Sunday, 23 July 2006

Lomond River Lodge to Trout River (Newfoundland)

A couple of beers is good for the muscles after a hard days cycling, I'm convinced of that. 6 or more chased down by a couple of shots of Screech is bad. Definitely makes you feel weary.

It stayed dry all night until 7 am, just as I was thinking of getting up. It was raining hard enough to keep us all in our tents for a couple of hours. Eventually I got up and discovered that they served breakfast in the little take-out next to the office. We sat having breakfast and waiting for the rain to ease off. I packed up the bike and when I set off it was barely raining at all. I forced my weary legs up the hills stopping only for some photos of the mountains with the clouds blowing in between. Don't know how they'll come out. Then there was a long fast downhill, [that I found out later is called 'The Struggle' by the locals] tucking down out of the wind I shot down, peaking at over 70 km/h to Glenburnie on the coast of Bonne Bay (Silent 'e')

It was a pretty ride all along the edge of the bay through Birchy Head and Shoal Brook to Winter House Brook. The cloud was lifting and it seemed as if it would stay dry for a while. The Gros Morne Discovery Centre is a short steep climb up from Winter House Brook and has some great views over the South Arm of Bonne Bay. I spent about 3 hours in the Discovery Centre, looking at the exhibits, watching the whales in Bonne Bay, sampling the jams made from the various local berries (apparently Bunchberry tastes like wet toilet paper but is very nutritious so it just gets used as a 'filler' with other berries!)

Mike and Kelly were there too but sadly left to get the ferry from Woody Point while I was in the theatre watching a couple of films about the geology and ecology of Gros Morne, so I didn't get to say goodbye or get a photo of them with their bikes. Yet again failed to get the people photo.

A little after 4 pm it looked as though the weather was closing in again so I decided to head off to Trout River. There were a couple of steep climbs on the way but once on the Tablelands I had a strong wind behind me and so I was bowling along at 40+ km/h on the flat. The Tablelands are interesting because the rock is very old and comes from deep in the earth - part of the earth's mantle that has been pushed up to the surface by the collision of tectonic plates that created the Appalachian range. Apparently it's unusual for rock from so deep to be at the surface and as it is toxic to most plants, since it contains metals such as nickel and copper, it is pretty barren. The road must travel along the fault line as one side of the valley is green, covered with pants, and the other side is the barren yellow rock of the Tablelands. Hopefully I'll get some good photos on the return journey, weather permitting.

The was a steep roll down into the little community of Trout River (I look forward to going back up there!) and I stopped at the Sunset Cafe, as they had internet, but ended up staying for dinner. A 'Chinese' meal with rice made a pleasant change from something and fries. I made a quick visit to the Interpretation Centre on the waterfront before cycling out to the campground next to the 'pond'. (Trout River Pond is a huge freshwater lake created when a glacially carved fjord became cut off from the sea.

The campground ($22.75 - ouch!) had a kitchen shelter with a wood burning stove, so I sat in there with a couple from Ontario, Mike and Kathy, who shared their Blueberry wine with me, while we sat listening to Cyril the campground warden as he talked about his life in Newfoundland. He'd been part of a family of 22 siblings growing up on a farm on the Burin Peninsula. 22 siblings and no twins. A child a year for 22 years! (How would you remember all the names?) They could only manage to survive because they had their own animals and grew most of their own food. The only food they used to buy was flour and sugar. They bought the flour in 100 lbs bags - and used the bags to make clothes out of - usually pants. (i.e. trousers) He started work on a fishing boat at 12 years old and had worked all his life. Even now he had 3 jobs and in his spare time built very detailed scale model boats - incredible for someone whose hands were like shovels. I wouldn't like to shake his hand - he'd break bones I'm sure. He wasn't a big man but each finger was easily fatter than my thumbs; from years of lifting 200 lb crates of lobster and fish. He knew so much about fishing, hunting, carpentry, etc. and had tales of how everything was done 'by hand' in the past. When they were hunting they might kill a moose, cut it in half and 2 men would carry it out, then turn round and go straight back for the other half. An incredibly tough life. Capelin only spawn when the males develop 'washboards' on their flanks. The female has a male on either side, pressing her to squeeze out the eggs as they swim up the beach onto the sand to spawn. So, a menage-a-trois then. Sounds great until you hear that the males die in the act of spawning. He spoke broad 'Newfanese' so was difficult to follow sometimes, but fascinating.

Distance: 45.1 km
Cycling time: 2:35
Total distance: 4421.3 km