84-89: Fast Forward (St John’s – Yarmouth, NS)

Aug 1-6, 2014

These ferries are no simple rafts. I lost a little control at the buffet and ate myself into pains

I’m heading home. What a powerful motivator that can be. Whereas before I had a direction and destinination, it was a little like being suspended in place or cycling into the fog. The scenery changes as one place to the next rolls by but there’s a certain laissez-faire, experience-it-as-it-comes nature to the travel. Now I’m moving. Every kilometre, hour, and day ushers me closer to the end where the cycles stop. I’m getting excited.

Retracing my steps the first few days had a sweet, almost nostalgic feeling to it. I recalled when I last cycled there, when I was still in hope of getting to St John’s. It’s good to be able to say I made it across the country. I made it to the coast and am heading home now. The return is easier for a short distance but I can’t fathom retracing my tracks right back to beginning. The ghosts of memories and realization that the rest of my fellow cyclists on the road have packed their panniers, bikes, and headed home is too much. It’s the nightmare of returning to Mr Burns’s grade 8 class at Summers Corners, after my classmates have long moved on, all over again. I dropped out of school after grade 8 and despite more than a decade of post secondary education, my sleep is still haunted from time to time by the nightmare of trying to catching up. No, I can’t go back to the start.

Irish Cove on Cape Breton. The scene is very reminiscent of the Cabot Trail but thankfully far less climbing

This time I took the Argentia ferry so I wouldn’t need to cycle all the way across Newfoundland again and then made a beeline for the Yarmouth ferry, which will take me to Portland and within striking distance of home. This route took me through the Annapolis Valley. I have a romanticized notion of the region as a land of apples, cows, and history. I was not disappointed though lacking the patience and energy to properly explore. This place is well worth a return. The villages and grand homes lining the streets reminded me of the old New England towns around Boston I’ve been cycling through these past few years. People used to put so much effort and artistry into the homes they built before the prefabricated boxes we slap together today. Maybe their occupants led banal, tedious lives but the architectural remainders suggest interesting, rich lives to the imagination.

Farmlands and a very sticky looking red river at low tide. This time I'm on the other side of the Bay of Fundy, which has the largest tidal changes on the planet — Farmlands in the Annapolis Valley and a very sticky looking red river at low tide. This time I’m on the other side of the Bay of Fundy, which has the largest tidal changes on the planet

Close to Agentia, NL. This region long had a US army base which was influential in reorienting Newfoundland from Europe to North America

Back on the mainland in North Sydney. I like how colorful most coastal towns are

Pretty house on the water and it was for sale!

I saw so many roadside crosses but this one caught my attention because of the anonymity of the marker. Who would have put it up? And why?

Many places in Nova Scotia marketed themselves as the centre or heart of such and such. This sign was a surprise

I didn’t know that Nova Scotia had such red dirt in some regions. At low tide this would be all sticky red slick

At the end of my longest day on the trip I cycled through Paradise. I guess if you struggle long enough you do get to Paradise. There were also cows across the road

A portion of the very picturesque Annapolis Royal, which has the only or one of the few tidal hydro plants in the world

I passed many pioneer cemeteries on the trip. This over grown one was the most evocative. I also just happened to be at the end of book three in the Hunger Games trilogy and thinking about District Twelve

The last day was along coastal regions not suitable for agriculture and thus a place the Acadians were allowed to return to after the Great Expulsion. These small villages built the most exquisite churches

Another stunning church consider it’s environment but clearly the devotion of the community had waned if the upkeep is an indicator. It’s falling apart.

The last day was very foggy making for interesting but also dangerous riding. Here the river and foggy perfectly blended to create a ledge out of the island

An old cemetery on a knoll in the fog: all the materials for a ghostly tale of spirits roaming the land

Crossing the bridge in the fog without being able to see the other side created a peculiar sensation of cycling up into the unknown

Road Report: 829km
St. John’s – Argentia: 132km
Argentia – North Sydney, NS: ferry
North Sydney – Port Hawkesbury: 150km
Port Hawkesbury – Brookfield: 183km
Brookfield – Bridgetown: 205km
Bridgetown – Yarmouth: 157km

In This Place

84-89: Fast Forward (St John’s – Yarmouth, NS)

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