Song of the sea
Caresses the shore
Soothes my soul
Sends me off to slumbers
Sun teases horizon
Gulls cry the morning’s alarm
Warm pastels ignite the clouds
Below wan blue skies
And I
Wakened from deep repose
Welcome another day
Of adventure in unfamiliar lands
9:25PM, August 20, 2023 :: Keltic Lodge, Cape Breton Highlands National Park, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada
A man with a guitar and a good, traditional folk voice plays a variety of songs I might expect, though most I’ve never heard before. Still, the Gordon Lightfoot, Valdy and George Harrison were lovely, as have all the songs I’ve never heard before.
I have to admit, I’m not listening all that closely, sitting on an overstuffed couch in the Keltic Lodge’s lounge. I can’t see him, either, since there’s a pillar obscuring the view.
However, I have power and WiFi here, and those have been in short supply the last few days, especially the power. The battery in the trailer hasn’t had a full charge since leaving Prince Edward Island, and the last couple days I haven’t driven enough to make up for the consumption of the various devices I use daily. So, I’m hovering on the edge of not being able to power the fridge. To keep it going I’ve limited charging phone, computer, batteries.
Limiting the charging means I have to limit the use, especially the power hungry laptop, which is why today’s post is coming later in the day than I’d like, and why I’ll have a hard time posting tomorrow’s Pic and a Word Challenge in a timely manner. The lounge is only open ’til 11PM and it’s now 10:39.
This has definitely been a journey of learning. I look at this photo and think of a couple of things. First: I’m trying to stop for the night before it’s actually night. I didn’t quite make it the night this photo was taken a few days ago. Late arrivals don’t leave any time to enjoy (and photograph) the location with decent light. And while I’ve got light, cooking (and eating) in the dark isn’t a lot of fun, especially with all the mosquitoes and other biting insects that come out as the sun sets.
Aside from that little logistical shortcoming, what I also register is the fact that nearly everything I hold dear is in that rig: cameras and lenses, computer and hard drives loaded with words and photographs, my bicycle, that beat-up but still remarkably reliable, Toyota Rav4.
The teardrop I haven’t made up my mind about. On the one hand, teardropping is hella better than car camping. Quick to setup and breakdown, and I can park it for the night in all kinds of places (for free) that a tent just won’t work. Huge bonus: a thick memory foam double sized mattress. No leaky and too-thin air mattresses on hard, rocky uneven ground. No crouching to clamber/crawl in and out of a soggy tent flap. I really can’t stress what a huge bonus this is.
But as a long-term solution for getting both off-grid and mobile, it’s probably not the answer. I still haven’t figured out a way to be comfortable hanging out if the weather (or the biting insects) are being disagreeable. The trailer’s sleeping area has served on such occasions, but only because there were no other options. It’s fine for lying down, but sitting up just doesn’t quite work.
A better option for this would be a Campervan or Class C Camper, but those consume a fair bit more fuel than the RAV4, even when it’s pulling a 1,200 pound trailer. That may work for future trips, but this one needed to cover long distances in a short time, so fuel economy was a big consideration.
So in the meantime I suppose I’ll have to add some sort of cover to lounge under. I just haven’t decided what form that cover should take. Pop-up tent with mosquito screens? Or just a tarp stretched over a comfortable space? I’ve seen both these work for others. Or maybe something else altogether?
Hmmmm… I don’t have an answer yet. Need to come up with one soon. I’m beginning to find a groove in this teardropping thing. Maybe the answer will make itself clear with a bit more groove?
4:42PM, August 18, 2023 :: Tim Horton’s, Port Hawksbury, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada
Teardropper’s note to self:
Weather radar is a thing. Use it, preferably before departure, so you’ll know to let the storm move ahead of you, rather than drive for 5 hours in the thick of it. Especially when your teardrop trailer is watertight when stationary, but a tich leaky around the doors when underway. The leaks aren’t too bothersome in a light rain, but under a deluge…. well, it could have been quite unpleasant.
Fortunately, the four shammy towels I’d stuffed around the door bases managed to suck up the bulk of the water. (I squeezed out about a quart of water from them upon arriving in Port Hawksbury.) I’d bought the shammies over a month ago in Montreal for leaks I was having in the galley, but never needed them because it didn’t rain again before I fixed those leaks. It was even on my mind to return them. Thankfully, without any foresight of my own, I hadn’t.
And thank you so much, Ann L’Italien, for the brilliant gift of a waterproof mattress cover. The soaked shammies were right up against it, and the cover no doubt saved the shammies from transferring water to the nearly equally absorbent foam mattress. <mwah!>
Tonight will be a much more comfortable sleep for these two mitigating conditions.
Unfortunately, though there was some great coastal scenery, the rain was just too hard for the Fuji. Too much rain on the lens. Even trying to frame with the phone was pretty challenging, but I managed to get a few shots in the few stops I made, getting absolutely soaked at this one and a couple others.
In the feature photo, that’s not mist or fog obscuring the distant point and fuzzing the car’s headlights on the highway. That’s rain. My raincoat, shorts and hat can assure you that I was getting hammered by it. It’s fascinating that rain isn’t apparent on photographs up close unless you shoot with a pretty high shutter speed, or the rain is backlit.
Lessons learned, and disaster averted by a little luck and and a thoughtful gift. Despite the weather, not such a bad day as much of the scenery was quite spectacular, indeed, due in part to the weather.
Time to roll off and find a camp spot, and hope the ….
…hmmm, looking at the weather radar, the light rain outside is the leading edge of another storm cell coming through. There are some nasty colours in it. Looks like it’ll pass through this area by 7PM, an hour and a half from now as I type this.
Maybe another cuppa, and another blog post??
I’m learning. 🙂
9:00AM, Mutton Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada
I think the last sunset I saw on a horizon not entirely occluded by clouds (or under assault by squadrons of mosquitoes), was in St. John, a couple of weeks ago. Here, in Mutton Cove, Nova Scotia, it was a luxury to photograph the sunset, then sit outside comfortably for a meal. Even better, and for the first time on this trip, I sat outside to compose a blog post (yesterday’s Serpentine).
This morning, the day broke cloudy, but the sun soon made its appearance through scattered broken clouds, while a light onshore breeze has kept all the biting insects at bay. So after some breakfast and conversation with Vincent, who shared the parking lot with me last night, I find myself lingering, just a little longer than I’d intended, to enjoy the peace of the morning and watch some locals launch their small boat into the bay as the tide comes.
The tide rises so quickly here at this far end of Nova Scotia’s Bay of Fundy, (I’m watching it inch its way up the beach, little steps with every wavelet) you don’t bother backing the boat all the way into the water. Rather, just gently lower it onto the shore ahead of the advancing sea. You’ll have about enough time to bring your tow rig and trailer back above the tide, then walk back to the boat and clamber in before the ocean rises enough to lift you off the bottom.
They’ve paddled a little further offshore, to deeper water, and started their engine. Now heading off to some hopefully lucky fishing spot in the bay. And I think, too, I’ve lingered long enough. Pack up and off to Halifax. Perhaps a cycle along the way.
I came for sunrise
Woke early for
Golden hour glory
Instead, the fog
Cast a shroud
A pall upon the morning
Patience
The sun will out
And so it did
A moment, perhaps
More glorious
Than the moment sought
Expectation
Patience
Adaptation
I drive past the sign with a chuckle. Then realize I need to turn back for this photograph.
It occurred to me some time ago that paradise is not a place on a map, but a state of being. For me, it seems obvious, that state of being involves movement… though, often, a metaphorical interpretation works just fine.
Me: Hey Google, avoid highways.
Google: OK. Avoiding highways.
Me: WTF Google!?
Me… again: Google, avoid dirt roads.
Google: I do not understand that request.
Me: Mmmfph.
Sometimes
I am reminded
The best path
Is not always direct
The best place
Is not always familiar
The best means
Is not always expedient
Sometimes
A leisurely pace
Into the unknown
Offers the surest road
To a cherished end
As yet unidentified
Some places draw me in
With the embrace of an old friend
Not seen in far too long
Fabled Streets
Of San Francisco
Car chases
And cable cars
In nineteen hundred and ninety six
I take my 5th wheel down Powell
Forty-five feet of feelin’ cooler than
McQueen, Cage and Connery
Past the bottom
The truck’s brakes fail
So I drive the city streets
Using the trailer’s brakes
Impressing a parallel trucker
“You’re one of us,” he tells me
Eat your hearts out
Movie stars
Pix to Words 