La Manche Provincial Park, La Manche Village, Bauline East

Today, our butts did not meet the saddles. After getting up at camp and having REI freeze-dried meals for breakfast, we hiked out to La Manche Village, a small, isolated settlement destroyed in 1966 by a fierce storm that swept away the houses perched on the rock overlooking the ocean). The views were, once again, spectacular, but it’s hard to imagine what life must have been like for the villagers, connected to the outside world apparently by only narrow mountain-side trails.

Our hike then took us to the town of Bauline East, where we had a late lunch and then signed up for Colbert’s Puffin & Whale Tours. The ship took us around an island, a huge rock whose rock strata were plainly evident, and on which many puffins nested in a manner reminiscent of Cape St. Mary’s. Most fascinating was watching the adorable puffins floating and flying on the water. They are not the most gracious fliers: they flap their short little wings furiously, like a wind-up toy, as they follow their stout colored beaks in search of food. The youngest (or was it most stuffed) of these penguin doppelgangers had a hard time gaining altitude; quite often they would simply skim the surface of the water before giving up and diving under as they tried desperately to escape the pursuing seagulls.

After returning to camp, I once again marveled at the night sky. I was amazed by what a difference even a pair of binoculars makes. I think perhaps there may be an amateur telescope in my future. For now, though, we keep looking for a travel-size star chart we can consult during the next few weeks at camp.

No biking today <br/> (back-dated entry)

We’re here at Bauline East finishing up a light lunch before we embark on a boat tour to see puffins and whales. Today is a bike rest day; we just hiked up to this town from La Manche Provincial Park. We were able to get a sweet camping spot there, and last night I saw the sky mottled with stars as I never have before. It was humbling.

We’ll probably head over to St. John’s tomorrow.

I’m here at the Irish Loop Coffee House in Witless Bay, Newfoundland, on a slow dial-up Internet connection. It’s been hard to get Internet or cell phone access— and Newfoundland is keeping us quite busy.

In the few days we’ve been here we’ve encountered fog and rain and steep hills(our first day coming in from the ferry), sunshine and flat bogs (since then, mostly), and native hospitality (a family invited us in for breakfast at Branch). Breathtaking views everywhere! We’ve been to Cape St. Mary’s, a bird sanctuary on the cliffs where migratory birds nest; truly a memorable site. The towns that appear on the map are often no more than a few houses; we count ourselves lucky if there are convenience stores or restaurants.

Right now we’ve finished cutting across to the Eastern side of the Avalon Peninsula. We plan to camp at La Manche Provincial Park for a couple of nights, before heading north to St. John’s, which promises to be the big city around here where we should be able to tune our bikes, do some laundry, and maybe blog a bit more.

More updates to follow when we get more, faster Internet access (St. John’s, I would think.)

St. Mary’s Ecological Reserve

The biking from St. Bride’s to Cape St. Mary’s was mostly flat, a long stretch of road through a tundra mottled with squat trees and bog, the mountains in the background. Upon arriving at the visitor’s center we looked out from the observation deck, and there they were, a white sea of birds on the cliff about a mile away.

After we walked through the exhibits, trying to memorize the distinctive markings of each bird, we embarked on the trail to the cliff’s edge. What an experience! Everything quiet and picturesque until we turned the final corner, and then the shrill cacophony of birds accompanied by the smell of guano and fish. We were standing on the edge of a 100m-long cliff, just a few feet away from the Bird Rock where black-legged kittiwakes, cormorants, gulls, thick-billed murres, common murres, razor-billed auks, northern gannets, and black guillemots nested. Most visible were the gannets on the top of the rock, and we could see through the binoculars the parents caring for their young, which had at this point grown quite large but still had their newborn down.

We returned to the main road and had a late lunch at the RV park/restaurant there. We fetched our gear from the hotel at St. Bride’s and returned to set up camp at the RV park. Not a lot of net distance covered, but the time spent looking at birds was well worth it.

Argentia to St. Bride’s

So it begins: we set foot on Newfoundland today. We arrived disembarked the ferry at Argentia, said good-bye to our traveling companions, and took off. People kept talking about the big hill leaving the ferry terminal, but that wasn’t so bad. What was bad were practically all the hills that followed. The road from Argentia to St. Bride goes from one cove to another, so it’s up and down over and over. Both Knox and I had to push our bikes up a few of those hills.

To make matters worse, the weather did not cooperate: it was foggy all day, particularly on the hills. There’s nothing like laboring uphill into a fog bank, not being able to see five feet in front of you, and then careening downhill equally blind. Moreover, what started out as a light mist, calling for my light jacket, turned into heavy rain at times. We were both soaked.

Less than ideal conditions for biking, to be sure, but they made for an even more dramatic view from the road. Not even a full day here and already we’re in love with Newfoundland!

We stopped for breakfast in Placentia, a lovely little town with a boardwalk and a drawbridge, and decided to spend the night in St. Bride’s in an efficiency unit at the Capeway Motel, an impeccably clean little establishment.