Along the coast north of Cape St Lawrence

At the automated light, the wind was blowing fiercely enough I had great difficulty keeping my sun hat on my head (fortunately, it has a strap, so if it blows off, it still stays attached to my neck). This came as no surprise, as each other time I had been here, the wind had also been very strong. In spite of the beautiful sun and the warmth I’d worked up hiking the trail, I was soon chilled enough to don another sweat shirt, but that wasn’t enough, so I decided to get out of the wind. I therefore headed up the hill above the Cape, inland from the north coast. Since the wind was from the west, a position just below the rocks along the south side of the ridge served as a fine wind break. While I had lunch there, I enjoyed the sun, the views, and watched two lobster boats servicing their traps in the waters off the Cape; then, I set off to explore. The views on this page are taken from this hill.

Photo #1 was taken looking to the southwest from near where I had my lunch behind the southern edge of the ridge on the hill above Cape St Lawrence. Most of the coastal plain is hidden by the nearby rocks and terrain on the ridge, which served as a very effective wind break while the sun warmed me back up as I ate lunch.

Photo #2 looks down from the hill at the automated light and the tip of Cape St Lawrence, with the coastal plain along the northern coast visible at the right. Although they don’t show up particularly well in either photo #1 or photo #2, the grass was rife with wildflowers of many varieties, a few of which were seen on the previous page.

[continued below]

Photo #3 looks up at the crest of the ridge from near where I ate lunch; a stand of evergreens broke some of the wind and the boulder cut off some of the breeze that made it through them. This stand reflects damage caused by the spruce bark beetle, which has killed off half its trees. Although most of the forest at Cape St Lawrence was still in excellent shape in 2013, some damage, such as this, was evident at various localized spots. It is truly sad that there is nothing that can effectively be done to prevent the destruction of these beautiful trees. What Mother Nature giveth, she taketh away.

Photo #4 is a telephoto view at a portion of the summit of the hill above Cape St Lawrence, previously seen in full here; like that photo, it was taken from near the automated light. Although I could not see that from below, this photo makes it clear that the forest has no obvious open gaps that would allow one to easily progress in an eastward direction through it.

[continued below]

This photo shows that the coastal plain wraps around the northern end of Cape St Lawrence and appears to show a path to the rocky outcropping above the “funnel”; one of the purposes of this hike was to discover whether I could find such a path. Photo #5 looks at a deep gully that put paid to any idea of just following the coast to the east: for a single person of my age hiking alone, I judged it to be just too dangerous; while a younger, fitter, more athletic person with some rock climbing skills and ropes might well be able to make it across, that was definitely not in the cards for me.

Photo #6, which overlaps partially with photo #5, shows the continuation of the gully as it continues up the hillside, reaching the boundary where the coastal plain yields to the forest. Moreover, I saw no animal paths in the grass, which raises the intriguing question of why the plain on the other side of the gully has not gone back to forest.

[continued below]

I retreated from as close to the edge of the gully as I dared get (I have seen too much erosion under the lips of gullies to get close enough to peer down to the bottom) back to where I had lunch and decided to move well inland and see if the gully were as deep further up the hillside and whether there might be any path through the forest there. Photo #7 shows what I encountered there; the gully remains, though it is no longer as deep, and is now blocked with trees to boot.

Photo #8 shows that, even if one could get across up here, there is no reasonable continuation on the far side. So, after tramping around a bit, I concluded that I was not going to find any feasible way for me to cross the gully.

[continued below]

Photo #9 shows the coastal plain out towards “Tittle Hill” from the ridge where I had been exploring. The valley through which French Brook runs is defined by the thin row of trees beyond the largest clump where two cattle are walking, perhaps to get a drink there. The hiking path to Lowland Cove can be seen crossing the coastal plain, bypassing a couple of eroded areas on its way to French Brook.

Photo #10 is a close-up of the automated light and the tip of Cape St Lawrence as seen from the ridge. The daylight is such that it brings out the several lobster trap floats on the waters below. With this view, it was time to begin thinking about the return trip; I knew it would take me a long while to make it back “over the mountain” to Meat Cove, so I left the ridge and started walking slowly back down to the trail.

[continued below]

Photo #11 looks back up at the ridge leading to the hill above Cape St Lawrence behind which I had been exploring; it was taken on my way back down to the trail to start the return trip back. The trees at the centre of this photo also show some damage from the spruce bark beetle, but this is a different stand than that seen in photo #3, which is in the far distance left of this stand.

Photo #12 is a close-up of some of the rocks that are found along this ridge. I do not know whether this is a natural outcropping of rocks or whether the stones seen here were collected into piles by the inhabitants of the small community that once lived here; it is likely some combination of both, as removing the ubiquitous rocks would be necessary to prepare land for vegetable gardens and the like.

With this view, my stay at Cape St Lawrence came to an end. I hope you have enjoyed the views as much as I did then and now while reliving this wonderful day and place through these photos, a handful of the many I took that day.