Moncton NB – Baddeck NS
Sun Sep 3, 2023
(~343 miles)

 

Our morning direction was still up in the air as we munched breakfast in the hotel dining area at the Rodd Moncton hotel. They offered a fairly typical spread of powdered eggs, sausage, bagels, cereal, etc. so at least it was a “hot” breakfast and we needn’t look to eat out somewhere.

Having reviewed the timing, it was logically possible to backtrack south to catch the morning low tide at Hopewell Rocks before continuing on towards Nova Scotia. We’re on vacation! What does it matter if we run a bit behind the rest of the day? Who knows when we’ll have a chance to get back up here and whether the tides/timing would be right then either? Char had gradually warmed to the idea, and after a good night’s sleep she agreed that it was too good a chance to pass up. OK we’re going!

We quickly packed up and were leaving the hotel parking lot a bit after eight o’clock. The roads were deserted this early on a Sunday, and we made very good time back down to the Hopewell Cape, where the skies were mostly cloudy. We arrived around 08:45, just past the official low tide. There were a couple of tour buses already here plus a bunch of private vehicles, but it was not crowded at all.

There was a manned admission gate to access the park, so it seems we had made the correct choice yesterday in not bothering to park outside and walk across the huge parking lots after hours. It is likely we would have been denied entry at this point anyway and been very grumpy in addition to tired and hungry.

We paid our entrance fee, electing to hike 15 minutes for the exercise rather than pay for the shuttle down to the rocks. We made a quick round through the large and modern interpretive center and used the restroom, but didn’t want to spend too much time looking through the great exhibits – we were here to see the rocks and were still on a schedule!

The park facilities are atop pretty high cliffs above the waters of the Bay of Fundy (at low tide at least!). There are a couple different entry points down to the beach areas and we chose to hike towards the famous Flowerpot Rocks, the famous ones you see in all the books and brochures. The lovely walking path was a tunnel through the evergreens – very wide, flat, and well-graded for the most part, with a few short staircase sections. The trail dumps you out at the paved shuttle turnaround and staging area. Nearby is the metal staircase scaffolding that provides access to the beach level dozens of feet below (when exposed).

I was very excited to finally be here to experience one of my childhood daydreams in person – I remember seeing these rocks in a book my dad had about the world’s natural wonders (precursor to the Inter-webs) as well as the earth science books I’d studied throughout my school years. I have always been fascinated with the geographic locations that are the “most” extreme of anything… largest tides in the world in this case.

Those schoolbook photos couldn’t hold a candle tor seeing these rocks for the first time, and then getting to descend the stairs to traverse the exposed seafloor for myself. Then, hiking around the corner and thus through the wardrobe, so to speak, (beyond the book photos) to see even more beautiful and amazing natural sculptures formed by the ocean’s power.

I’ve heard stories about this site during peak season when it’s practically wall-to-wall tourists down here on the sand. We felt lucky to see it as we did, with only a few dozen people scattered over the vast breadth of ocean floor that we picked our way across. Plenty of elbow room.

There’d been some rain overnight so it was still mostly cloudy, but the sun was trying hard. We were really glad we’d decided to turn back to experience the Hopewell Cape today!

Temperatures were rising as the sun burned through, and more tourists were arriving to catch the backside of low tide. We clanged our way back up the stairs, past muddy handprint art left by other visitors. There’s a nice washing station at the top near the shuttle stop, where we rinsed the cement-like sand-mud off our boots and pant cuffs before trudging steadily back up the trail to the visitor center.

After a few minutes to catch our breath, swig some water, and use the restrooms, we headed back to the bike around 10:15 to continue our trek. Our entire visit had been about 1.5h and well worth it, but nowhere near long enough. I hope to have more time to spend perusing the interpretive displays and other areas of the park on a future visit.

I was feeling my ragweed allergy symptoms since we’d been coming north towards autumn. Itchy eyes and nasal congestion do a not a good vacation make. We ate up some time back in Moncton finding a pharmacy so I could get some drugs to relieve the symptoms. I couldn’t find the Allegra-D that usually works so well, and in the states I often have to show ID to buy it over the counter due to a controlled ingredient. I wasn’t sure if I could even get it in Canada.

The lone pharmacist was busy helping the woman in front of me for over 10 minutes (!) as I stood waiting, and no other help appeared. I finally decided it couldn’t wait any longer and settled for the “regular” kind of pills – better than nothing. After popping a couple tablets back at the bike, we made our way through the traffic lights surrounding the mall area to the big rotary and out Veterans Highway, past the airport to pick up Highway 2. We were now back on track to follow the NER Moncton to Baddeck Ride route.

We began our traverse of the Isthmus of Chignecto, which is the (relatively) narrow band of land that joins mainland New Brunswick to the peninsular province of Nova Scotia. This was fast divided four-lane, so we flew quickly towards the border. After Sackville comes the narrowest part of the isthmus. Cumberland Basin (very upper reaches of the Bay of Fundy) is visible to the right and the winds were gusting sideways, requiring both hands and close attention when passing vehicles. Similar to the consolidated transportation routing you often see through mountainous areas, the road and rail systems get squeezed together on the isthmus so we got to pace a long freight train for a couple miles along here.

Shortly before noon, we crossed into Nova Scotia and pulled off our exit to get a few photos at the Information Center near Fort Lawrence. This particular area, near the line dividing French and British-claimed territories, is near the former settlement of Beaubassin, one of the earliest major Acadian communities. Being of Acadian ancestry, I found the wide open marshy coastland areas of personal interest, and had hopes that this trip would also include some moments of tangible learning and connection to my roots.

I’m halfway through a book titled A Great and Noble Scheme, an interesting history about the Acadians eking out their livings as farmers in a harsh and difficult landscape. They were quite an inventive and hardy people, who tried to get on with their daily lives while attempting to maintain political neutrality in a time of fierce imperialism and world strife. Toeing the line between French and British loyalties (amongst other reasons) eventually resulted in organized expulsion from their homeland. A great deal of the book’s first chapters seem to center around this area.

We didn’t need anything else at the visitor center except to make up some time, so we pressed on without delay, leaving behind the big highway (which becomes 104 here) and taking smaller NS 2 for a couple miles into the bustling town of Amherst. We passed through downtown, where we picked up NS route 6 to jibe left out towards the northern coast of the province. We were now following along the Sunrise Trail scenic drive, which runs some 200 miles through small communities and farmlands along the waters of the Northumberland Strait, all the way over to the Strait of Canso causeway leading to Cape Breton Island.

We had our first views of those more northern waters in Port Philip, but bypassed exploring any of the small peninsulas due to time constraints, sticking to route 6 until reaching the touristy village of Tatamagouche. We fueled up at a Shell station, then immediately hit a severe traffic backup that seemed caused by some road construction up ahead. Seeing as it was already 13:00, we weren’t moving at all, and we were feeling peckish, we decided to check out a waypoint on the NER route we’re following. Maybe the traffic would lighten a bit during our stop?

The Train Station Inn is a historic railroad waystation turned museum, gift shop, restaurant, and unique lodging opportunity. Besides a trackside café and patio for drinking cocktails and light refreshments with live music, the main dining is inside a real dining car that’s connected to several other historic railcars on the old tracks next to the inn. Many of the other cabooses and railway cars have been converted into overnight accommodations that you can stay in, B&B style.

After perusing the lunch menu displayed in a wooden kiosk by the tracks, we decided what the hell and mounted the steps to enter the dining car. The quarters were snug, but the railcar foyer was beautifully authentic, with a hammered tin ceiling and lots of nice woodwork. The dining area itself was a bit more updated, with ceiling fans and modern tables and chairs. We were seen immediately to an available table overlooking the busy rail trail bike path that runs along the tracks through town.

The food was overpriced but fine, with Char ordering a plate of caprese on French bread while I opted for a clubhouse wrap, which was oddly accompanied by some very sad-looking tortilla chips. Still, it was nice to be off the road and out of the sun for a bit to enjoy this unique atmosphere and dining experience.

After lunch, we strolled around the old station to poke around and get some photos.

We couldn’t afford to lollygag all day, however, and had the motorcycle rolling again just an hour after our arrival. At least, we got back up the lane to the intersection with Route 6, where traffic was still solidly jammed in our direction. From our new angle waiting at the corner, it looked like the backup was a result of some construction-related traffic lights having been left in operation at a major Y-intersection where NS 311 splits off from 6. The lights were very quick and traffic was backed up in all three directions so only a few cars were getting through at a time. It was just nuts and there was no breakdown lane or any other room to squeeze past things on the bike. I butted my way out into the line of cars and it ended up taking us about 12 minutes to go the next 800 feet or so to get through the light. Finally!

The NER route veers inland on 311 here rather than hugging the coast on 6, probably to save on overall ride time for the day. The next 25 miles or so were fairly unremarkable riding through a mix of woodlands, farms, and residential properties lining the two laner. The river views as we emerged back near the coast at Pictou were a welcome sight. Next time, I would probably opt to continue on the more coastal option if time allows.

New Glasgow was another regional hub town with a well-kept main street with many two-story stone block buildings and several murals.

We picked up NS 4 in town and followed it east for the next several miles until the road crosses Highway 104 near Merogomish Harbour. Then we picked up NS 245 to continue our coastal tour tracing the triangular fin of Cape George. We pulled over to a lookout just before the village of Arisaig, to get some shots of the small lighthouse on the point that we were about to visit.

Down the hill, we turned left down the side road and followed it to the small parking area in front of the Arisaig Lobster Interpretive Marine Life Center. Wow, that a big name for such a small unassuming shack! The door was propped open so we decided to check it out first before walking next door for some ice cream at the lighthouse.

We were warmly welcomed by two local women, who volunteer here as docents. True to what we’ve been told, our first encounter with Nova Scotian people was extremely positive. These ladies were so friendly and easy to chat with, asking us where we’d come from and offering to show us the rare-colored lobsters currently on display in one of the tanks – 2 blues and 1 speckled! We talked about our scuba diving experience and lobsters in general, and they offered up some interesting tidbits about year-round life up here on the Northumberland Strait. Fall is apparently quite stunning, though the weather is unpredictable and generally rainy. 🙁

Next up – ice cream! Or not, actually. ☹

We walked next door to the small replica Arisaig Lighthouse, which actually contains a small ice cream stand. Unfortunately, they only accept Canadian cash and I had forgotten to stop at an ATM yet to withdraw some loonies. I was a sad panda.

Continuing on, the coastline of Cape George along route 256 just got more and more beautiful!

After 10 miles we reached the tip of the cape and turned left on Lighthouse Road, which was well-graded gravel, for a short jaunt out to see another beautiful aid to maritime navigation. There’s a a nice park area atop the bluffs of the point, with picnic tables (Canada!) and the beautiful Cape George Point Lighthouse.

Back out to hit the asphalt, we continued around the edge of the cape next to Saint George’s Bay, enjoying more lovely vistas of the land meeting sea by Ballantynes Cove.

After running down the west side of the bay and Antigonish Harbor, we turned east before hitting the town of Antigonish itself, to pick up NS 4 again. This route parallels (and sometimes joins) the larger Highway 104, which shortly notches down in size to a two-laner and was a great bit of riding. We actually got to lean the bike in on the nice curves through here – definitely the funnest riding stretch of this day of scenic riding.

Route 4 brought us all the way to the Strait of Canso, with it’s impressive cliffs towering over a docked freighter on the east side. We crossed the causeway to Cape Breton Island, feeling like we’d entered a new phase of our vacation journey. We’d be spending the next few days on this island now, which makes up the northeastern quarter of Nova Scotia and contains the most striking terrain features and remote wilderness areas of the province.

In Port Hastings, we turned north on Highway 105 to head up-island. This highway has been named after inventor Alexander Graham Bell and wife Mabel, who lived in the area, and turned out to be a pretty fast road through a lot of woods with rolling hillscapes. There is not much in the way of human population through the middle of the island here until reaching the Mi’kmaq community of Whycocomaugh at the far southern reaches of Bras D’Or Lake, the huge body of water that encompasses a large area of the island’s interior.

The Farmer’s Daughter is a large touristy wayside establishment in Whycocomaugh, offering fuel, a bakery, general goods market, ice cream, and fast food options. The place was hopping, but we pulled in to stretch our legs and use the restroom. I finally took some Canadian cash out of the ATM there as well to have it on-hand.

We didn’t dally long. We could smell the barn at this point and just wanted to get to our accommodations in the town of Baddeck, settle in, and find some dinner. Route 105 follows the lake shore closely from this point, so we enjoyed the great evening water views of Bras D’Or as we zipped further north, stopping only once more to fuel up in Wagmatcook. It was nearing 19:00 and I wasn’t sure if our fuel options were limited up ahead. I wanted to end the day on a full tank, in case we decided to get an early start on tomorrow’s adventures.

Finally, we passed a ‘Welcome to Baddeck’ sign and picked our way tiredly through town to find our AirBnB, which was conveniently located close to the center, just uphill from the main boulevard. We felt pretty whupped. Twilight fell while we figured out where to park and began lugging our stuff up to our little studio suite on the second floor of the large old house. More about our accommodations in the next installment, but suffice to say we were pleased with the arrangement upon first impression. We cleaned ourselves up and after reviewing the slim dining options for this late in the evening in a small Nova Scotia town, we headed down to the waterfront for a meal and a beer at the Freight Shed.

It was dark by the time we arrived at the restaurant, which is right on the main wharf jutting out into the lake. The air had a bit of a chill, but we didn’t mind sitting outside to avoid the crowded and noisy interior. I was reminded again, to my dismay, that similar to steak you also cannot get a hamburger made rare or even medium-rare in Canada!  Damn, what is wrong with this country!? 🤨 I’d been looking forward to a nice burger but I don’t see the point if they’re going to burn perfectly good beef! 😒 So I settled for a Rueben sandwich and a cup of chowder, which were actually both very good. Char had a tofu salad which she also commended.

The prices felt high, just like everywhere post-COVID, but the amounts listed in the weaker Canadian dollar made it seem even worse! 😀 After the second pricey dinner in a row, plus lunches, our thrifty Yankee sensibilities were on high alert. We determined to do some grocery shopping at first opportunity and make the most of our AirBnB’s kitchenette over the coming days.

After a tasty meal, we did a quick stroll up and down quiet Chebucto Street (which is NS 205 and the main street in town) just to get our bearings. It surely seemed a ghost town past 22:00! We stopped in at the one late-night convenience store to pick up a few snacks and staple groceries like milk for morning coffee. Then we walked back up the hill to settle in for the evening and firm up our plans for tomorrow.

Full photo gallery from today’s ride