Day loop from Baddeck NS
Wed Sep 6, 2023
(~233 miles)

The bed at the AirBnB didn’t exactly provide luxurious comfort, and the lack of proper window shades allowed light in pretty early, so I was up around 06:00 to make myself a proper hot breakfast with a mixture of supplies from our grocery store stop, the convenience store, and one of those big fat cinnamon rolls.  😋

Idalia was still working her mischief out to sea, throwing even more rain and wind at the province in scattered bands. The forecast was looking quite a bit different now than before we left home.

Neither of us was interested in another run of the Cabot Trail today, wanting to explore some new roads and places. It was going to be a wet ride regardless of the direction we took, so perhaps an agenda with the opportunity for a long stop would make sense. The weather over on the eastern coast near Louisbourg looked cooler but marginally drier than the Baddeck area today, so we decided to try out the NER Bras D’Or Ride, including a long planned stop at the Fortress of Louisbourg historic site.

We spent a lazy morning due to the morning drizzle and time spent deciding on our plan. Because we planned to dine in tonight, we had no reason to hurry at all, so it was nice to relax after the last few days of go-go-go. We made it out the door and were rolling by 09:00. The sky was gray and the streets wet from overnight drizzle and ongoing sprinkles and mist. Avoiding the main street, we exited town quickly right out to Highway 105 and turned northeast, re-tracing the part of our Cabot Trail runs.

Views were more restricted this morning, with distant horizons and shores hidden by the heavy mists, and I took it easier on the wet pavement. We once again followed the shoreline curves of lower St Anns Bay, inland through North River Bridge, and back to the shoreline, where today we turned right on route 312, breaking with our previous route. Skirting between steep mountainside and the bay, we came back south a couple miles, riding out on a thin sandspit that almost completely divides the bay from open water.

Here we found the Englishtown Ferry ramp, one of two ferries on the route today. The small ferryboat had just left our side of the channel, but the crossing was extremely short, perhaps a couple hundred yards at most! We were second in line behind one car and used the stop time to grab some extra photos and watch how the ferry navigated in the quick channel waters.

Within the minutes, the ferry was back on our side with vehicles quickly disembarking to pursue whatever business they had on this side of the bay. Then we sucked in our breath and headed down the wet concrete and up the wet steel ramp to take our place towards the front. Easy peasy! Since the crossing would only be a couple minutes, we didn’t bother dismounting, simply contorting in all directions to snap shots during the crossing.

The ferry crossing was the entire focus of this first little loop, so after a couple miles on 312, we found ourselves taking a sharp left back onto on Highway 105 eastbound, just a few miles from where we’d turned off. Ascending quickly into a soupy fog that enshrouded the hills, our visibility dropped precipitously, as did our speed. We pulled into a scenic overlook that was marked on our route, but there was nothing to see but cloud beyond the guardrail and it was actively sprinkling now. Guess no scenic vistas for us today! We moved on.

Crossing over the narrow Cape Dauphin peninsula took just a couple miles before we were descending via another tight fog-enclosed hairpin. We came out of the heavy mists and reached the waters edge, this time the big northern channel of Bras D’Or Lake, which we crossed via the high steel arch bridge. This is the primary water route between the lake (actually Bras D’Or is an estuary 🤓) and the open ocean. The stubby white McNeil Beach Lighthouse stood out brightly through the mist below on the opposite shoreline as we looked down from the bridge’s height.

Now on Boularderie Island, we cruised a couple more miles on 105 before turning right to follow the NER route onto some lovely local roads closer to the lake shore. Scenery was still limited by the fog, but it was a pretty little stretch including a huge wooden lobster trap by the roadside.

That dumped us out back to busy 105 in the town of Bras D’Or, where we pulled in to a Petro Canada station to fuel up. Just like that we were back into real civilization for a bit.

After a quick stop, we pulled out into traffic (traffic? there’s a change!) and crossed the much smaller St. Andrews Channel, which runs from another lobe of the lake north to the ocean, looking more like a river in terms of width. The next two miles of 105 were a bit of a slog, lined with commercial businesses, strip malls, and some traffic lights.

There was road construction at the big cloverleaf interchange with Highway 125, so we had to detour down for one exit south, then return back to 105 to continue our intended path. Another mile and we cruised into the urban streets of North Sydney, where the giant ferries to Newfoundland dominate the waterfront skyline. Our route led us right down by the docks, so we pulled into a small parking lot to snap off a couple shots of the impressive boat that was currently docked.

While gazing at the ferry, I pondered the experiences and thoughts of the famous “Newfy Five” – five hardy 2017 IBR riders who grasped a winning strategy and braved the odds, beelining all the way up here from the second US checkpoint in Texas, to grab the only possible scheduled ferry to Newfoundland. They grabbed high-point bonuses out on that island and all made it back to complete a monster third leg, securing their legend in Iron Butt Rally lore for all time. It must be quite the journey over to “the rock” and it’s a place I’d like to get to on a future trip for sure, preferably not on a rally clock!

We turned southwest to begin our circuit around Sydney Harbour, close to the water.  We enjoyed seeing a few sights and  streets of a new town. Traffic wasn’t that bad, though there definitely was a bit on the roads with us now, which was odd after the last several days of isolated rural rambling. The lateness of the calendar date struck us as we spotted several lobster shacks that were already closed for the season.

We passed a very nice waterfront park with what looks like several large pieces of military equipment including cannon and a small seaplane mounted on a tall pole. I’ll bet there are some picnic tables in there too!

Winding around the shore roads, we passed through Edwardsville and Westmount, with views of the bigger city of Sydney itself across the water. A huge cruise liner was docked over there, probably containing a whole other city’s worth of passengers.

After crossing the Sydney River, we picked up Highway 125 for a short bit, skirting east around the city to get back onto lesser traveled roads. We took Louisbourg Highway southeast for several miles to the Mira River, then rural Homes Road over to the open waters of Mira Bay. Here we turned right onto another coastal scenic drive called the Marconi Trail. Very quickly, the business of the city roads had been left behind and we found ourselves on a lonely coastline – there seems nowhere to really go on this side of the island unless you live or work as a fisherman out here (or are sightseeing through like us).

Prompted by the GPS, we pulled into a small deserted municipal park right by the “gut” where the Mira River dumped into the sea. There’s a big parking lot with a couple clean restrooms in a shack and a pretty nice beach just through some dunes. With the raw windy weather, there were no sunbathers today and we had the place to ourselves for a nice 20 minutes stop. For now, at least it wasn’t raining.

We used the facilities, had a snack, and stretched our legs, picking through some cool rocks on the beach, many of which were ringed with bands of mica (?) in cool patterns. This reminded us of the larger boulders and ledge rock with similar striping we’d seen yesterday at White Point.

Continuing on, we found increasingly remote and beautiful views south and east along the shore of Mira Bay, riding at sea level between the bay and saltwater marshes. We crossed a neat little steel truss bridge with a  surface of wooden planks. This was Cantalone Gut, where large Cantalone Lake connects via tiny outlet to the sea. And what’s that above? Blue sky?

All along this stretch, we noticed fallen trees by the roadsides, up on the wooded hillsides, and on the scattered private residence properties. Which in itself isn’t that unusual, but I soon noticed that they all seemed to be pushed over whole, and lying in the same orientation. The deadfall didn’t appear to be that old, so we guessed recent storm damage, vaguely remembering that a big hurricane had come through in the past couple of years. That must have been some gale to witness!

Then shortly down the road… “Eagle! A bald eagle!” Yup, I saw it and pulled right over. The large bird was perched on a narrow vegetated dune to the left of the road between a small inlet and the bay. There was no mistaking that bright white head and I carefully maneuvered the bike around in a couple ueys to position us better for a couple shots. Unfortunately, zooming in that far with a phone camera results in an impressionistic rendering only, but it was an eagle damnit! Of course our activity startled him/her enough to take flight, flapping towards the road and right over our heads, giving us no time to focus for a close-up!

Wow OK, so that was pretty cool! Feeling our moods a bit lightened after the rather dreary weather riding this morning. We continued on under more blue skies and puffy white clouds and shortly emerged at a T-intersection in the small community of Main-a-Dieu, the easternmost town in Nova Scotia.

The GPS pulled to the right, but we veered left to check out the picturesque little harbor protected by the small cape at the rim of Mira Bay that looks like a wave crashing on the map. Some local guys working on a house waved at us as we cruised slowly along the waterline, ogling the small fishing fleet and general peacefulness of this little spot at the end of the road.

Reaching a private road sign, we flipped a uey and trundled back, catching a shot of a cool lobster boat weathervane atop a little boathouse. We continued south through the intersection and ran along a particularly beautiful stretch of road paralleling Main-a-Dieu Beach park, with lovely dunes area pocked with evergreens, and a nice boardwalk trail with a few joggers and cyclists making their way. Bogs and wildflowers carpeted the landscape to our right hand side, with more fallen trees. Under the mostly clear blue sky now, it was just a magical moment of riding, a feeling hard to capture in photos as there was nothing really dramatic about the landscape – just sunny, lush, and full of solitude.

Several miles down the road, we found ourselves suddenly entering the remote but touristy village of Louisbourg, and pulled over to snap a few pics and read some introductory signage about the place.

Named after King Louis XIV, the Fortress of Louisbourg was founded in the early 1700s by the French, on the southwest headland protecting the harbor. Fortifications multiplied steadily until walls enveloped the entire fishing and farming community that had arisen at the head of this protected bay. A true fortified town, European style. Occupation of the port changed hands a few times between the British and French, with the Brits finally demolishing the fortifications after re-taking possession for the final time in 1758.  Parks Canada embarked on a huge archeological and restoration project in the 1960s, the result being a restored portion of the original fortifications as well as a full-size replica of part of the original town’s exact layout, building by building. The National Historic Site is enjoyed as a living museum, with docents dressed in historic garb and re-enacting life in the 18th century for the education of visitors.

The main street is neat, tidy, and low-key. There are restaurants, accommodations, shops and so forth but most of the buildings are single story and fairly modern-looking structures, build to support the tourism for the fortress. There’s a bit of a feel of frontier town, wide central avenue, being by itself way out here on the coast, not on the way to anywhere else.

We circled south around the bay, with some nice views over to the fortress and historic town, until reaching the main parking gate. Apparently, they receive so many visitors that the large parking lots are kept a good mile or two from the actual attractions, so as not to intrude on the natural and historic beauty out on the point. Shuttles are used to ferry people back and forth.

The attendant explained we were in luck, as there weren’t a lot of visitors yet today, so we could proceed on ahead up to park the bike in the onsite lots at the end of the road, right at the fort. Great!

Not only was this super-convenient, but that little stretch of road between the parking and the attraction was magnificent! As we rode out of the treelines onto the windswept headland jutting out into the sea, the thunderous crashing of the waves dominated our hearing and sight. That storm was still churning out to sea and the effects were stunning to watch. We pulled off into a gravel shoulder for a few minutes to watch the waves hit and it felt grand to be in Nova Scotia!

The driveway turned to well-graded gravel as we made our final approach, one absolutely huge structure with a central cupola dominating the scene (the King’s Bastion as we’d learn). Following the guidance of a couple more parking attendants, we parked the bike in the large gravel lot, then got off to shed our gear, stretch, and figure out a general plan.

It was almost one o’clock. While we were starting to feel peckish, we figured it would be better to check out the place first and then maybe hike out on the nearby point to eat our picnic lunch by the ocean. The weather was still looking bright and clear at the moment and we were eager to explore the place and stretch our legs.

The lot here was fairly well occupied, with a couple tour buses disembarking their loads of eager tourists. It felt strange to be among this many people again after our days of riding solitude, but the place is big enough to not feel cramped.

We followed the flow of people to the front admissions office, passing a few docents chatting in 18th century garb. The signs in the office had listings of a wide variety of guided tour options and scheduled demonstrations and exhibits. Because we had limited time to visit, we opted to just pay general admission and walk around the place on our own, using an online guidebook  provided by Parks Canada to read up on each numbered building and location.

We spent a bit over an hour wandering through this recreated town, feeling like we’d been drawn back in time. Once past the front gates, it was uncrowded and we were able to wander between the numbered locations pretty much unbothered and on our own, using the mobile interpretive app to enjoy learning about this once-critical settlement.

Some of the buildings had static displays of artifacts found during the excavation and rebuilding of the site. Some had costumed docents playing the roles of various military figures and townspeople, ready and eager to answer questions put to them about what they were doing. In the Engineer’s residence kitchen, we found ourselves in company with a French-speaking couple. The housekeeper/docent answered questions from all of us, switching effortlessly between English and French to explain her answers  to what was asked. It was quite impressive and you could tell these people really know their history and love their work!

The entire presentation of this place was impressive – both the original effort to build it and then the effort to uncover the history and artifacts and recreate the layout and buildings using the same techniques as the original craftsman. We wandered around for only just over an hour, but could easily have spent a few more if we been taking our time. However, we had miles to ride and the weather started looking a bit iffy again so we made our way back towards the front gate.

There were a lot more visitors at the park now, many of them standing around here, waiting for the little shuttle carts to take them on guided tours around the town. We caught a brief musket shooting demonstration by a fellow in solider uniform, then took a brief stroll through the King’s Bastion to check out the sheltered courtyard as well as a completely modern museum walkthrough hidden in the basement within the massive replica building that detailed the archeological story and efforts it took to build the fortress back up from bare land that was here in the 60’s.

Regardless of the weather now, we had to eat. Walking to the point didn’t look pleasant now, so we huddled against the gloomy skies at a picnic table in the King’s Garden (at present just a vacant field) by the parking lot to eat our sandwiches, trying to finish up before any more rain sprinkled down. A quick visit to the restrooms and a glance at the scale model map of the historic Louisbourg town in the McLennan Center and we were ready to go.

We geared back up and headed back down the gravel driveway, marveling once more at the ferocious wave action on the nearby rocky shoreline.

Circling back around the bay, we quickly zipped through town and turned right on a local road to head out to see Louisbourg Lighthouse, which is located on the northern headland across the mouth of the bay from the fortress. The sound of the waves hitting the craggy coast just outside the harbor mouth was thunderous as we picked our way out the gravel road to the end of the point, which is part of the same Parks Canada historic site that includes the fortress. We rolled into the lot past the lighthouse, which appears to be in rather poor repair at the moment, but only if seen close-up.

The fog had rolled in, so views of the fortress from here were sketchy at best, but the waves provided plenty of entertainment and awe. Water sprayed up off the cliff-like ledges with abandon as the different cycles of wave patterns rolled into the granite walls and crevices of the shoreline. We had to get a closer look!

After taking in the fierce beauty of the ocean at work for several minutes and struck by the beauty of the place and moment, I decided that this would be a good place to scatter the ashes of fellow long-distance rider Chris Rasmussen. I’d been carrying the small packet with me all the way through the Iron Butt Rally, where I’d missed a few opportunities to lay them to rest in beautiful surroundings. This certainly qualified and I wondered if Chris, a Charlotte NC resident, had ever made it this far north in his travels. I spent a few minutes remembering some good/funny moments talking with Chris, and now a part of him floats in these north Atlantic waters.

After a half hour stop, we got rolling once again, back out the gravel to Main Street. Louisbourg really is the end of the road at this point on the coast, with no  paved roads continuing south from here, so there is no choice but to head inland, northwest in the general direction from whence we’d come. We were pretty tired at this point from walking around Louisbourg in our motorcycle boots/pants and were content to simply let the ride unfold through the next several miles of rural countryside.

When we hit the Mira River again at Albert Bridge, this time we turned southwest along it’s southern bank some 10 miles or so to Marion Bridge. From here at route 327, there is the option of heading south again to continue along another scenic byway, the Fleur-de-lis Trail, back to the coast. For us, however, that will need to wait for the next trip. We turned right with the GPS crossing back over the Mira and beelining north back to Sydney.

We overlapped our earlier track on Highway 125 for a couple miles to cross the Sydney River, then struck off southwest, paralleling the river for a few miles to its source at Blackett’s Lake. We cut over to route 4 to continue southwest, soon reaching the easternmost finger of Bras D’Or, and crossed it via Chapel Road on a unique causeway that seemed built upon a natural spit lying across this narrow inlet of the lake (it’s the East Bay Sandbar I’ve learned). We were riding right next to the water on both sides of us and the views were gorgeous. And there were picnic tables of course! (Canada!)

Continuing down the peninsula, through another Mic’kmaq community, to the main expanse of the lake. We continued east at the end of the peninsula, picking up route 223 to cross the bridge to the Iona peninsula. Minutes later, we pulled up a hill into the parking lot for the Highland Village historic museum. They were just closing up the place for the day, so we simply parked for a few minutes, stretched our legs out and looked out over the increasingly fogged out waters of the lake.

Following 223, we circled south and west around the peninsula and over towards the small inlet called Little Narrows. The roadsides were mostly wooded and there wasn’t much to look at so we got in behind a couple of fast-moving locals who seemed to be booking it for the ferry. On the approach, we spotted a fox by the roadside, considering his options for crossing to the other side of the tarmac. Luckily he chose to let these fast-moving vehicles clear safely by before stepping out!

Our second and final ferry ride was similar to the first – easy and quick. This time, the water was very calm as we were not crossing a fast-moving tidal channel.

In short order we found ourselves back on Highway 105 heading northeast again, through Wagmatcook towards the barn in Baddeck. It started to sprinkle gently again as we approached town closed to 18:00, but we needed to stop again at the grocery to fetch a couple items we’d forgotten yesterday. Back warm and dry in the AirBnB for our last evening, dinner was a tofu stir-fry Char cooked up that was actually pretty fresh and tasty.