Well, after the Baker's Brook Falls hike and the long day yesterday, I woke up sore but happy. We made our breakfast, said goodbye to Ranger Harold and packed up the tent and hit the road.
We headed north on the Viking Trail towards St Anthony, (which the locals call "S'nanty") and L'anse aux Meadows. The clouds drifted on a high ceiling, giving us views of the mountains and the coastline, with occasional glimpses of bright sunshine. We drove through tiny towns like Cow Head, Savage Cove and Plum Point. Some of the communities were very, very small, and along the long western shore, the stores were few and far between. Most had gas, all kinds of convenience and food supplies, as well as hardware, fishing gear, building and plumbing supplies and even yarn and books. There are hand made sweaters, mittens, socks and tourist stuff like shirts, postcards and native jams and jellies. Locals hang out and drink coffee, talk about the weather and many asked us where we were from. I guess it was obvious that we were from out of town!
Nicole and our Pack Vehicle, taking a break near Port aux Choix
We drove, Abigail slept, and saw the trees get shorter and shorter. Even the Long Range Mountains faded from view and the inland landscape looked flat in places. It looked like the road was actually built with stone mined from different areas near the highway, as there were several pits and open areas where stone and rocky material was removed. Many streams and small rivers crossed the highway, and small ponds and lakes were surrounded by green tuckermore and boggy brush. It felt, well, 'northern', if that is any description. I don't know how to really describe what driving through this landscape was like, and the pictures just don't do it justice, either. It was a vast, open, wild feeling that was good. It was fresh, and clean and sweet and a deep earth energy that was unique to anything I have ever felt in the wilderness before.
Wild Strawberries, Raspberries
and Skunkberries
Ben sighted a moose at one point, and we pulled off the highway to take a look. It was a small male, and by the time I changed batteries in my camera, I missed the shot, but I took a walk around anyway, just to stretch our legs a bit after the long drive.
Our Camp at Pistolet Bay Provincial Park, Newfoundland
I didn't really mention this before, but heading north is like going back in time, from a seasonal point of view. It was late August, and I looked down at my feet and saw the last thing I ever expected to see: Wild Strawberries. Ripe, too! I couldn't believe it! At Hawk Circle, we have ripe wild strawberries in early June to the first week of July, at the latest. But there, in the far northern tip of Newfoundland, was mature, sweet, red berries! I saw another bush of berries that the locals called 'Skunkberries' but they looked like a type of current or gooseberry, so maybe they are in the same family. I also saw many raspberries, too. However, we didn't see cloudberries, which was one berry I just was dying to see in it's natural habitat, and taste it. Most people on the Rock call this berry 'Bakeapple' for reasons I don't quite know, but we had a taste of cloudberry cheesecake at the Jigg's Dinner in Rocky Harbor and that was out of this world, so I was looking for them everywhere!
Cooking French Fries!
Venison Hot Dogs over the Campfire!
We drove on an on, further and further, along the one road to the northern tip of Newfoundland. By mid-afternoon, we reached the Pistolet Bay Provincial Park, and found a campsite in a light drizzle. We set up our tents, then our tarps, and we bundled up because it was COLD! There was fog and a light breeze so we got a fire going and cooked some venison hot dogs I had brought from home, and we made french fries, too. We made about ten small batches, all in all, and it really hit the spot.
These didn't last long!
Ben and Abigail said they saw a large rabbit, possibly an arctic hare, hopping around one of the near by campsites. We saw squirrels, who looked hungry and accustomed to raiding campsites for food, so we packed everything up before heading over to St Anthony to see what was happening in the town. It was too late to go to L'anse aux Meadows, because we wanted to have a full day over there to enjoy it and take our time...
Anyone want hot chocolate???
Roadside Gardens!
Mittens!
Another thing that was totally unique and new to us while we were driving around up there was the Roadside Gardens. In the seeming middle of nowhere, (and I mean literally miles from the nearest house or anything) on the side of the roads, were plots of potatoes, onions, chard, collards, beets and other vegetables. Most had makeshift fences all around them, to keep out the moose and caribou, I guess, and they had flags of tattered and worn cloth or other markers tied to sticks or poles to help their owners find them easily while driving.
St Anthony's Bight
This fascinated Nicole, who, as I said before, loved any type of gardening and growing of plants. We stopped and looked at one up close and took a few pictures. It seemed crazy to plant a garden so far from your home, where you could look after it and tend and care for it, but there they were, in the wilderness, on the side of the highway.
Ben goes in the Arctic water
Piles of firewood were stacked, too, in a similar way, left out to season on flat areas off the road, with poles and split wood, some stacked neatly and others just piled in heaps or left as whole logs fresh off the truck. Again, with all of the campers driving by, you would think handfuls of logs would disappear for campfire wood, but we saw no evidence of this anywhere on our trip.
Bakeapples or Cloudberries!
A small berry of sweet Arctic lightness!
Local people explained it to us like this: All of the communities were so tightly bound together for their livelihoods and culture, that it was impossible to steal anything from anyone without being caught almost instantly. Everyone would know. So their culture was to leave everything that wasn't yours alone, and respect it, and others will do the same for your things. Once roads began connecting these communities together, it was too late to change and so most people are still trusting and crime is virtually non-existent. I could feel this deep sense of respect for both the earth and community and each other permeating throughout the culture while we were there. I am sure there are exceptions and other stories, and I am not being naive in my assessment. I am sure that newcomers have brought some of their ways into the culture, but overall, you will have to go there to really 'get it' and see what I mean.
I think this is a seal jawbone
Anyway, right before we got to the town, we saw a small sign marked 'St Anthony's Bight' and we turned and followed it, because I remembered reading about it in my pre trip research as a place to observe icebergs and wildlife. We collectively gasped when we came over a slight rise to catch a view of the bay, filled with massive chunks of ice.
We drove to the trail head, then headed down to the bay to get as close as we could. All banter and chit chat between us as traveling comrades vanished, and we were overwhelmed with a sense of awe and power. The icebergs had broken off the glaciers of Greenland and traveled over a year to get to the Newfoundland waters, and a strong wind had pushed them into the small coves and bays, to run aground and slowly melt and break apart.
I had told everyone that the ice was made originally from snows that had fallen in Greenland over 10,000 years ago, and been compressed into ice. This means it was pure, and from clouds that had crossed North America during it's 'Mega Fauna' period, with huge dire wolves, cave bears and wooly mammoths. It was thousands of years before the industrial revolution, before pollution. Seriously ancient, primordial water.
I think that was what made being in their presence so powerful, for me at least. I can't speak for my companions. I took a short video on my camera and tried to explain it, but I don't know if it really comes through.
Japhy, Abigail and Ben exploring the cove
We explored the shore, picking our way along to get closer to some big rocks and big ice. At one point, Ben took his shoes off and went iceberg surfing. He managed to find a large piece of ice that we brought back to the car to use to keep our food cold, and to slip smaller pieces into our water bottles. That ice was so sweet, well, it was better than any water I have ever drank...
When we got to the rocks and climbed up to the top, the ground was covered with a thick layer of plants that grew almost like moss, and I saw a few dark, almost black berries that I recognized as Crowberries. And then I saw the Cloudberries! They grew in tiny patches, or on their own, with lots of space all around, in that open place. They are red when they are first formed, then slowly they turn orange/peach as they ripen. One taste of the ripe berries is instantly tart and intense, then as you wait the flavor becomes, well, light, and airy, really, like a cloud or a beam of light through the clouds. That's the only way I can really describe it, and the rest of our group seemed to think it was pretty accurate, too. It was so great to find them there on the headlands, and see those massive bergs and hear the gulls. We didn't want to leave.
10,000 year old ice
Eventually we headed into town and looked for a small restaurant but nothing really appealed to us so we went to a Jungle Jim's (also located as part of a hotel) and tried to get a wifi signal to be able to check our email, and we ended up going to Tim Horton's and getting hot chocolate and donuts before heading back to camp. Even in the dark, in the middle of town, you could hear the icebergs cracking and grinding against each other, calving off chunks into the bay as they slowly melted. It was weird and cool and crazy all at the same time.
Abigail and Japhy enjoy a sunny, windy day at the Tablelands!
Our next adventure in Newfoundland was one of the longest, too. Not in hours but in activity and movement. We got up early and ate, then headed out to the Tablelands, a rocky, barren area that is the real reason that Gros Morne was chosen and designated as an UNESCO World Heritage Site, with surface rocks from the earth's mantle, that closely resemble the geology of Mars. NASA is even doing research there for their eventual trip to the Red Planet.
Peridotite, from the Earth's Mantle
The Amazing, Delicious, 'Trista Bars'
Nicole is a serious geology student and enthusiast, and she loves rocks almost as much as mushrooms and farming! She was in heaven, and we all were amazed by the ways the landscape looked like the desert Southwest. It was awesome! We had a wonderful Ranger to showed us all kinds of things about the rocks, calcium deposits, all kinds of ways plants and trees were adapting to the harsh winds, poor soils and difficult terrain. He was great, funny and had a wonderful presentation that was warm and friendly.
The Tablelands, Gros Morne National Park, Western Newfoundland, Canada
We walked up the end of the trail, and seriously contemplated climbing the ridge to the top and traveling along the crest to descend into the basin where the waterfalls were flowing, but the wind was intense and we had other places to go.
The incredibly tough and resourceful pitcher plant
Still, it was hard to go to Trout Brook and pull Ben and Abigail from this adventure. I still feel guilty about it! Seriously! (Ben, if you are reading this, I promise we will make that hike/climb next summer!)
We snacked on sandwiches, fruit, some chips, and the awesome chocolate chip, coconut, and walnut bars that Trista made for us for our trip. We called these 'Trista Bars' and one of them, heck, even half of one, would keep you from feeling hungry for a few hours. And they really tasted great. Very homey and warm and we loved them during our long drives and hikes.
We traveled to the end of the road, and saw another fishing community and valleys wide and vast that just begged to be explored and experienced...
Serpentine? Nicole probably knows
what it is for sure!
We ended up stopping at the Park's Visitors Center in Woody Point. It is fantastic. It is modern, and beautiful, and the art! The Art! There are Artist's in Residence whose work covered the walls, and the children's art of the park wildlife was so sweet and insightful that it touched us! Well, I am pretty sure that it did for me and Nicole, but I can't say for sure for the rest of our group.
The Tablelands Boardwalk Trail
The large relief map of Gros Morne was especially insightful. We didn't realize how tall Berry Hill was, or how massive Gros Morne Mountain was either, or how deep the fjiords were in Western Brook Pond. We talked to some of the rangers about fishing, and hiking the Long Range Traverse, which we were still debating hiking at some point on our trip.
Peas Pudding, Salt Beef (Corned Beef),
Potatoes, Beets, Carrots, Turnips, Stuffing,
Blueberry Cake Pudding, Pickled Peppers
and lots of Gravies!
After we left the Visitor's Center, we drove back through the forests and waterfalls and mountains and meadows, seeing moose again and rivers that looked like they were loaded with fish. We stopped at the Gros Morne Mountain trailhead, and hiked up to the first lookout, over a rushing stream. We saw moose antler rubs, on huge saplings. We found bunchberries everywhere, and birch trees, spruces, balsam firs and lots of birch and alders.
Abigail enjoys the Jigg's Dinner
It was starting to get late, so we headed down to explore Rocky Harbor, and get some money exchanged at the bank and do some shopping. Louise Decker had shown us a flyer for a community fundraiser at a local church called a "Jigg's Dinner", and we wanted to check it out.
We went through a couple of stores and craft shops, and I got some Cloudberry Jelly and Partridge Berry preserves, too, as well as some postcards to send home. There were sweaters, and mittens and socks, all hand made, and there were a lot of polar fleece jackets and rain gear items that looked like tourist travelers would grab them up when it got cold and foggy outside in all seasons. Luckily, it was sunny and warm, so we were all set.
Ben chows down!
We headed up to the church, where we saw the signs and the cars! It was filling up fast, so we went inside and got tickets! Then we sat down, and saw that Harold Snow, our park ranger friend, was there, with his wife, and lots of other local folks. Ben sat next to an older woman whose accent was so strong I doubt he understood a quarter of what she was saying! But she was so kind and sweet and they had a good time!
I sat next to a guy from Nova Scotia who told me stories of the "black flies in Labrador that were so intense that they covered your arm if you rolled down your window to adjust your mirror... your arm would look black and then when you wiped them off, it would be bloody!"
Yeah, really makes me want to go there... (Maybe after it gets cold?)
When they called my number, we got to go up as a group for plates of home made food that was hearty and flavorful, with all kinds of vegetables, meats, 'puddings' and sauces that really hit the spot after a long day of hiking and driving. Local preserves, pickles, gravies, everything... We were all so glad we went! I was so full I didn't even go up for desert. The hardest thing was that it was difficult to hear in the large room with so many people having good conversations. I wanted to hear everything about what these people were saying, and share some time with them. It was a great feeling.
The boardwalk trail to Baker's Brook Falls
Ranger Harold heard that Nicole and Abigail wanted to go up to Baker's Brook Falls, so he invited us to hike out there with him, to work off the meal. We met in the parking lot and started off down the trail. It was a long series of wooden boardwalks, passing over bogs and wetlands, to protect the roots of the trees and plants. Ranger Harold is tall and has a stride like an elk, moving swiftly and easily in a subtle, kilometer eating gait that left us in the dust a few times. We passed through areas where the moose had been eating and scraping their antlers, and I was grateful for the momentary breaks where Harold told us stories about the trees and different park issues to catch my breath for the next section of trail.
The clearings in the northern forests
The trail passed through open areas and was fairly level, across a lightly sloping plain that led us towards the river. The sunlight was soft and hazy in the evening light, and I stopped for a few pictures every chance I got. When we got to the river, we took pictures at some of the overlooks, and the water was high and loud. It was tannic, like most of the waters of Newfoundland, with that deep brown tea color that looked almost black in the fading light.
It is hard to describe what it feels like to actually be standing in this place, with air fresh and moist...
Ranger Harold Snow, Nicole, Abigail, me and Ben
at Baker's Brook Falls
Harold headed us back as quickly as we came, knowing we had many kilometers still to go on our return trip. As we moved down through the meadows, the clearings of fallen trees, we saw the clear, huge outline of a bull moose, it's antlers jutting upwards against the western sky. It's shoulders were huge, and it looked ten feet tall. Everyone was hushed as it moved in our direction, feeding and fearless of our presence. It was our first close encounter with a moose, and we tried to take pictures but it was too dark to capture the dark haired beast. We moved on, letting him feed in peace, and saw another, and then another, each in their own clearing, crashing along, smashing small branches with their large hooves and strong legs.
The walk back seemed longer in the deepening gloom, but inside, our hearts were full of an amazing day of great food, great learnings, powerful encounters with stone and animals and waters of this place. It felt really, really good to head back to camp and crawl into my sleeping bag and slip into a deep, restful sleep.
Okay, so, in Part lll of our Expedition blog, I have to explain a few things. First of all, I have to say that our trip was not just a sight seeing adventure. We were seeking something else, something deeper and powerful, a connection to the land where huge beasts roam, through thick, primordial green forests and crystal waters and ancient ice giants.
We wanted to be affected by these places, and feel something, and see if something deep and ancient would awaken inside of us.
At least, that was the feeling I had when we would all be packed in our car. Everyone would be quiet and looking outside the windows, absorbing everything. We would stop someplace amazing and fall out of the car and just gaze in every direction, each in our own way soaking it all in...
The rocks at Broom Point
Japhy, Ben, Abigail and myself are all Waldorf School graduates. Japhy had attended the Aurora Waldorf School in East Aurora, NY (near Buffalo), Ben and Abigail had attended the Waldorf School of Baltimore, and I attended the Sacramento Waldorf School in California and Hawthorne Valley Waldorf School in the Hudson Valley of NY. So that shared background helped provide fun stories, jokes and we had a lot of creativity in our adventures.
And Nicole, well, she is pretty creative and expressive too. In the past summer, she helped start a Farm/Garden Camp in the city of Atlanta, which is incredible, and has been involved in a lot of different initiatives and interests like mushrooms, plants, geology and gardening. We had some interesting conversations!
The ropes are hung to dry in the barn
Hand carved native
spruce net floats!
Louise gifts us with Newfoundland Tartan
There is something about a road trip that magnifies or compresses time. On this trip, we never knew what was around the corner, or down the road, or where we were going next except in the most general sense, and each day, each hour seemed to bring us to a wonderful new world.
On this day, our first in Gros Morne, we woke to rain. Our tent was a little leaky but we were doing well. One thing that we discovered was the Berryhill Campground Kitchen Shelter. It was amazing! There are two big sinks with hot and cold water, and a large modern lean to with lights and two woodstoves, where we could warm up, dry out our clothes, even cook on the top of the stove. Some of the park rangers dropped off some wood for us, as we made breakfast of bagels, toast, eggs and cereal. It was awesome! We spent some time chatting with the rangers, who were happy to talk seeing as most of the rest of the campers had cleared out due to the rain.
On the wall of the lean to was a calendar with the Gros Morne Park Interpretive Programs schedule, and their descriptions looked good, so we headed up the coast to Broom Point to see the cultural and historical interpretive presentation about fishing and the history of the coastal towns in the park.
Louise's fish cutting knife,
simple but highly effective!
This peg board helped her
keep track of the lobster traps
Louise Decker was just a young woman when she started fishing, and we learned all about how she built her first dory with her new husband and took to the seas to catch cod and lobster. We learned about the newly built roads that connected these small communities by land for the first time in over three hundred years. Her accent took a bit to get used to, but it was wonderful. Her stories were full of emotion, with lots of humor, toughness, and grief from the loss of the fishery crash and friends lost at sea.
We learned about lobsters, about how she cut and cleaned the fish, preparing it for salting and drying. It was wonderful and she made small nets expertly and gave them to people in the audience. She had small, handmade tools for just about every job, all hand crafted from native woods, and things found or salvaged from other items, demonstrating creativity and practicality.
Louise Decker's
Fishcakes and Cod Nuggets!
Because she was one of the first women to fish, she had to make her own tools to fit her smaller hands and size, but you can tell that she pulled her own weight every day. Each item was well worn, with years of use. They reminded me of certain knives I have used for years at Hawk Circle, or hatchets, with handles worn smooth from strong hands, weather, and long hours of carving or chopping...
After her stories, demonstrations, questions and answer period and showing us the boats, nets, tools and buildings, she invited us inside for tea, molasses cookies, home made cod cakes and cod nuggets that she had prepared and cooked for us earlier in the wood fired cookstove. Her stories never stopped and she never stood still for a moment, passing out food and strips of cloth Newfoundland Tartan for us to take home.
Lobster Cove Lighthouse
All of this was totally unexpected and greatly appreciated, and we had many warm conversations and good feelings with Louise as well as the other park visitors. Then the sun came out and turned the water from a gray black to a brilliant blue, and we could even begin to see the shapes of the massive Long Range Mountains, (northern most tip of the Appalachian Mountains) behind the clouds. We sat in the warmth, enjoying the fresh sea air, the scent of balsam fir and salt and took it all in.
Eventually we headed back, to explore other parts of the park. It wasn't long before we saw our first group of moose in the daylight! They were massive and strong, crushing small trees with their feet and their long legs easily stepping over logs and seedlings as they browsed along the lush plants near the roadway. We watched them for a long time, taking pictures and talking in low whispers about everything we were seeing.
When the moose had gone into the deeper brush, we went further, stopping just before the campsite to check out the Lighthouse at Lobster Cove. We hung out there for a while, enjoying the calls of a raven who sat upon the tower and croaked to us throughout the late afternoon. We had a great view of Rocky Harbor, whose local pronunciation was something like "Roque 'arbor", with the H being silent and the whole name spoken as one word. It never felt natural for me to say it like that, so I am glad there wasn't a test! Rocky Harbor is a small town that had craft stores, food, supplies and a few restaurants, so we drove through it and then headed back to the camp to make dinner.
Looking South from the Lighthouse
If I didn't say our dinner of Burritos with Black Beans and Pinto Beans, cheese and all kinds of toppings, was awesome and delicious, I know our group would kill me! We ate and then headed up to the top of Berry Hill to see if we could see any moose coming out in the meadows and bogs to feed in the growing dusk. The trail winds around this little nub of a hill like a corkscrew, and at the top, continues around in a circle for views in every direction. The sunset was orange and red and we did see several moose in the far distance, which was cool. The sky had cleared and it was looking like a nice night with a nice day to follow.
We were all exhausted from our two full days of driving, packing, shopping and then the late night and early morning ferry ride pushed us all a little over the edge, so we decided to try to find a place to crash as soon as possible so we could all rest. We saw a place an hour or so north, a provincial park called Barachois Pond, so we headed up the TransCanada Highway. I would say, within fifteen minutes of driving, everyone was asleep except me and Japhy! We drove through forests, along the coast for a short while and past small towns, and small houses near the main road. The low clouds were misting some rain here and there, and we passed over several bridges over some wild rivers and streams that looked inviting, but I didn't stop until we got there. The sky cleared too, and the sun arrived. It soon got hot enough to swim, once we found our campsite and got our tent up, so we went into the water, which turned out to be very tannic and tea colored. It was surprisingly warm, too, and felt good on my skin, reminding me of the cedar swamp Pine Barrens water of central New Jersey.
The Tannic Waters of Barachois Pond!
I retired for a much needed nap and when I awoke, dinner was ready. Ben, Nicole, Japhy and Abigail had found some freshwater mussels and cooked them up with spaghetti noodles and sauce, which was an amazing meal. We even found a few tiny pearls in some of those shells! After dinner, we all walked up to the bathrooms and showers, to clean up, fill up our water bottles and hang out. I sat and talked to one of the park rangers who was checking out the facilities, and he stopped and visited for easily thirty or forty minutes. It was our first real taste of the famed Newfie friendliness! We talked about health care, about US politics, about the park and the best trails, and the different things to see along the western coast, and much more. He was really interested in learning about where we were from, and he couldn't believe that our country didn't have national healthcare. He kept telling us about how he had such a small deductible for just about any visit! He was a very warm person and very proud of the park and the trails and beautiful wilderness areas we could see all around us.
Erin Mountain and Barachois Pond, Newfoundland
Moose Droppings!
On his recommendation, we decided to hike up Erin Mountain, our first hike on the Rock! We made some bagels for breakfast, in the rain, and then packed up some stuff for our walk and headed up. It was about 6 kilometers, and seemed to take a while to walk through the rest of the campground to get to the bridge and the trailhead, but once we got there, we were in the woods! Moss was everywhere, growing thick and soft, covering almost the entire forest floor. Moose tracks and scat were scattered along the trail as well, with broken and heavily browsed twigs and branches lining the wetlands near the path. The air was deeply fresh and smelled of balsam fir, spruce and tamarack, and more than anything, was just, well, clean, for lack of a better word. It was pure, fresh air and it was delicious!
Taking a rest in light rain on Erin Mountain
The trail had nice boardwalks in stretches that turned into stairs that led ever higher towards the summit, and we got to the top for an incredible view. The rain and wind had increased, blowing horizontally at times and the forest gave way to a rocky barrens covered in low shrubbery that provides forage for caribou. It was 'tuckermore' as far as the eyes could see! We didn't see any caribou out there, but there were small ponds, streams and low growing trees that were thick and strong. Bunchberries grew in vast patches everywhere. I even saw a few blueberries! We could see far in many directions, with mountains and even a glimpse of a great bay far to the west. It was well worth the intense climb!
Enjoying the wind and rain!
The wind picked up and we headed down the mountain. By the time we got to the bridge it was sunny and warming up. It didn't take long to pack up our campsite and load up the car for the trip north towards Corner Brook, and then up past Deer Lake and into Gros Morne. Gros Morne is the jewel of Newfoundland, with huge mountains along the coast, fast rivers, vast forests, a unique area where the earth's geologic mantle is exposed called the Tablelands, and the fjiords! And moose! I had researched these places online all winter and spring, and it was exciting to be so close to seeing it all!
Once on the road, we somehow got the idea in our heads that we wanted to taste Newfoundland Cod, or Fish and Chips, or something from the local area, so when we got to Corner Brook, the largest urban area on the west coast, we were very hungry! We started asking around to get the low down on where to go.
"C&E's" is the best place, in Mt Moriah, but it's a little out of the way" was the answer we got most of the time. But when pressed for something closer than 5 miles, they said we should try Jungle Jim's. So, we tried it. Lodged up against a hotel, near the highway, we walked into a Canadian version of Applebee's, TGI Fridays or Chili's. And there was a waiting time of thirty minutes! Back in the car we went!
C&E's Menu: Big Eric highly recommended!
Our humble eatery, and hidden treasure!
We wound around through Corner Brook and found ourselves deep in the suburban neighborhoods overlooking the beautiful bay, past the pulp mill and piles of logs, and along a small road looking for C& E's. I imagined it to look like a little seafood restaurant off the coast of Maine, all cute and rustic, maybe some rustic looking artwork or something, so we kept driving and looking. We passed it the first time, before we realized what it was. (See photo).
The Seafood Platter!
Anyway, despite the ordinary exterior, the ladies behind the counter were super friendly and helpful and explained everything on the menu. So we ordered. We got our food. We ate. We believed! We were in heaven. Sure, the ambiance was suburban drab mixed with roadside burger stand, but cars just kept coming and ordering, and the business was hoppin'. We weren't the only ones who were in on the secret! I ordered the Seafood Platter, with scallops, shrimp, a large piece of fresh Cod and clams. And coleslaw. And fries! It was soooooooo gooooood! Well worth the drive!
After we finished we rolled ourselves back in the car, and headed towards Gros Morne's Berry Hill Campground, our next camping destination. We passed incredible rivers, but soon the rain closed in, and the clouds dropped, and darkness settled on us, so we drove through the rain and dark, with most everyone sleeping as we went. The highway dropped steeply in places, and we saw our first moose in the road, in the black, speeding by. SCARY! Those things are huge! (And we see signs everywhere about the moose danger, so I drove a little slower once that happened, but we were very close so it was good!) We unloaded in the rain, set up our tent, covered it with rain tarps and got to sleep. It was a good day and we were ready for rest!
This is the semi-official blog-journal of Ricardo Sierra, founder and executive director of Hawk Circle Wilderness Educationin Cherry Valley, New York. Enjoy, learn, read, explore and leave comments!
I have lived on both coasts, traveled extensively throughout the eastern and western states, practicing wilderness skills and learning about the natural world....
I started my own camp (Hawk Circle) in 1989 and I live in Cherry Valley with my family and our small community year round.
I am particularly inspired by our ancestral heritage, by people who lived for twenty thousand years in a sustainable, balanced way, close to the land and as a community, and to learn from their example.
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