Weeks 9 and 10: Sunsets, waterfalls, and chipmunks

“Queen Victoria choose Ottawa as the capital of Canada after the other cities that were in contention to be the capital all said that while they'd prefer to be the capital, if they could not, then it should be Ottawa” our tour guide Taylor told us as we walked around the perimeter of the parliament of Canada. Taylor, a university student of history, does tours at the capital as a summer job. Laid-back, but with a passion for passing along knowledge of Canada, he loved that our tour group that day was such a multi-national group: a visiting student from India, a man from Australia, a couple from Panama, and of course, ourselves from the land of freedom. We followed this tour with a tour of the interior of the parliament building, which lacked the panache of Taylor's tour. Sorry Canada, but your parliament building was dreary, oppressive, and felt like a state capital.

Although the outside was quite pretty

We had biked downtown, following a bike path that shadowed the river for a fair ways from our hotel. It continued to be fantastic to have the option for cashing out at a hotel, especially when the nice one we found on the east side of Ottawa was a paltry 10k points/ night. [and we're sitting on ~400k] The arrival to the hotel, where we were greeted with a simple, “Hello sir, checking in?” had us releasing sighs of relief: we were back in English speaking Canada.

Following the tours, we pulled up the radar on the phone: thunderstorms were almost on top of us. Hopping on the bikes, we rushed back to the hotel, getting rained on lightly by the vanguard of the storms. Relaxing in the room and looking out over the city, the weather remained ominous but the rain was nowhere to be found. “Should have stayed in the city and swung by the Black Tomato to try some of the beer” I pouted to no one in particular. It was at that moment that the skies opened up, and we watched the torrential rain lash the city. Watching the aftermath, I started laughing and pointed out to Bethany the huge puddle that had formed at an intersection outside our hotel. I promptly spent the next 45 minutes standing in the window drinking a beer and laughing maniacally as I watched car after car gun through the yellow light and then hit the puddle, which had to be over a foot deep, throwing water over the cars next to them. More than one compact car looked like it wouldn't be able to make it through.

Also, randomly, we saw a dog wandering through the rural area on the way to Rock Point

We quickly learned that camping in Ontario wasn't going to be like camping in Newfoundland. With the major population centers located within it, the campgrounds could get away with charging $50/night, and lacked wifi and some of the other amenities we'd found at other campgrounds, likely because everyone visiting could have their phones with them and just use those. [Also helping to explain the delay in our posts] Driving from Rock Point, nestled on the coast with lake Erie, we struck out for Niagara, and immediately were perplexed by a GPS route that had us going left, right, left, right at what felt like every intersection. Despite the hassle, we made it to Niagara.

I had never seen the falls [albeit speaking about them extensively in my New Horizons textbook for my JHS students in Japan], but for Bethany this was her third trip. So, following her lead, we parked a ways away and biked up to the falls. Walking along the Canadian side and taking in the view. Bethany motioned to the Horseshoe Falls farther down and said we should check them out. I couldn't help but notice the wet road under a clear sky where the falls' spray misted down. I also couldn't miss that we didn't have an umbrella or the plastic ponchos people who took the boats out to view the falls up close had. Nevertheless, I figured Bethany knew what she was doing, so we strode off towards the Horseshoe Falls. Not even halfway in we were drenched, receiving looks from other tourists, no doubt wondering why we were getting ourselves soaked through. [Ike is conveniently omitting from the story that we were not the only ones without ponchos walking through the mist.] 

Nevertheless, we started drying out and were in decent shape by the time we were boarding the boat to see the falls up close from below. The package naturally includes a stock photo of you green-screened in front of the falls:

Following the Niagara Falls region, we drove up to Niagara-on-the-Lake to do some wine touring. Parking ourselves at one of the first ones along the route, we had to admit that we again missed steady income and room to store the delicious stuff. However, we happily were able to park our car and continue the tour on our bikes. We promptly proceeded to hit up another four wineries, a brewery, and a confectionery. Doing it from a bike at once helped you not feel as bad and on the other hand made me feel about as bougie as humanly possible. Only thing missing was a fixie.

One of the early wineries we visited was touted in our guidebook for it's environmental practices and LEED certification. Despite the region touting a bike tour of the wineries, most people out on the tours were retirees in polos and slacks. We rolled in after about 7 miles on the bikes in warm weather. While in there, we ended up speaking of the trip we're on with the woman doing the tastings. Following our tasting, the woman asked us if we'd be purchasing any of the [quite expensive] wine, to which I replied, “No room on the bikes” while Bethany said “we're on a budget”. The woman quickly replied, “Yes. I can tell.” Ouch.

Our last winery stop was ad hoc; not having any luck finding another winery on the map, we were almost back to where we'd started, but saw one just off to the side and moseyed on over. We found ourselves at Marynissen winery. Inside, just the tasting server and a single couple. The server and the man spoke to each other about their passions: for the server, painting. For the man, photography [explaining the camera he had slung from his shoulder, which now was with his wife outside] “Finding a passion is what keeps you going into retirement, you know?” the man said. The server nodded sagely. “So many friends of mine, they enter retirement, and then they just sit in front of the TV wondering what to do.” He moved off to work on something else leaving us with our wine and our thoughts. After a minute, “That's why we decided to front-load our retirement.” I ventured. As I explained the trip to him, a gleam came to his eye. Here was someone who loved what we were doing. The server was hardly back before the man [Gene, I learned] was telling him of our trip. “HERE'S someone who knows what we're talking about!” Gene exclaimed. A fist bump followed. Closing time was suddenly upon us, so we made our way to the other counter to pay. Gene asked for a bottle, and then proceeded to turn to me and said, “And a bottle of whatever this guy wants.” Gene paid, I expressed my profuse thanks, his wife Jodi came in and was given a quick rundown of our trip, handshakes exchanged, and they were out the door. Turning to the server I said, “One of the best things about this trip has been the enjoyment of meeting great and generous people. $10 for the tasting?” A gruff wave of the hand met me. “This one's on me. You two have a fantastic trip.” “See, this is exactly what I mean.” A grin covered my face the rest of the bike ride back to our car, marred only occasionally as I checked my water bottle holder to make sure the bottle of wine was still snug.

Thanks Gene and Jodi!

Back in the campsite, we were pleased to see a young couple in the adjacent site. Initially, we had contemplated going to chat with them, but after the long day out and about, we were too tired to share pleasantries. [it also didn't help that all they did in their campsite was make out] I awoke the next morning and saw a Cheetos bag in our campsite. “Hrm, raccoons must have been into a campsite nearby.” I thought to myself. “Oh. My. God.” Bethany ranted. “The f$%&*!@ raccoons last night and the derps that were camping next to us. They dropped some Cheetos and then of course some raccoons came up to eat them. They started screaming because they were drunk, and then they stomped around, yelled at it, and honked their horn, to no effect. At one point I heard them screaming 'ahh! There it is again! How many ARE THERE?' morons.” I was just happy I had slept through it all.

some folks spent most of an afternoon building driftwood sculptures

We assuaged the rough night by walking a couple minutes down to the shores of Lake Erie and spent the morning swimming in the “Shark and Salt free waters.” “Man, tide is low today.” I said to Bethany as deadpan as possible. “Ike, it's a lake, there aren't tides.” Bethany emphatically replied. “But look, there are waves Bethany! It must be big enough for tides!” On and on this went. But the weather was nice and the water fairly warm.

Bronte Point campground is the closest provincial park campground to Toronto. With the weekend looming in the city for us, we wanted to limit our commute time. [HAH! Sentences I'm glad I haven't had to say in the last few months.] We rolled into the campground, and felt like we were truly back in civilization. Which wasn't hard to believe when this is the view from your campground:

The following morning, we drove to a city park about 10km outside of downtown Toronto. The plan was to meet Bethany's coworkers Peter and Amanda. We parked, grabbed the bikes, and hopped on the waterfront trail heading downtown.

Peter had warned us that getting downtown via car would be gross, and that due to construction “it is like Baghdad down here. Don't drive. Seriously. Don't Drive” The ride in was beautiful, the morning air crisp, the fog light, the biking fun. I have a bad habit of not liking to be passed when biking on trails [which makes having a hybrid bike hilarious; they're the crossovers of the bike trail], and kept leaving Bethany behind. It didn't help when we passed an actual bike race that they'd closed the highway to let go on. I had never noticed that women's competitive biking uniforms are basically one-piece swimsuits. I'm actually curious if that's all they honestly are, or if someone made a ton of money by taking women's swimsuits and rebranding them as bike uniforms and charging 3x as much.

We met up with Peter, his wife Julia, kids David and Johanna, and rode the Yacht club ferry out to the Toronto Islands. Peter told us how the yacht club he's a part of got it's start as a club for people who worked over at the bougie yacht club on the Toronto islands [which to this day requires you wear a tie on the ferry. Orfl]. True to that spirit, they keep dues low by having members put in mandatory seasonal work hours to keep buildings in good shape, help get boats into or out of the water for the season, and of course to have the occasional beer. Sounds like my type of club. The six of us made our way to the beach and spent the morning swimming in Lake Ontario. Amanda and her [new] husband Mike met up with us shortly thereafter, and we shared stories, enjoyed the warm sun and the cool water. Mike quickly taught me that I'm not off-roading to our true potential, as he told a story of how on their recent honeymoon in Antigua he gunned it into a mud puddle [pool, maybe lake to hear Amanda tell it] and was able to get water to go over the top of their rental Jeep...and into it since it was an open top.

After lunch, we disbanded and Bethany and I took recommendations and biked around the downtown area, heading for the two market districts of Toronto, [St. Lawrence Market & Kensington Market] eventually settling in Chinatown and having bubble tea. True to it's Asian roots, the establishment sold dozens of kinds of bubble tea in the front half, with the back half of the small family-run business devoted to renting movies, of which nearly half were pornographic and prominently displayed. Naturally, there were several middle-aged men in business attire perusing the available options.

Bethany and I quickly came to the realization that once again, downtown's of cities offer much less when you're on a tight budget. [And, honestly, it's hard to distinguish one western big city from another...] We made our way back to Sweetcakes, with myself once again playing the 8 year old and racing people on the way back, oblivious that I kept leaving Bethany behind.

The following morning we attended our first Lutheran church of the trip [I'm expecting there to be more in the prairies, as it sounds like most of the German and Scandinavian immigrants went out there.] Afterward, we met up with a fellow OT'er and had Korean BBQ. It was all you can eat, and JP protein-loaded pretty hard, trouncing both Bethany and I. [Don't get those guns from going light I guess.] JP showed us the scenic Forks of the Credit area outside of Toronto. Although being from Australia originally, Bethany and I kept hearing 'Fox and the Credit'. Sorry JP, we're just silly 'mericans. Following more advice from JP, we made our way to Oastler Park, near Parry Sound, north of Toronto. [Home of Bobby Orr! This is important if you're from Canada or Boston] I thanked our lucky stars that we were heading north on Sunday instead of Friday. We belatedly noticed in the guide book that the summer traffic on the highway is atrocious as people flee the city for the weekends to enjoy the beautiful countryside. I happily enjoyed not being locked in the awful traffic heading back into the city.

Pictured: Good fellowship

In our campsite on the lake, we walked around to see some of the other sites. The walk-in sites in particular were amazing, and while strolling through them, a request came from a young man to snap a picture for him. We learned that three brothers [one from BC, the other Toronto, the last from New York] were spending the week with their father [originally from Finland]. After taking their picture [the father: “ask for a photo, didn't realize you'd find professional photographers!” he said in a good-natured tone after Bethany and I moved them around a couple times to make sure the picture would be good] we explained our trip to them [again the dad, “Why are you in Canada, wasn't Wisconsin good?” again good-naturedly] and bid them farewell.

sometimes it's important to photobomb Bethany's incessant sunset pictures

The next morning we drove into the nearby town to bike on the Fitness Trail, which the park information said was a manicured 5k trail that had the best views of the bay. Ike, in all his glory, sped off and left me in the dust. After a short time the trail seemed to come to an end, but there was a sign pointing to where you could pick up the trail again. Naturally I continued on, figuring Ike was so far ahead of me that I couldn't see him. The trail here was definitely not “manicured,” and fell more into the category of mountain biking, with large boulders strewn throughout. Eventually the trail turned pretty muddy, so I turned around. A few minutes later I saw Ike peddling towards me. “Where have you been?” Turns out he had been waiting for me down by the water, near where the trail turned from manicured to unmaintained. Oops, totally didn't see him. We somehow again got separated on our way back to the car. But that gave me a chance to briefly put my feet into Lake Huron. (3 of the 5 great lakes, check!)

Next we set off to Mississauga Provincial Park, making our way north of Lake Huron. Boy were the mosquitoes bad there. The campsite redeemed itself with a little footpath right down to a lake, and we went for a quick dip in the water to cool off (and keep our skin from being bitten).

The next day we headed for the “Soo,” and crossed back into the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave via Sault St. Marie. I still don't understand how “Sault” is pronounced “Soo,” but I digress... We filled up with seriously cheap gas right across the border, and headed off to explore Michigan's Upper Peninsula for a couple of days.

Tahquemenon Falls in the UP are the second largest falls east of the Mississippi, which was kinda like being the second best team in the East of the NBA this last year. When Niagara is number one, and fresh in your memories, the tannin-stained water of Tahquemenon is almost quaint. “Sure bud, you're real big! Yeah, tons of water! The roar is almost deafening! Sure thing buddy.” The stairways had signs at the top proclaiming the exact number of stairs down to the falls. “No doubt to allow the old folks to weigh the costs and benefits of seeing the falls versus icing their knees for the next week straight.” Bethany said.

poverty Niagara

Niagara-lite

Water that doesn't need to be boiled isn't always a given on this trip, so we like to fill up the water jug when it's available. As I stood waiting for it to fill, a tentative “excuse me?” drifted over my shoulder. I turned around to see a slightly sheepish man looking at me as he stood near his vehicle. “Do you have jumper cables by chance?” he said. I smiled, “Sure do. Battery's dead?” I said, immediately realizing that it was that or torture, and somehow the latter didn't seem likely. “Yeah,” he responded. “I have an inverter for my electronics hooked up to the battery....” he trailed off. “And you drained it and now it won't start, right?” I finished for him. “Why, do you have one too?” “Sure do.” “And you never have problems with the battery?” “Well....ours is hooked up to a solar battery, which is hooked up to a solar panel on the roof of our vehicle.” His eyes widened a bit at at that. “We're on a long-haul trip. It's a bit excessive but it's nice to not worry about having power.” I finished. “Where in Wisconsin are you from?” I ventured. “Green Bay. Son's up here with us and he went to the University and still lives in Madison.” Always happy to help a 'Sconnie, and happier still that it was our vehicle helping jump another instead of vice-versa.

The Pictured rocks [or as Bethany kept calling them, the Painted rocks] are yet another scenic stop in the UP. For us, though, the highlight of them was seeing a chipmunk avidly attacking a jolly rancher someone had left on the ground. The wrapping stood no chance and he went to town on the bar of sugar. With another one sitting on the sidewalk, we couldn't help picture the little guy eating both and entering a hell of a sugar coma.

We wrapped up our time in the UP at Porcupine State Park. “You wanna stay here too?” The park registration guy seemed shocked that yes, we did want to stay here despite no, we don't have a reservation. Come on, it's a Thursday night! The campground was half empty. We picked out a spot, set up our site, and promptly climbed down to the shore of Lake Superior. (4 out of 5: Lake Michigan... you're next)

We are spending a week or so visiting family & friends in Wisconsin and Iowa, then will be continuing through Western Ontario and into Canada's prairies.  

Sweet sweet corn

Not pictured: Bethany constantly screaming "REDBUD" at Spring Creek instead of Redbud.

Week 8: Quebe....quoi?

I must say that, while I enjoyed crossing Labrador, I was ready to head back towards civilization after our hot and dusty days there. Crossing the border into Quebec was anti-climatic. We were still a 9 hour drive and 400 miles from civilization, with a good chunk of that being more gravel road. Fortunately the scenery was absolutely stunning: thickly forested mountains and valleys, the road running along rivers and lakes. It was a beautiful sunny day, and while the scenery was beautiful, it was another hot one in our car without the AC. We learned the hard way in Labrador that it is best to keep the windows shut while on gravel, if at all possible. After driving with the windows down for several hundred miles of gravel in Labrador, we found that everything in our car was dust covered! Dust even made it inside our rubber storage containers. Needless to say, we were ready for a nice cold gatorade when we encountered the first gas station (at the impressive Manic 5 hydro dam... see previous post).

We spent our first night in Quebec at a private campground in Les Bergeronnes. This is prime whale-watching country, since it is right along the banks of the St. Lawrence river. That first night we discovered that French is king in Quebec. We (naively) assumed that everyone would speak French as their first language, but also speak English if necessary. Nope, not the case. Many people spoke no English whatsoever. Here's to putting my 2 years of high school French to use! “Je ne peux pas parler le francais.” (I can't speak French) Our first night back in civilization was spent doing laundry, cleaning out our disgusting cooler, enjoying a hot shower, and getting groceries. Pretty glamorous, right?

The next day (which happened to be Canada Day) we ventured down the road to Tadoussac, situated where the Saguenay Fjord meets the St. Lawrence River. Again, right in the heart of whale watching country. The warm water from the fjord results in an abundant food source for the whales. 

We walked along the shore and saw a few whales from a distance. We also checked out the biggest sand dunes I've ever seen! Pro tip: going down is a lot more fun than walking back up!

Lookin' like I'm 'bout to drop the hottest album of 2014

Despite it being a national holiday, we were able to find a shop that was open and got our oil changed. We had stopped and asked the tourist information area if places were open being a holiday. “It's just a bank holiday! Places are still open!” She cheerily told us. So we went down the block to the nearby gas station 'avec service'! And asked the gentlemen there for an oil change. “Sorry, it's a holiday so no one is here to do that!” he replied. Derp. So driving out to Tadoussac, we spotted a gas station that had a car up, so I pulled around to get gas and see if we could get an oil change. Swinging in for gas, I asked the gentlemen doing full service if we could get an oil change. He had no idea what I was saying, no I him. He looked at the license plate and said, “Etat Unis?” That much I understood. He found another man on a motorcycle filling up with gas and got him to act as a translator for us, at which point we were told indeed, they could do an oil change for us. So we meander inside after pulling our vehicle around. We were told the wait would be about 10 minutes. An hour later, they were getting started. Other highlights included watching sweetcakes rock on the lift from the added rear weight; trying to ask the mechanic how many kilometers the oil was good for, and trying to figure out how many liters of oil we needed.

With our car back in good shape, we headed towards the Saguenay Provincial Park and were shocked to find out that the Quebec provincial parks were super expensive! It ended up costing about $50/night, ouch. This was hard to swallow after the $20/night we were used to in Newfoundland and Labrador. After setting up the tent we headed back into town to catch the USA vs. Belgium game. We drove up to what might have been the only bar in town, found the owner sitting out on the bar's deck enjoying a vodka cocktail in the middle of the hot afternoon, and ducked our heads inside to see if he had a TV. Not speaking English, he still managed to ask “Soccer?” To which we gleefully replied “Oui!” He pulled up the game on the TV and served us up some refreshing beverages while we watched the men play. A few minutes later a family of three walks in, also trying to catch the game. Turns out they were visiting from Belgium... what are the odds? As any of you who watched know, the US went down 2-0 in extra time, then almost stormed back to tie it, all with Tim Howard putting on a game for the ages. After we went down 2-0, I put my card on the bar and sighed. Two minutes later the US scored and I slapped my hand on the card and pulled it back. The bartender laughed really hard at that.

The next day we drove along the fjord and then down to Jacques-Cartier Provincial Park. Another day of stunning scenery, all along the fjord and then back into smaller mountains. JC park was a huge area and we didn't find much information about the exact location of the campground, but figured there would be plenty of signs along the drive. Leaving the city of Saguenay, we headed south through the wildlife reserve. Ike was driving and then suddenly said “There was a brown sign for the park, but I couldn't read what it said [because it was in French].” I glanced up and saw a small dirt road and shrugged it off. Surely that wasn't the entrance to the park.... keep going. About 20 minutes later we see a similar sign and I tell him to pull over this time and take the small road. We drive back into a forest and eventually see a sign that says there is no camping allowed in this part of the park, and that about 15 minutes down the road you can purchase a day use pass. Ok... whatever that means. We get back on the road and eventually come to the area the sign mentioned, but it turns out it is a ski resort. We pull over anyway, and it turns out there were people working there despite it being summer. “Bonjour. Parlez-vous anglais?” “Yes, how can I help?” (Ohh, thank God!) I explained that we were looking for the campground, but that the signs were confusing and we were worried we had passed it, but weren't sure. Turns out we had to drive about another 20 minutes then we would find the entrance to the campground. The employees were super helpful and even checked online to make sure there were still campsites available.

We got back on the road (again!) and finally came upon the campground entrance. All of a sudden I feel Ike braking pretty hard and glance up to see a red fox trotting across the park road carrying a dead squirrel. Nice. We pull up to the park visitor center and stroll in to register. Again: “Bonjour. Parlez-vous anglais?” The man behind the counter replied “Yes, but only a little.” A very common response that we heard in Quebec. I don't know why all the parks employees say this, because their English was plenty good to help us register. Another $50 later and we made our way to the campsite. We went for a short bike ride along the river. I called out to Ike to stop when I saw something in the water. It kind of looked like a rock, but then kind of not. After watching it for a few moments, all of a sudden a large head rose up out of the water. Turns out it was a caribou standing in the river cooling off but sticking his whole head under water. Ike accused me of it being a rock (this goes back to Labrador when I saw a rock and swore it was a whale...), but then saw the caribou's head come up out of the water again. See, I'm not totally crazy. We made our way along the long paved entrance, found a place to stop, and took half an hour sitting on rocks along the stream with our legs in and enjoying the sun setting along the mountains. Many Quebec parks have extended entrances to the park that are paved and have signs that say “Welcome Cyclists!” Seriously like 10km long. Makes for a nice ride.

The next morning we packed up early and drove into Quebec City for the day. We had trouble finding parking, then we found out that our Discovery Passes didn't cover admission to the Citadel ($16/person), and so by mid-morning we were feeling pretty down on Quebec. It was expensive, poor signage, and it seemed the province went out of it's way to not use English, whereas all the other provinces we had visited went out of their way to include both English and French at all tourist areas. But, lucky for us, Quebec quickly redeemed itself. We walked around the old city walls for a bit, then found a national historic site that was included in our Discovery Pass and toured the old Governor's mansion/castle.

1. Fairmont Le Château Frontenac Hotel in the background towering over everything.

 It was pretty interesting, but the best part was the friendly man working the ticket counter. He suggested that we walk out of the walled old city (the tourist area) and recommended some streets with good breweries and eateries. We ventured out of the city gate along Rue St. Jean. Eventually we came upon Le Projet, which had Quebecois microbrews and a scrumptious looking menu. Recharged, we set out to enjoy the afternoon. The waiter/owner was extremely kind and enthusiastic. Had great recommendations for food [BBQ spare rib poutine? HELL TO THE YES]and would respond to our requests with: “It would be my pleasure.” with a huge grin. Great guy; also, anyone that puts memes on their signs has to be awesome, right?

We ended up walking past the St. Jean the Baptist Church and popped in for a quick look. Immediately Olivier kindly greeted us and asked if we wanted a free tour. Free? Sure! Olivier's knowledge of the church architecture, statues, and stained glass was impressive. We easily spent an hour and a half learning every detail about the church, which was immaculately decorated. I'm really impressed with the opulence of the cathedrals and basilicas in Canada. They're stunning.

Having lost track of the time, we sprinted back inside the city walls to catch the afternoon English walking tour of the old city. We had just missed the tour, but the kind woman at the ticket counter walked us over to join the rest of the tour group. [splitting into two groups, we meandered around and saw cool historical bits from old Quebec City. Favorite tidbit for me was seeing the 'broadhead arrow' marked on different things which signified the item belonged to the British government. We initially saw it on some old cannons, but it was hidden around town on buildings, old walls, etc.] The tour ended with a black powder demonstration by some Parks Canada employees (we love Parks Canada!). We strolled back to our car and made our way back out of the city. Ike and I have discovered that you don't need much time in a city when you don't have much money to spend. :)

That night we drove a few hours to La Mauricie National Park, situated between Quebec City and Montreal. As we drove we noticed the landscape was starting to change. It felt more like the Midwest, and not only from the smells of cow manure that wafted through the windows. The land was flattening out and the trees were far less dense. We rolled into the park entrance after the sun had set, hoping that a campsite was still available. Again with the “Bonjour! Parlez-vous anglais?” We were greeted by a friendly woman with wonderful English. Not only did she hook us up with a great campsite, but she spent a good 20 minutes helping us pick out some hiking trails to enjoy during our stay and some other activities. “Is there wifi?” (Ike's number one question) Turns out there was a brand new visitor's lodge in our campground, complete with wifi and leather couches. The woman apologized that she did not have all of the information since it had just opened yesterday. Ohhh, no problem, we assured her.

The forecast had called for rain the next morning, so we were planning to take it easy and relax at our campsite all day, doing our best to stay dry. We woke up to a few sprinkles, but then it turned out to be a gorgeous sunny day. We went for a nice hike through the mountains and along some lakes.

I had really been craving some vegetables since they weren't available/weren't good quality in Labrador, so we headed to the nearest grocery store and found an abundance of cheap, super fresh produce. We stocked up! That night Ike made a round of fresh mojitos while I prepped our first smittenkitchen recipe of the trip: pasta with fried zucchini. 

The next day we went for a 10 mile bike ride along a national trail that gave us a run for our money.... lots of hills and large, loose gravel. But it was fun, nonetheless. Several people have asked us how we're able to spend as much time with each other as we have been, and if we're driving each other crazy. I feel it's worth interjecting here that while the bike ride was great and challenging, we spent the entire thing basically apart because we had a spat within the first 10 minutes and spent the next 10 minutes fuming and then not riding with each other. By the time we were done though we were fine. Endorphins from exercise are great for putting those times past you.

Sunday morning we woke up early and packed up camp, driving in to Montreal. We found some parking then walked over to the Notre Dame Basilica for their 11am mass. Apparently this place does a sound and light show when it's not having mass, so the area was swarming with tourists. We were told by the lady patrolling the entrance that if we entered now (when mass was about to start), we had to stay the whole hour. We couldn't just drop in for a quick look. Yes, we assured her, we were indeed here to attend the mass. The basilica itself was stunning. Ornately carved and painted trim all along the walls and ceilings, statues, stained glass, the whole works. Mass was in French, which was pretty funny since 2/3 of the attendees had to be tourists and many did not speak a word of French. But we all went through the motions like good Catholics. And a petulant Lutheran.

After church we found a nice place to have brunch outside, soaking up more sunshine. We then had a bit of a hike across the city to visit the Fine Arts Museum, which has free admission to the main exhibits for folks under 30. We did realize how huge the museum was! Three separate buildings where we could have easily spent the entire day. We wandered through a few galleries, including the African masks. Montreal was beautiful, but again we felt like we had seen enough of it given that we weren't in a position to spend a lot of money. We headed back to our car and set out to Plaisance Provincial Park, near the border with Ontario.

When we pulled in we were greeted by a family of beavers having their evening meal in the lawn outside the visitor's center. Pretty adorable to see a baby beaver high tail it across the lawn to hide beneath a rock. 

Watching these guys run is ADORABLE

We set up our tent then hopped on our bikes to head back into the small town, where we had spotted a small ice cream shop on our way to the campground. The ice cream was delicious, but what the heck is going on with this statue?

We awoke the next morning to rain. So much for enjoying a few hours riding our bikes and enjoying the trails along the river. After hiding out in the tent for a couple of hours reading, we packed up and hit the road for Ottawa, biding Adieu to Quebec and the land of the francophone's.

Week 7: The land God left to Cain

“Not even a wagon load of good soil on the entire rock. Surely this must be the land God left to Cain” were the words French explorer Jacques Cartier wrote in his journal detailing Labrador.

Labrador is an anachronism: Lush green forests prone to forest fires; the furthest north we've been, but the hottest temperatures we've experienced [90+], people speaking with Irish and southern accents blended together, extremely friendly people who swear like sailors when they first meet you, and everyone [everyone] driving a pickup truck. Newfoundland tried to sell Labrador no less than two times [to no avail], the failure of which forced Newfoundland's hand and drove it to confederacy with Canada in 1949. Today it's mineral deposits are driving a boom in Newfoundland's otherwise stagnant economy.

“Wisconsin? What the hell are you doing up here then?”;  Bethany and I were camping at Blue Mounds last summer, planning the trip and looking at Google maps when one of us said, “I wonder if you can drive through Labrador?” A cursory Google search brought us to the the pdf about the Trans-Labrador highway [link] describing the trip. A giddy laughter went through us as we looked through it. Here was a place that made Newfoundland look cramped and was advertised as “The last frontier in North America”.

L'anse aux Meadows, on the northern tip of Newfoundland, rocketed to fame in the late 1960's when archaeological evidence corroborated information in Icelandic sagas proving Lief Erickson son of Erick the Red, had made it to America circa 1000 a.d, hundreds of years before Columbus made his trip. [and thousands of years after the indigenous peoples.] One of the first UNESCO sites, L'anse aux Meadows does a fantastic job of outlining the expansion of Nordic peoples first to Iceland, then Greenland, and finally the Americas. They also do an admirable job paralleling Innu culture with the Viking culture through the guise of explaining interaction between the two groups. Nearly half of the exhibit space is dedicated to Innu, which helps encourage learning about the cultures who spent way more time inhabiting the space. [The Viking's base camp lasted a decade at most.]

The gentlemen informed us L'anse Aux Meadows didn't get electricity until the 70's.  Not sure if he's in costume or not.

On one hand, it's incredible to think of Europeans making their way through parts of Canada so much earlier than we initially think, but on the other hand, the exhibit shows how it was a series of much much shorter voyages. Scandinavia to England was less than a week. England to Iceland was 6 days, Iceland to Greenland was 8 days, and Greenland to L'anse aux Meadows 7 days. But looking at the ships they took didn't make me particularly enthusiastic to try and follow in their footsteps.

Greenland, being completely devoid of trees, didn't make a great home for the Viking settlers. [Although hilariously, a translation of the sagas shows Erick saying that they need to call it Greenland to convince people to go live there.] That prompted the explorers striking out for resources, and despite naming Labrador Markland [land of trees], they kept on to Newfoundland, and likely New Brunswick with it's nuts and grapes. [garnering the name Vinland]

The ferry to Labrador actually takes you to Quebec, but is just a few km's from Labby and its new UNESCO site dedicated to Basque whalers who formed the next European link with the Vikings. We Americans like to think European involvement in the Americas [or at least, North America sans Mexico] didn't really kick off until Jamestown in 1620, but this trip has been an exercise in remembering to not be so kickass-centric. Throughout the 16^th century, Basque sailors would make the trek from Spain over to the coast of Labrador to hunt for whales. Thousands would make the trip every year, but history just kinda forgot about it. It wasn't until the early 70's that a woman [name?] was reading through old notary documents in Spain that she realized it was referencing Labrador. Excavations were happening in Labrador a few years later, but things took off when a shipwreck in Red Bay was found in almost pristine condition.

Over the seven decades they whaled there, records tally over 25,000 whales caught. Eventually, overfishing, the onset of the little iceage, and emerging English and Dutch domination of the Atlantic put an end to the whaling.

I was a bit anxious as we disembarked the ferry – what did Labrador have in store for us? A flat tire and/or a cracked windshield, as encountered by other travelers that we chatted with? Would a bear come check out our campsite? And what about the black flies? We put the wilderness part of Labrador on hold one more night, instead driving an easy hour to nearly the end of the pavement. We stayed in Labrador's only provincial park, located right along a beautiful sandy beach. This was the first sunny day where we actually felt hot, so we took off our sandals, walked along the beach, and enjoyed the icebergs floating just off the shore. Ike had fun tormenting the seagulls, then suddenly found himself knee deep in quick sand.

Oh this isn't so bad!

wait a sec....

Ok, I retract my statement

Labrador is making a strong push to pave the entirety of the Trans-Labrador highway. Having now driven it, we can understand why. The whole thing is just over 600 miles [plus an additional 3-400 in Quebec to get back down to civilization]. Points to stop along the way are frequently just towns of a few hundred people; enough to get gas and soldier on. 5 minutes outside Red Bay, we were sitting at a stop. “Blasting just happened; need 10 minutes for them to clear off the road.” we were told. Striking up a conversation with the other guy in line and the construction worker holding the stop sign, I quickly learned I was happy we had new tires and shocks. “It's a good job. I get three meals a day: dinner, supper, and dust.” After Red Bay, we filled up at Port Hope Simpson, the last stop for the next 450 km. And then went out into the wilderness. Finding a roadside offshoot, we strode in and set up camp in the middle of nowhere. We'd been warned about the black flies, but it was here that we got to experience them in their true element: swarms of hundreds flying around you, heedless of your pathetic attempts to get them to leave you alone. Landing on any exposed skin and leaving bites that bleed and welt. Bethany and I broke out the bug head nets and found ourselves in relative comfort. I was also a bit dismayed to find the black flies wanted nothing to do with my feet, despite them being uncovered. It wasn't like they didn't know they were there, as they would repeatedly land on them, but then promptly fly away, likely out of fear.

Sometimes it's just you, your rig, and the endless sky black flies

The following morning saw another few hundred KM's on gravel [wooooof] but we did get to see our first bear, chilling out with another vehicle making the trip, and another moose. Finally, the fauna we'd been promised!

Happy Valley – Goose Bay is a town that exists because of the military base. The airstrip serves as an alternate landing site for the space shuttle, and planes needing a landing before going back out over the ocean. As we meandered the base, aimlessly trying to find the movie theater [and eventually giving up] we saw a gigantic Russian Volga-Dnepr

Gloriously, the road to Labrador City was mostly paved. [And we saw our second bear along the way.] The only campground in the Labrador city area is a gigantic RV park. Hundreds of rigs and our lonely tent, stashed between Sweetcakes and a bush to be out of the wind.

We had received warning that there was a forest fire outside of Labrador City.  We saw the smoke coming into town, just a few miles outside, but it didn't look that dramatic.  But we also saw evidence of prior fires that had devastated the forests.  With no one living in them and the area being so remote, response times are very delayed.  It was interesting, because the trunks retain their black scarring for years, but their branches and the flora around them is all green and rebounded.  Some were clearly fresher than others.

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“You lookin' for pa?” the young boy sitting on the overturned five gallon bucket asked Bethany. I came around the corner after closing the door I had opened hoping to find an office for the campground; instead, it was a laundry room.

The campground was swarming with hordes of little boys riding around on their bikes. Apparently our campsite was on a main thoroughfare, because they kept going past us. I was chilling in one of our zero-gravity chairs (so glad we brought these along, btw) waiting for dinner to finish cooking, and a couple of boys rode by especially slowly. Tired of just being stared at, I shouted “Howdy.” This triggered one to go from an expressionless face to a silly smile and a “ahaaa”. His friend promptly asked “Are you a cowboy?” Shoot, I forgot to bring my 5 gallon hat.

This region generates some serious hydro power. We passed a giant hydro generation plant near Labrador City. It had a real-time meter that said it was producing 2,256 MW, which is just insane. Of course the generation plant was paired with a giant substation and then a sprawling high voltage transmission line. We drove by 5 more hydro plants once we crossed the Quebec border (the manic 1-5 dams), passing right beside the largest dam (Manic 5). The power generated from these hydro plants powers most of Quebec, so we have been told.

Hard to get the sense of scale right with photos.  See the power lines on the ground near where the concrete starts?

Yeah.......

I am happy to report that Sweetcakes is doing well. We are hoping to get our AC fixed now that the weather is getting warm and we are back in civilization. Miraculously we survived the Trans-Labrador Highway with no flat tires and no cracked windshield. Sweetcakes: 1, TLH: 0. :)