BMW K1200, K1300, and K1600 Forum banner

1 - 1 of 1 Posts

·
Registered
Joined
·
146 Posts
Discussion Starter #1 (Edited)
Nova Scotia is a legendary, fantastic piece of land that is filled with natural delight. I can't tell you why I chose to go there; simply the land was calling my name. Embarking upon the ferry from Bar Harbor, Maine to Yarmouth, I found I was not alone. There were some 15-20 bikers that felt the same way. Although I later found there was a large bike rally in Digby on the north coast, I never graced it. Instead I parted ways with most everyone, favoring the southern Lighthouse Route on my way to Kejimkujik National Park for a night of camping I would soon forget. For after stoking up a hot fire at my campsite, I simply can't recall what happened. I found myself wandering in the woods with a significant span of time elapsed. After finding my way back to camp by light of cell phone, the fire was completely out. I can't explain where I had been... All I knew is that this place had been frequented by UFOs since the famous 1967 Shag Harbor UFO incident. Whatever magic was being weaved around me took little time to warm up.

I took a reprieve halfway in Halifax, finding myself at once in a proper and civilized cosmopolitan habitat. Friends were found in every pub, as well as every nook of shoreway. A very warm concierge staff at the Haliburton House provided my every wish and comfort. This is by far the most recommendable place to stay in Halifax. I traded two wheels for two feet, and found almost every corner of the city. Amazed by the plethora and variety of things to do in this aged port, touring North America's oldest brewery, scouting out the Naval Citadel, I puctuated the rich nightlife amongst smoke and ales from some of the friendliest people I'd ever met.

Once I shook off the party's haze, I rode a brisk highway to Cape Breton Island, my ultimate destination. A land as such can only truly be described as God's country. A most gorgeous, breathtaking ride along the mountainous coastline was my reward for enduring the elements along the way. I set tent at Cheticamp, and finally found stars above my head at night. The morning was not as nice, bringing rain onto the Cabot Trail. No matter, as I literally found myself riding in the clouds at the top of mountains. With visibily measured in meters, I crept along the trail with flashers and main beam on. Spotting a local fishery about half way, I stopped for fish and chips and to dry out. Amazingly, the weather let up a shade. Now overcast, the sky lent an erie flavor to the island expedition. I set up camp at the end of the trail in Ingonish, and was sung to sleep by thunderstorms, but not before exploring the coarse red beaches of the North Atlantic. The morning was kissed by the sun, and blue skies in the direction of Prince Edward Island, my next destination. Pulling up to the last ferry just as it left the dock, I literally watched as the first wake appeared between the stern of the boat and the dock... time for plan B it seemed. I sped through farmlands of New Brunswick straight into the worst storm I've ever encountered. As I rode further, mother nature magnified and hastened. As I approached the 25km bridge that led to the island, the trees bent sideways in the wind, and the downpour soaked through my raingear chilling me to the bone. Arghh... the bridge was closed, I thought, as I was waved to the side of the road....

I spent an hour with fellow riders waiting for the weather to "calm down" enough to cross. "Calm" was not the word to describe the weather as I was finally permitted to ride white knuckled across 25Km of the brutal Atlantic, pelted by wind and storm, high atop a narrow two lane bridge. Three quarters of the way across, the sky parted, and the sun shone upon the shores of PEI! I rode to the north shore as the sun set and found shelter along the beach, where a very cordial park ranger helped me get a hot fire going to dry out and warm my bones. "After Labor Day" is apparantly "After Season" in PEI, so I had the whole campground and nearly the whole of Charlottetown to myself. What a peaceful way to wind down such an adventurous journey! Sung to sleep by the waves of the coast... I never wanted to find my way home again....




 
1 - 1 of 1 Posts
Top