We awoke this morning to the sound of a hundred birdsongs. Unfortunately, I cannot distinguish which birds are singing which songs; but with the sun shining, a solid blue sky, and the birdsongs, it felt like paradise. We left Trout River about 10:00 a.m., took one last look at Woody Point, picked up our “hiker’s pak” for lunch from the Granite Café (what a great idea, I don’t know why more of the B & Bs don’t do this), and set off on our drive for Cape Onion. We passed along side the ocean most of the way, but the land was pretty desolate. The Long Range Mountains were off in the distance, but the flat land by the side of the ocean was windy ocean barrens. As in other parts the coast is dotted with small fishing communities where all the white rectangular homes are within view of the ocean, the fishing boats fill the harbours, and the fish houses line the wharves.
On the way we stopped at Port aux Choix (population about 1000) to see the national historic site which preserves a Maritime Archaic Indian site and a Dorset and Groswater Eskimo community. This is all housed on a wind swept peninsula which we traveled to the end to see the Riche Point lighthouses. I must count up the number of lighthouses we have seen – must have been 15 to 20 – and each one is different in colouring and style as well as sounding a different sequence of blasts on the fog horn, all in an effort to identify their location to the ships in the treacherous seas around them.
On the way up the northern peninsula we also noted the huge piles of firewood lying by the side of the road. Apparently the people are given a licence by the government to cut firewood which they drag out of the boreal forests in the winter time on sleds drawn by snowmobiles and which lies at the side of the road with a prominent number on the pile to let everyone know who it belongs to. Another roadside anomaly, are the allotments, or vegetable plots. When the roads where made in the 1970s, the peat was piled by the side of the roads. Consequently, the road sides are some of the most badly needed fertile land and the people established their gardens there. You don’t see many gardens around the houses. Mainly just grass and trees. Oh, and one other thing. Along certain parts of the road are high poles – we couldn’t figure them out – but, they are to mark the roads in the winter snow falls. They must be at least 6 – 8 feet tall – so you can imagine the depth of the snow!
Around 6:00 p.m we rounded the corner on route 427 and the road came to an abrupt end – at the ocean. The Tickle Inn sits on the ocean shore to the left of the road. It is an idyllic setting. The house has been in the Adams family since it was built around 1890. It has been added on to, and restored over the years, but it is quite magnificent. The owners, David and Barbara run the B & B. They are a delightful couple and make all their guests feel as if they are truly guests as opposed to patrons. They cooked a marvelous meal and when all that was over, and after we had an evening walk, sang the “Ode to Newfoundland”, and then retired to bed to the sound of the ocean waves.
On the way we stopped at Port aux Choix (population about 1000) to see the national historic site which preserves a Maritime Archaic Indian site and a Dorset and Groswater Eskimo community. This is all housed on a wind swept peninsula which we traveled to the end to see the Riche Point lighthouses. I must count up the number of lighthouses we have seen – must have been 15 to 20 – and each one is different in colouring and style as well as sounding a different sequence of blasts on the fog horn, all in an effort to identify their location to the ships in the treacherous seas around them.
On the way up the northern peninsula we also noted the huge piles of firewood lying by the side of the road. Apparently the people are given a licence by the government to cut firewood which they drag out of the boreal forests in the winter time on sleds drawn by snowmobiles and which lies at the side of the road with a prominent number on the pile to let everyone know who it belongs to. Another roadside anomaly, are the allotments, or vegetable plots. When the roads where made in the 1970s, the peat was piled by the side of the roads. Consequently, the road sides are some of the most badly needed fertile land and the people established their gardens there. You don’t see many gardens around the houses. Mainly just grass and trees. Oh, and one other thing. Along certain parts of the road are high poles – we couldn’t figure them out – but, they are to mark the roads in the winter snow falls. They must be at least 6 – 8 feet tall – so you can imagine the depth of the snow!
Around 6:00 p.m we rounded the corner on route 427 and the road came to an abrupt end – at the ocean. The Tickle Inn sits on the ocean shore to the left of the road. It is an idyllic setting. The house has been in the Adams family since it was built around 1890. It has been added on to, and restored over the years, but it is quite magnificent. The owners, David and Barbara run the B & B. They are a delightful couple and make all their guests feel as if they are truly guests as opposed to patrons. They cooked a marvelous meal and when all that was over, and after we had an evening walk, sang the “Ode to Newfoundland”, and then retired to bed to the sound of the ocean waves.
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