Oh Cape
Breton Island, how beautiful you are. Sadly, your breath taking landscapes are
almost unobtainable for those wishing to stay permanently. As with P.E.I. it
seems as though this captivating island runs solely on tourism and fishing. The
hills tower over the small towns and roads nestled among them. True forests
with enchantingly old trees and thick underbrush, untouched by man, surround
the sleepy little communities. This effect makes them seem so insignificant. A
short drive will show you dozens of beautiful, sad homes, waiting for new
people to breathe life into them again. All is not as it seems though. Behind
the curtain lies more than two hundred years of rich history, full hope,
hardship, prosperity, and culture. We consider ourselves lucky to have been
given this opportunity to experience a fraction of what the East Coast of Nova
Scotia has to offer.
Our journey
on the Cabot Trail started after our departure from the Alexander Graham Bell
museum. The road winds around the west side of the beautiful Bras d’or lake,
Canada’s only inland Sea. This lovely salt water lake captured the hearts of
Mr. Bell and countless others who chose to call this region home. In the top
corner of our road map, are a few simple words saying, “Cape Breton Island,
your heart will never leave”. After watching the sailboats glide across the
sparkling water that morning, I was starting to understand the allure. Our trek
up the mountain however, was not as peaceful. The roads seemed to be treating
us like unwelcomed guests. After
living on flat ground for so long, the constant aggressive turns and steep
inclines and declines around the face of a mountain had me starting to change
my mind. What would doubtless be a very enjoyable drive in a small
vehicle; suddenly seemed frightening in a 30 ft. motorhome. I was thankful that
my husband was driving, but at the same time, being in the passenger seat
during that stretch almost succeeded in convincing me that I was afraid of
heights. We made it to the campground and set up with a glass of rye to soothe
our nerves. We had decided to stay for four nights, so that we could explore
the trails and beach as well as relax and catch up on the never ending chore
that is laundry.
We started
by trying to find the laundry building, which according to our map, was
directly across the road from us. By laundry, it turns out that they meant 4
laundry tubs with one plug to share among them. Oh and good luck trying to dry
your laundry on a site without trees. I try to be good and not complain much,
but having to wash a week’s worth of laundry for six people by hand with
children underfoot and only a bike rack and ladder to hang it on, was not my
favourite partt of the trip. Well, that’s enough about laundry though as I
could bitch about it for hours.
While
staying at the various campgrounds, we tend strike up conversations with our
neighbours. This time we quickly became acquainted with a couple and their
young son, who were visiting from Austria, and hoping to stay. Despite the
language barrier, Hunter and their son Noah hit it off really well. So well in
fact, that they extended their stay for an extra night, so that he would have
someone to play with. Their English was quite good and so we enjoyed each
other’s company, conversation and campfire. We exchanged emails and I vowed to
attempt to learn German. Bring it on Rosetta Stone! Other notable people that
we met were a couple behind us from Hamilton, who my husband would like to
mention, as they got along well talking about fishing. We also encountered a
couple who were taking their pet parrot and parakeet for a walk.
Upon entry
of the national park, we received our third explorer’s book, which was
difficult for us to complete, as we didn’t do the entire Cabot Trail. One of
the activities was to explore the beach. We all eagerly ventures down to the
beach, which was absolutely beautiful, then to find it littered with rotting
kelp. The smell was so awful and over powering, that we didn’t stay long to
admire the beauty of the ocean. The next day, we took a hiking trail to Warren
Lake, which is nicely hidden off the main road. I think that I speak for our
whole family when I say that I wish we could have spent a whole day there. Even
Autumn loved playing with the sand and rocks. What a treasure that we found,
after being put off by the smell at the campground beach.
We were
eager to leave the next morning, but not to do that drive again. Knowing what
was in store, we braced ourselves and began. What a difference it made being on
the other side of the road and knowing what to expect. We loved it, what a
view. Part of me longed to stay for one more night on the trail, but I was
really looking forward to our day trip…
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