Adventure 530: Cheticamp, Nova Scotia/Post D

L'Auberge Doucet Inn

What a day! Beautiful blue sky, light wind, a warm last breakfast of fresh farm eggs, fresh toasted wheat bread, served beside an especially nice cantaloupe at our spot on Marble Hill in Port Hood. After breakfast, we did our extra good guest (It's all about the review) clean up, said good bye to our new friend and neighbor, Alec, who grew up just down the road. He can see his boyhood home from his deck. He joked, "I grew up here, but then I moved away" (Which meant he bought property a quarter mile up the road). After sweet good byes, we took a not too long and winding road through the bucolic pleasantness of Nova Scotia to our first stop, the jam packed (For good reason) Dancing Goat Bakery and Cafe. We bought sweet treats, lunch sandwiches, enjoyed rich hot coffee, and then we were off to our 9 KM hike along the Acadia Trail, which climbed a thousand feet along a path of sharp rocks and vine like roots. The path followed a soft, burbling creek, whose soft sounds matched the serene light flickering through the trees. The trail eventually crested to a gorgeous view of the Gulf of St. Lawrence where we enjoyed our sandwiches, the view, each other, and the warmth of the midday sun.  After the three hour hike, we arrived at our inn in Cheticamp, freshened up a bit, and dined at a restaurant on the water called L"Abri where we relished fresh chowder,  pan fried haddock and chips, and cold beer. Actually, only I had beer, but I loved it nonetheless.  And now, while writing this,  I've just finished off a sweet bit of lemon bar (Purchased at the "Goat"), topping it off with a wee little titch of Grand Marnier. I'm sure the calorie balance is in favor of my waistline since I did walk six miles today, but who really cares at this point. I'm enjoying the magic carpet ride of luxury, basking in the pleasure of new experiences and good company, which means, of course, that life is good, especially today.

My Bunny enjoying her last warm morning in Port Hood.

 The troupe in formation along the Acadian Trail.

 The view was worth the climb.

 
The trail up followed the brook; the trail down was mostly a grassy slope.

 Scrumptious lunch served by the Dancing Goat.

 Excellent food, an anachronistic MoTown sound track, and an amazing setting.

 Where's Willy?

Fresh pan fried Haddock, a squeeze of lemon, a bed of crispy fries, and a wisp of coleslaw. Yum!

Seafood chowder. I mean who would eat at Mr. Chicken when this offering is possible?

 Good night, sleep tight.

Adventure 529: Port Hood/Mabou/Post C

Morning view from the deck.

Cold wind from the sea blew on shore all day making the sixty degree temperature seem much colder. It didn't dissuade us from a body warming tour of the Glenora Distillery, an invigorating walk through the boggy fields to the sea, an exquisite home made lunch, and an enjoyable evening at the Red Shoe Pub. The rest of the crew even managed a nap. I spent nap time reading the latest Daniel Silva novel, which provided me a nice respite into a fictional world. Spy novels and the world of intrigue are a pleasant escape from the insanity of daily news. I sat in the lee of the wind, enjoying the sounds of the breeze roughing up the sea and the land. Bugs bounced off the windows, birds fluttered onto nearby horse troughs, and the constant roar reminded me that there are powers greater than humankind at work. It was restive to be held in the strong hands of nature, buoyed by my belief that while I may rail against my lack of control, I remain assured that there is a real "power" at work in this world. So, therefore art thou happy, Romeo. At the Red Shoe Pub, we enjoyed a nice bowl of seafood chowder, a wee bit of drink, and some excellent toe tapping Scottish fiddle music. Our waitress, a young local lass named Jasmine, said she was studying to become an elementary teacher. She had the smile, the charm, and the work ethic necessary for the job. I hope she makes it. Just a few nights ago, we were served by another young gal, already working as a teacher. Unfortunately, she had to moonlight as a waitress just to make ends meet. It took me back to my first teaching contract. I earned the lordly sum of $14,100/yr. I wouldn't trade a minute of it.  However, I remember with some bitter sweet fondness that our first year teaching budget allowed Anne and I the joy of sharing one baked chicken breast for dinner on Sunday nights. Yet here we sat tonight, tapping our toes to Scottish fiddle music, the pub full to the brim with well fed "boomers" just like us. The servers, all young women with smiles about their faces, bounced among us, secretly hoping (I imagine) their future lives would provide such comfort. I hope that for them too, because for us life is truly good, especially today.

 This year marks the thirty year anniversary.

 The founder kept coming back to this "glen" because of the water in this creek.

 They make their single malt whiskey in the fall.

We sampled a wee bit of the fifteen year old.

Spoiled as she is by Blanton's bourbon, Judy didn't care for the single malt.

Before our walk, we enjoyed a home made lunch of mussels, fish cakes, fried red potatoes, and salad.

On our beach walk, we viewed the failed attempt by the locals to make a bridge across the strait. Due to the power of wind, waves, and current, the attempted road was abandoned.

 We enjoyed a festive evening with the locals at this pub.

 Fish chowder, of course, is a local favorite.

Entertainment was provided by Derrick and Melody Cameron who were delightfully adept.

 Iron Man, donning his Scottish tam, agreed the night was a "score".

Adventure 528: Port Hood/Post B

Fresh fish found here.

Up early, we drove another six hours across the wilds of the Maritimes. Some fall color peeked from the trees along the way, much like a lead goose says, "Tally Ho". By the time of our return in two weeks, the leaves should be flushing their full fall bloom. We arrived at our lodging for the next two nights just after three. Judy and I immediately congratulated Deb and Ed for their selection. The place is comfortable, the view spectacular, and once again we thanked traveling mercies for our safe arrival. After settling in, we made for the village center to stock up on groceries. First stop was the sea food co-op where we loaded up on fresh scallops, seafood cakes, pickled herring, mussels, and a little home made fish spread. Next stop, (across the street) was the grocery co-op where we stocked up on essential greens, a few crackers, eggs, etc. Who says socialism is't effective? These small communities survive by depending on and caring for one another. (My Honey Bunny has me on a political moratorium, so I won't speak further on the subject). We enjoyed a wonderful afternoon, ogling at the view. Around, six, Deb steamed the mussels in white wine, garlic, and butter. We scarfed them down with a little local white wine. Sometime later, I fixed a caesar salad to match our pasta with fresh scallops with sprinkled green onion. I must say, it was another example of genuinely delicious "thick" gruel. Needless to say, with the weather perfect, the accommodations excellent, the company comfortable, and the "gruel" passable, we are once again blessed to be enjoying the notion that life is good, especially today.

 The Judique trail, an abandoned rail line, runs the  length of Cape Breton.

 My Bunny, even more exotic in French.

 Deb saw this action figure along the roadside. She exclaimed, "Wildcard". So, now Iron Man is our fifth companion.

We beelined it to the Fisherman's co-op. Notice these three marching like teachers on their thirty minute lunch break .

 Deb and Ed relishing our pre dinner mussels.

 The view from the deck, sans mussels.

 The main course of caesar salad, served with pasta and scallops topped with green onions. (In addition, we bathed the pasta in the left over mussel broth).

Art shot of the day: A picture within a picture.

 Selfie of the day: Me and my Bunny reflected in the dying light.

 Pictures can't nearly capture the emotion of the dying light.

 Our first view from the cabin: Birch Moose on the kitchen window.

 Murphy's Pond is where the local fishing boats tie up.

Judy, our comptroller, figuring out the daily bills (We split the costs 50-50, give or take a penny or two).

Adventure 527: The Prelude Continues: Enter Boston to St. Stephen, New Brunswick

Who among us can cast the first stone?

After a simply delightful and spiritually uplifting visit to the Standish Cabin on the Boulder River, we spent a busy week at home preparing for the next leg of this year's adventures. We shut down the garden. I winterized Davey Boy, the sailboat, with the able assistance of my first mate, Liz Ulmen. I boxed up Judy's bike and all of our bike gear and sent the package off in the able hands of the Mr. Brown (UPS). Judy shuttled the Drouins to their flight to Boston on Tuesday. Liz shuttled us the next morning. We arrived safe and sound at Boston's Logan airport, took ground transportation to John Logue's home in Braintree, where we spent the night. We joined the morning rush of traffic through Boston, and now, after six hours of driving we find ourselves in St. Stephen, New Brunswick. As my cousin, Douglas, often says, "It's good to be us." Thanks once again to traveling mercies, I managed to drive us here without incident. We enjoyed a fabulous dinner on the waterfront of St. Stephen, looking fondly at our home country across the river. We have another long day of driving before we reach our real destination in Nova Scotia, where we'll spend most of the next two weeks. We're traveling once again with our good buddies, the Drouin's with whom we've broken down enough barriers to share a hotel room if we desire. So, basically, life is good, especially today.

 Two buddies, arm-in-arm once again.

 My view of the soft Massachusetts morning as I practiced the form.

 Our host, John Logue's humble, yet welcoming, abode.

 Boston's morning traffic.

 Libby's market serves the best lobster roll in Maine.

 I could eat a dozen, but only had one today. 

 A bit later, Mrs. Drouin opened the galley for olive bread served with peppers, ham and cheese. 

 Happy we are to take a rest at the Winsome Inn.

 Here's a couple of winners.

 The view down river from our table at the Five Kings Brew Pub. 

 The USA in the distance.

 We shared a house salad. Fresh greens with pickled red onions and cherry tomatos, tossed with a tart vinaigrette, and topped with toasted cashews.

We shared the Mussel Bowl: mussels, ramen noodles, colorful peppers, and a lemon grass, coconut milk broth. Simply and surprisingly exquisite.