The auberge next door served a simple, yet tasty breakfast of crepes, fresh fruit, orange juice and strong coffee. Perfect way to start the day for only six loonies (a loony is one dollar in Canadian). It was around 9:00 am when I turned my bike west and hit the road. The friendly motel lady waived goodbye when I left the parking lot. The scenery was still spectacular with rolling hills and twisty mountain roads waiting to be carved.
I chatted for a while with a fellow Strommer at a rest area. His English was as good as my French but we had a good time comparing bikes. “Ah, Corbin seat?”, he asked. Nope, Suzuki gel seat. I explained it was much more comfortable than his stock seat so he had to try it out himself. It’s a bit firmer but much more comfortable in the long run. It would have been impossible to do this trip with the stock seat.
The coastal road took me past Rocher Percé, a huge rock 500m long and 100m high. It’s one of Canada’s major natural phenomena's so that makes it pretty busy in summer time. The rock rises straight up from the water and is quite an impressive sight. Even though it is very touristic spot, the town maintains a very relaxed feel and I could easily spend the day here. Strangely, the thing I remember most from Perce is not the rock but the smell of fresh-baked bread coming from the local boulanger on a side street.
Touring along the coast is very nice but it doesn’t get you anywhere fast. So it was already 3:00pm when I crossed the border into New Brunswick, about 3 hours behind schedule (actually 4 hours because I landed in a different time zone). Fortunately, the two-lane highways are very smooth, quiet and traffic flows quickly at 70-mph. I am sure there are many beautiful areas in New Brunswick but the only thing I remember going from Quebec to Nova Scotia is trees, trees and then some more trees. I have to go back there sometime to explore this province to see what else is there.
At a Tim Horton’s along the highway (the national coffee house chain), I had a pleasant conversation with a kind gentleman. He was riding his Suzuki Davidson (his words) and was curious what this Michigander was doing so far away from home. I mentioned I was glad to hear people speaking English again. He explained New Brunswick is a bilingual province and almost everybody speaks both English and French. He told me his ancestors were Acadian French, which seems to be a big thing here. “Ah yes, Acadian” I nodded in agreement, trying to hide the fact that I knew nothing about Acadians and if there is such a place as Acadia. Later in my hotel room, my travel guide explained the history of the Acadian French. One thing that stood out was the fact it is closely related to Cajun in New Orleans. Acadian = Ahcaydiun = A Cajun or something like that.
I was going to suggest that it would be more convenient for the rest of America when all the French-Canadians would convert to English. But I assumed they are pretty proud of their heritage and was not sure how many of his Acadian friends were in close proximity to teach this anglophile a lesson. So I wisely kept my mouth shut, thanked him for the information and said “Au revoir”.
After 8:00pm, the temperature was dropping quickly (overnight low of 9C) so it was time to find a hotel in Moncton. The Comfort Inn was comfortable, 3 times more expensive than my motel the night before with 3 times less character. And, unfortunately, no "nice young man" discount...
Day 7 - Pleasant Bay, Nova Scotia - 363 miles / 584 km
The morning ride started out cool but was pleasant nonetheless. It looked like rain was going to spoil the day but I was lucky. When I arrived on Cape Breton at 3:30pm, the sky opened up and changed the mood for rest of the day. The Ceilidh Trail takes you along west cost of the island, which is quiet and very scenic. I finally made it to the National Park by 5:30pm. I was thinking of finding a hotel in Cheticamp but it was such a nice evening so I decided to head into the park. Steep hairpin roads, unspoiled forests, rocky coastal beaches and wonderfull views from the mountain tops made this a wonderfull evening ride.
Rumbling down a mountain pass, my eye caught a moose
grazing on the side of the road. This was the first of many
wild life encounters in the park. Just on the northern end
of the park, the Mountian View Motel was a good place to
stop for the day.
The room was comfortable with character, just what I was
looking for. There was still an hour of daylight left so
why not go for a ride? It was surprisingly quiet for this
time of year and the twisty mountain roads were waiting.
After seeing a couple more moose and a black bear crossing
the road, it seemed like a good idea to head back to the
hotel. What a day.
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