I arose just before 8h to a nice sunny day with white clouds and blue sky; my notes say the day was cool but fail to give the temperature.
The car was in a mess after the hasty and unorganized reärrangements of my belongings following last night’s flat tire, so, after checking the air pressure in the other three tires (all fine, but the rear driver side was down a tad, so I topped it off), I repacked the car (a place for everything and everything in its place is not bad advice for a traveller). I stopped for gas at MacAuley’s (the Esso station) in Whycocomagh and they repaired the flat (it took three tries to get it to hold air, meaning three distinct punctures!) and put it on, moving the spare back to its normal place. I have no idea what might have caused the multiple punctures as I have no recollection of any bump on the newly gravelled road.
I then drove to Rocky Ridge to visit dear friends there and convey to one of them, celebrating a birthday, my best wishes for a happy day. After describing my misadventure with the flat, my ever ingenious and resourceful friend gave me a small piece of steel pipe to extend the length of the tire iron to increase its torque when removing the nuts holding the tire to the wheel.
After leaving them, I stopped for lunch at the Shining Waters in Mabou, a spot I don’t often get to frequent, but one with excellent breakfast and lunch food; I had the vegetable beef soup, which was superb, and the super club house sandwich, which was also very good. While there, I talked with a friend who looks after the Cape Mabou Trail Club system of trails and she told me all of the trails except the Poets Ridge Trail and the Sight Point end of the MacEachen Trail are in great shape; worse, the great views from the Poets Ridge are in danger of being lost because of trees growing up and blocking them. The Sight Point Road is, as usual, very rough, but she thought I could make it there with care in my Prius.
After lunch, I drove Highway 19 to the Blackstone Road and it to the West Lake Ainslie Road and it to Highway 395, stopping frequently for photos along the way. I experienced a short construction delay where they were fixing potholes before Hays River and a much longer delay at the junction with Highway 395, where the section to Highway 252 is undergoing reconstruction and repaving. I drove Highway 395 to Southwest Margaree and Highway 19 to Margaree Forks and the Cabot Trail to the Trans-Canada Highway and it to Little Bras d’Or, stopping at the Dancing Goat for lemonade and a salad and at numerous other points on the way for photos.
¹ Posted early on Wednesday, 5 July, for Thursday, 29 June.↩
David Greenwell correctly identified this view looking north along the Blackstone Road
as its junction with the Smithville Road, which enters at the right.
This one went unanswered: it’s a view of Lake Ainslie from the West Lake Ainslie Road 1.6 km (1 mi)
north of its junction with the Hays River Road.
No answers for this one either: it’s a view of Lake Ainslie from the West Lake Ainslie Road
at its junction with the Hays River Road at Mason Point
Unanswered as well: it’s again a view of Lake Ainslie, this time from just west of Cameron Road in Claverhouse.
Taken from Highway 395 north of Gillisdale.
Taken from Highway 395 north of Gillisdale.
along the base of which runs the Northeast Margaree River. There are way more than this photo captures.
Three flags are flying at the cenotaph between them. The inner one, the maple leaf Canadian flag is obscured;
name the two outer ones.
Allan Bonnar correctly answered this one: the Nova Scotia flag at the left and the Mi’kmaq flag at the right.
and similar protective construction. Along what road does it lie?
Hilda MacIsaac correctly answered this one: Yankee Line Road. The view is across the cemetery in Middle River.
This view is from the St Anns Look-off on the Trans-Canada Highway (Highway 105). The spit holds Highway 312,
with Jersey Cove, a part of St Anns Harbour, at the left, and looks across St Anns Bay to the Cape Breton Highlands
ending in Cape Smokey at the far right.
Daibhidh MacFhraing answered this as St Anns Bay, which is close: it is St Anns Harbour,
which flows into St Anns Bay.
this location against the advice of the highway officials,
who have been proven right multiple times over the years since?
The Seal Island Bridge, seen in this photo from the Bras d’Or Look-off on the Trans-Canada Highway, was the result of
a political decision described in the controversy section of this Wikipedia article.
and what is the name of the highlands in the far distance?
Linda Rankin answered the first part correctly as Boularderie Island,
while KC Beaton answered the second part correctly as the Boisdale Hills.
Sara Beaton correctly answered this as Kellys Mountain; the portion seen here is also known as Cape Dauphin.
After checking into the motel, I relaxed and had a bath. I then drove to the Blue Mist, where I had a chance to talk with Paul Cranford as he ate his dinner; he introduced me to two locals who, like me, are avid enthusiasts of the music, but do not play. I ordered the seafood platter for dinner, which was served as Paul on fiddle and Mario Colisimo on piano got the session going. Tonight, in addition to those two, Larry Parks on fiddle was the only other player I knew, but a flute player, a guitar player, and three other fiddlers also participated. The guitarist switched to cello and a harmonica and spoons player was soon added. After an hour and a quarter, Doug MacPhee took over Mario’s seat at the piano, Mario switched to guitar, and a lady whose back was to me as she played fiddle (later identified as Gillian Head) sat down. After 45 minutes or so, Doug retired from the piano and Mario took his place. About 23h, Doug resumed on the piano. I left about 25 minutes later. It was a smaller session than last week’s, but the tunes were as lively and the calibre of the playing as high, making it an enjoyable evening.
Paul Cranford on fiddle at the left, Doug MacPhee on piano, Larry Parks on fiddle to Doug’s right,
and two ladies seen from the back, Gillian Head on fiddle and a lady I don’t know on flute.
More players, whose names I also don’t know, sit outside the scope of the photo.
Back at the motel, I completed and posted Saturday’s account and retired to bed at 0h45.