harbor in about 40 minutes or so of easy walking, which seems so weird since you can basically see the entire path end-to-end from the point – everything is just so open and exposed.

A bit sweaty, but exhilarated from our marvelous hike, we geared back up at the bike. With a couple final photos back of the secluded little village harbor, we proceeded back along White Point Road and made the sharp turn to continue west and south down to New Haven. Here we stopped in at the volunteer fire station, which also serves as a public facility for restrooms, showers, and other needs for the outdoorsy tourist trade that flows through the region and park.

When we hit the eastern shoreline at New Haven, we could see the surf was much bigger on this side of the island. For now we were still dry, but the skies were looking bleaker by the mile and the crashing waves were beautiful to behold. Again – a completely different experience from yesterday’s ride, as we threaded our way back down through Neil’s Harbour and rejoined the Cabot Trail’s main route down into Ingonish.

Just north of town, Char snapped a photo on the go of beautiful St. Peter’s Church, with the French double-spire design that seems to be so common in French-Canadian towns. We also took time for a detour out on the Middle Head peninsula, on lovely one-way lanes through a beautiful birch grove and by a links-style golf course to the Keltic Lodge Resort and Spa. We rode once round the parking area to scope out the hiking trailhead area for next time, and then headed back to the mainland.

The resort grounds and building are beautiful and offer commanding views of South Bay and Ingonish Beach.

Back to the Trail continuing south, we finally hit some rain. It wasn’t downpours, but steady enough to wet the roadways and us, and to keep our speed down. The clouds had rolled over the water, mostly preventing any more sightseeing for the rest of the ride, so our focus became just making it safely back to home base. We could see the waves pounding relentlessly on the shorelines when there were breaks in the mist.

Chilled and soaked, we arrived back in Baddeck around 17:00 and made straight for the local grocery store, Victoria Farmers Co-op, before it closed. Not bothering to dodge raindrops at this point, we slogged inside with helmets on, and shucked our gear under protection of the covered foyer.

Our wet helmets were stuck in a shopping cart to wheel around with us as we shopped. We grabbed some basic items to get us through the next two evenings and mornings, plus some lunch fixings and snacks. It was tricky to find things packaged in small enough quantities so as to only get us buy for a couple of days, especially considering our different diets.

After cashing out, we reluctantly pulled our wet gear back on, packed up our loot and headed back to the AirBnB to settle in for the evening. Dinner was a porkchop/veggie burger plus some bagged salad mix, which we dug into at the kitchen table together while reviewing the day’s photos and checking weather and planning options for tomorrow’s ride.

Our second Cabot’s Trail run had been just as fun and interesting as the first. It felt like experiencing two sides of the same coin, plus the stops to see/do different things on each day. There is probably even more we could see the next time, but twice feels like a good number for one trip.

Photo gallery from today’s ride