We’ve now got about 800 miles under our wheels since we set off from Newark last Saturday morning.
Photos – uh, right. Well, we picked up a case of fog camping in the Camden Hills, and only managed to finally shake it as we pulled up in Moncton, way out at the tip of the Bay of Fundy. Fog at the top of Mount Battie, fog at Ocean Lookout. Fog in Bar Harbor and down to the tip of Acadia National Park. Fog up to the bridge at Lubec, the northeasternmost point in the United States. Not that it wasn’t pretty as all get-out, but we couldn’t see much beyond the road ahead of us until we crossed over into Canada at Campobello Island.
And there was plenty of entertainment along the way: the giant blueberries (actually steel marine floats and a painted geodesic dome) of Wild Blueberryland, the Bad Little Falls of Machias and, of course, oversized fiberglass lobsters everywhere you turned.
But something changed when we crossed over that bridge into the land of cheerful and efficient civic service: the fog (perhaps, sensing that it had overstepped propriety), backed off, and as we island-hopped the adorable little ferries from Campobello to Deer Island to the New Brunswick mainland, it just slowly, undramatically, retreated into the background.
It was a bit of a surprise to find ourselves on the mainland, and we made a snap decision to bolt eastward, to Moncton, at the head of the Bay of Fundy. The coast of New Brunswick (motto: “Please Don’t Call Us the ‘Drive Through’ Province”) holds many wonders, but, well, uh, yeah. Sorry.
Devon, who’s got her own improbably Devonverse thing going these days. We decided that we were going to grab a room for the night, rather than camp, and rolled up to the place she’d picked out online. A bunch of people were gathering on the walkway overlooking the river below, and my spidey-sense flicked on: something’s about to happen!
Under the walkway a fellow on a surfboard was riding the muddy water out to sea. Oh, hey – I know what’s going on. I’d read about Moncton’s tidal bore: the river reverses with one solid wave that comes up from the bay, and this guy was gonna surf it. The reversal thing happens twice a day, but apparently, the surf thing not so often, so a lot of folks were excited to watch.
Honestly, it wasn’t a spectacular wave to surf, but damned if it didn’t just come right up the river and carry the guy out of sight. An hour later, the water had risen something like 20 feet, right up to the top of its bank.
Today we’re headed for Hopewell Rocks, the iconic 40-foot tides at the tip of the Bay of Fundy, then up to Prince Edward Island to poke our noses into the whole Anne-of-Green-Gables thing. Stay tuned!