Wednesday, 28 June — Reserve Mines to Whycocomagh¹

I got up just before 8h and discovered a cool (+13 (55)) grey day with light rain falling. In other years, I have not had much luck finding a non-sugar-laden breakfast in Sydney (any suggestions would be welcomed in comments), so I drove out the Louisbourg Highway and stopped at Missy’s Diner (in the Mira Ferry Market in Albert Bridge before the bridge over the Mira River), where, as the last time I ate there (for lunch rather than breakfast), I found good food very reasonably priced ($6 for two eggs, bacon, toast, and home fries and $1.50 for a large orange juice).

Although it was still raining and a very grey day, I took photos all along my journey, which went on from Albert Bridge via the Trout Brook Road to Marion Bridge and then via the Grand Mira North Road to Victoria Bridge, the three communities along the Mira where bridges cross that wide and beautiful river (there’s a fourth bridge at Mira Gut across the mouth of the River, but that community is not named for the bridge but for the fairly narrow passage through which the river empties there). The Grand Mira North Road sports a newly reconditioned paved surface from Marion Bridge to the bridge over the Salmon River, past the Two Rivers Wildlife Park, making what was until very recently a jolting, lurching, dangerous drive into as smooth a ride as one could wish for; south of the Salmon River bridge the pavement could be charitably described as poor to fair at best, recalling though not equalling the pitiable condition of the former state of the northern portion. There are a few views of the majestic river near Sandfield, but most of this road offers none until you reach Grand Mira North across from the church in Grand Mira South; thereafter, there are great views to Victoria Bridge. At Victoria Bridge, the old green truss bridge still stands, one of the few that remain.

¹ Posted on Monday, 3 July, for Wednesday, 28 June.↩

There, I turned towards Gabarus Lake (a dirt road in good condition) and, after reaching the paved Fourchu Road, drove it north to Gabarus, at the end of the Gabarus Highway. The views were resolutely grey, though the rain had diminished to sprinkles. I turned down the Gull Cove Road and drove to its end at the Lake View cemetery, which sits on a hill above Little Lake, a barachois I’d guess, hoping to espy signage or other information about the Gull Cove Trail, but found only the ATV trail leaving the cemetery.

I retraced my route to Gabarus Lake and continued south to Fourchu; that road had also been newly resurfaced from Gabarus to the Richmond County line, again making for a better ride than I expected. The views in Fourchu, a beautiful fishing port with a lighthouse, were still too grey for much photography, so I kept on going south.

A bit after 12h15, I arrived at St Andrews church in Framboise, a fine specimen of Scottish Presbyterian architecture dating from the 1800’s if memory serves. I’d have loved to drive out to Morrisons Beach and Red Cape, on opposite sides of the mouth of the Framboise River, but the weather wasn’t decent enough to justify the time doing so, given that I needed to be in Judique by 18h, so I continued south through St-Esprit and turned into L’Archevêque Harbour, one of those magical places that absolutely captivate me. The St Peters Fourchu Road was reasonably smooth from Fourchu through Framboise, but very rough from there to Grand River. It was still a steel-grey day, but there was no precipitation, so I sat at a picnic table above the harbour and wool-gathered as busy fishermen went about their affairs by the quai at my left—given the number of lobster traps already piled on shore, it looked to be at or close to the end of their fishing season.

I left L’Archevêque about 13h15, just as a bit of sun briefly pierced the clouds and the temperature had risen to +15 (59). The Soldiers Cove Road from Grand River to Highway 4 is a heave-y mess that put me in mind of a circus ride as the car lurched from side to side and back to front. I turned north on Highway 4 and stopped briefly at the day park in Irish Cove, but it was raining lightly again, so I took no photos of the beautiful views of the Bras d’Or Lake available there. I did stop in Middle Cape for a shot of a view I noticed on the trip north yesterday and again in East Bay, where I saw a sign for the East Bay Hills Trail (described here: ), which led to the trail head just off Highway 4 and gave me a trail map.

In East Bay, I turned onto Highway 216, in beautiful shape to Eskasoni but poor and rough through Eskasoni and beyond to Highway 223 in Grand Narrows. I turned off Highway 223 onto Portage Road, in poor to at best fair condition (the “Rough Section” sign wasn’t lying!).

In Whycocomagh, I showered and switched clothes and then drove to Mabou, for today is Theresa “Glencoe” MacNeil’s birthday, and dropped off a birthday card for her; she had a big group of family and friends in her home and they were on the verge of leaving for the Shoe to celebrate, so I didn’t stay long.

I drove on to Judique to the Celtic Music Interpretive Centre via Mabou Road for the first of the Wednesday night supper cèilidhs, which run from 18h to 20h (but skip KitchenFest!). Shelly Campbell and Kenneth MacKenzie on dual fiddles, Allan Dewar on keyboard, and Cheryl Smith on snares opened the cèilidh. A square set with five couples was danced and Kenneth treated us to a set on the highland bagpipes, with Allan accompanying. They ended as they began, but with Kenneth on border pipes rather than fiddle. It was a great cèilidh with magnificent playing and lots of great tunes. And I had supper as I listened. I stayed on after the cèilidh ended, chatting with folks.

One of the topics that surfaced as a result of comments on a totally unrelated photo I had posted earlier in the day had to do with the meaning of the English term sea wolf, which appears to be an English calque of the French-Canadian loup-marin, meaning seal. Both of the French dictionaries on my iPhone define it simply as phoque, the standard French word for seal. Neither of the two main English dictionaries I have on my iPhone listed it (either as sea wolf or seawolf) and I am not familiar with the term either, but a third defined it as “any of several large, voracious, marine fishes, as the wolffish or sea bass” and I found this contrasting definition online. While differing in referent, both definitions concur that it definitely does not refer to a seal! But all of my English-speaking Maritime friends I asked agreed that the term meant a seal. So it appears there is dialectal disagreement on the meaning of the English term. Margaree Island is also known as Sea Wolf Island—the Sea Wolf Island National Wildlife Area includes all of Margaree Island—and there was universal agreement that seals abound in its waters most of the year. Interesting bit of trivia that exercised my interest in all things linguistic!

I drove back to Whycocomagh via the backcountry. A huge deer crossed the road in front of me going up “Mount Glencoe”. The road from the “Plains” in Glencoe Mills to Fergusons Road in Kewstoke had been freshly gravelled and the problematic trench near Dunakin had been fixed. The car’s low pressure tire light came on on the way “down the mountain” in Dunakin, a very bad place to try to change a flat, so I kept driving past the Kewstoke bridge to the Rosedale Road where the road both straightens and widens; fortunately, the tire held enough air to get me that far without destroying the tire. I tried putting air into the tire—I have an air pump driven off the cigarette lighter—but it refused to hold any. So, it had to be changed for the full-size spare. That was much easier concluded than accomplished! I am long out of practice changing tires and had to relearn by trial and error which way to turn the jack handle to raise the car and then to figure out which way to try to turn the nuts holding the wheel to the car to get them off. Those wretched nuts just didn’t want to give; I had to jump on the tire iron to get each one of the bummers loose! Eventually, I managed to accomplish that; the LED on the iPhone was worth its weight in gold because, while I started with the light of dusk, I was so long at the task that it was soon too dark to see without it. I also had a working flashlight, but its yellow light was much less useful than the iPhone’s bright white light. Wonderful invention, those iPhones! I gave thanks to Steve Jobs for his vision in making them happen! I finally got the flat off, the spare on the wheel, and the nuts back on. As I was trying to lower the jack, a lady in a truck came along and stopped in the helpful Cape Breton way, but by then I was in no need of help, so she went on her way “up the mountain”. Once I had put back all of my belongings that I had had to remove from the back of the car and set beside the road in order to get at the tools and the spare, I was one tired and sweaty puppy! For some reason, the bugs were very sparse during this procedure when I’d have expected them to be a royal nuisance, but I killed only three mosquitoes and suffered no bites, without having to apply any insect repellent whatsoever. Makes one wonder! In any case, my memory has been refreshed enough I think I could now do the job in a third the time, not that I’m eager to try!

Back in Whycocomagh at the motel, I then wrote and posted last Friday’s account. I was in bed by 0h40. Quite the day!