Head for the Hills! (Better late than never, I guess)

It's been a long time...I know, but with the pandemic and all, there really hasn't been a lot to report. Happily, as restrictions loosen and the two of us are fully vaccinated, we were ready to head off on another adventure.

We've long talked about the Mount Carleton region of New Brunswick, at least amongst ourselves, as it has some true mountains to hike, a couple of really quaint towns and, of course, ridiculously charming little villages in between. That you can follow the Acadian peninsula and enjoy water views, as well, only added to the appeal.

 

With all that temptation, we rented a car, packed our bags and took our out of shape hiking legs north to the very edge of the New Brunswick/Quebec border.

Mount Carleton is a national park, situated in the middle of the northern part of the province. It's remote enough that you can only pay your park entry fee in cash and cell service is definitely spotty. (Consider that a warning, especially if you're planning on hiking around the mountains.) This area is where the Appalachian mountains start (or end, depending on your perspective) and is fairly remote, despite the little towns scattered around the coast and inland. 

 

The park, itself, offers camping, lakes, hiking and biking trails. We opted for a self-catered B&B 22kms from the park entrance, called Bed and Breakfast Du Repos . It was the perfect little hideaway for us to recoup after a days hiking, as it had a small kitchenette, comfy bed and all the fixings for breakfast (and trail snacks) that we needed. 

We were careful about selecting our first mountain trail, as we'd been out of the game for a while. We tackled Mount Bailey first. At 564m (1850ft) it boasted great views and moderately challenging climbs. The weather wasn't ideal, in that it had rained a good part of the day before and through the night, so the trees were wet and the wind blew, cascading down drops despite the tree cover. The views weren't disappointing, the forest soothing and our legs, not so out of shape that we wanted to quit half way up, so it was a win-win.

A bucolic flat stretch

The clouds won't keep us down

The following day, we decided to summit the highest peak in the Maritimes and the namesake of the Park, Mount Carleton. (It's 820m (2,690ft) at it's peak, and also is home to an old forest fire watch tower. On a clear day, you can see over 10,000,000 trees, according to the park's literature. The weather was more favourable on the hike up and we were lulled into a bout of confidence, as the trail was fairly easy to negotiate, with only a bit of hard boulder scrambling at the last stretch. As we neared the peak, the wind came up and blew in a rather haunting cloud cover and we quickly lost sight of the vast expanse of forest that surrounds the mountain. The tower loomed up out of the mist and provided a haven from the wind, where we sat down to enjoy a brief lunch, before heading back down the other side of the hiking loop. The trail had lovely little creeks at the beginning with heaps of moss covered stones, fallen trees, draping over the waterways and other enjoyable nature-y scenes that would please most any outdoors person. There was some scree on the back side of the mountain, heading back down, making me feel like I was walking under the influence, but it was definitely an enjoyable hike all-round. At the end of the day, we took ourselves off to Edmundston for dinner out and to check out the town. It has quite a pretty downtown, but when the paper mill is in operation, the noise can be off putting. It didn't disrupt our dinner and we enjoyed a nice drive through the rolling foothills on the way back.

Easy entry to the trail

10,000,000 Trees

Getting close to the summit

 

Our final day, we broached the hardest climb on our agenda - Mount Sagamook. While it isn't quite as high as Mount Carleton, the hike up was steep, technical and occasionally, daunting. There is a lookout, 300m before the summit (again, depending on how you hike the loop) which wasn't terribly well marked and required a bit of bush whacking through the forest to get to the rock outcrop that over looks the park, with it's lake and a charming little heart shaped island. The pinnacle was underwhelming after the great views of the lookout, but provided a spot in the sun for a well deserved drink of water and snack. The descent was more challenging than anticipated, but we were glad we took the park attendant's advice and hiked up the short (harder) path and then down the longer, less steep path. At the very end (or start) depending on which way you choose to go, there is a lovely mossy little brook that provided us with a magical little pause at the end of all our hard work. 

Hard scrabble up boulders

Happy to reach the look out

Enjoying the view

 

The next day we packed up and took a scenic drive to Campbellton and along the Acadian peninsula. We stopped for lunch in Mirimichi, at an Irish pub. (Mirimichi is the Irish capitol of New Brunswick, so says their welcome sign.) The weather turned once again and we found ourselves driving with the windshield wipers slapping frantically to clear the rain. We settled back home and tried to decide what to do with ourselves the next day. Ron had finally worn out his hiking boots (the sole separated from the upper) so we planned to search for a new pair. Once obtained (a pair of Merills), we decided to try them out in Fundy National Park. We just couldn't let the opportunity pass us by.

We drove the 1.5 hours to Alma, a cute little sea town that borders the park and enjoyed lunch at Tipsy Tails (I didn't make up the name, I swear!) and then headed into the park to do a 3-4 hour hike to the largest waterfalls in the area. The trail was mostly down hill and not terribly difficult until the end, where we had to wade along the stream to reach the beach below the falls. It was well worth the effort and Ron's new boots proved a good choice. We were surprised to find ourselves back at the car just 2 hours later. Our Mount Carleton experiences must have put some pep in our step. 

Going down just mean climbing up

It was a delightful distraction and slight return to normalcy after a very strange year and a half. Who knows what we'll get ourselves up to next time? (Maybe nowhere, if the international community doesn't figure out all this vaccine stuff.)

Ron's Big Dinner

Milestone birthdays are a bit strange. What makes it a milestone? Every year is the only year we'll be that particular age, so why is one year any different from the others? I think it's a legitimate question and yet, I acknowledge that we still mark certain ages as more noteworthy than others.

Wicked tall wine glasses are gifts

We were supposed to be travelling in South East Asia this year, as we've got a whole host of "important" dates...we like to call it our "big year", but then we relocated to New Brunswick and there's the whole COVID-19 thing happening, so here we are in Moncton, watching our hair grow and the grass get greener and generally contemplating our navel lint. It seems that our big year is going to be a big bust, but I refuse to surrender...yet.

Masks from friends

Because I have so much time on my hands, and one of the way's I show love is to cook, I started imagining Ron's perfect dinner, not his death row meal, but a meal that would incorporate as much of his favourite foods as possible and how to make it all special. The result? Ron's Almost Perfect 8 Course Dinner.

What was the craziest part? I decided I'd actually execute it. I don't think a general has ever gone into a battle more prepared than I, to tackle this challenge. And I actually pulled it off. Was everything perfect? Heaven's no, but it was all really good, the plating was attractive and the hot food was hot and the cold food not. (Yes, I'm giving myself a bit of a pat on the back.) I think he enjoyed it, as did our friends and we certainly enjoyed having a bit of company, now that some of the restrictions have been lifted.

Without further ado, the meal (missing is the cheese plate as we just forgot to take the picture):

Roasted pepper and smoked gouda

Smoked salmon with capers

Pan seared scallops with crispy onion and
lemon chicken broth

Red pepper bisque

Spring salad with  caramelized onion dressing

Mango sorbet

Roast lamb with mash and roast veg

Lemon tart, chocolate pate and
raspberry mousse

Most of it came off really well, and the few problems were dealt with and no one was the wiser. Did I mention we did wine pairings? Oh, hell yes. (I lost my mind, somewhere in the planning, but except for one wine, (a rose with the salad I switched from a citrus dressing to onion and apple cider vinegar...oops) it was paired fairly nicely. I might try it again, but no time soon. The planning took well over a month, but that's why "self-isolation" worked, in this case. So, happy birthday, dearest. Glad you enjoyed the culinary adventure.

This Old House

I gotta tell you...Ron gets a bee in his bonnet quite frequently. He's a bit like a British Bulldog that's bitten something and doesn't want to let go. He did it with the paneling on the sun porch, he's done it with numerous other things in the past.

I'll give him his due: it almost always pans out. The paneling came off the sun porch fairly easily and only a small part of the wood siding underneath needed repair. The porch looks so much better now that it's the same colour as the exterior of the house.

His newest "project" was to strip off the paint from the hinges, door knobs and locks that we have in the house. We noticed that they seem to be engraved or had some sort of filigree, but the detail was buried under 100 years of paint. He found a video that said all we really had to do was simmer the pieces in hot water and baking soda to get the majority of the paint off.

It can't be that simple, right? Well, actually it was. Sure we needed to pick out some tight spots and brush and scrub a bit, but the majority of the paint lifted right off. We're left with some pretty amazing hinges that strangely don't match...one side has one style and the other side has another. Quirky.

The set on our dining room door is stamped April 3 1877, Pat B. (Patent reference, or manufacturer? Not clear, but patents usually have a number assigned, no?) So, a bit of scrubbing with steel wool, sanding and rubbing with alcohol, some goo gone and a bit of mineral oil later and we have clean hinges of indeterminate metal type. We're pleased, and really, that's the payoff, right?

It's been a pretty cool exercise and no one else might notice, but we love the hardware!

Ghosts and Ghoulies - the return of Halloween

We were trying to figure out when the last time we were truly required to prepare for Halloween because of trick or treators. It seems the last time we could expect kids at the door was October of 2002. Yup...17 years ago. So weird, right? That's the joy of condo living!

I confess to liking Halloween; the chance to dress up (be something I'm not! So awesome), the spine tingles of scary stories, the eternal promise of free candy (at least when I was a kid).  I even loved the other side of it. Seeing the kids in costumes, handing out candy, quite smugly closing the door on freezing/drenched parents and returning to the comfort of my heated house, as they escorted their kids from door to door, once I'd given out the treats. 

So here we are again. Back on Treat Street. We've bought and carved the pumpkins, applied liberal amounts of spider webs to the front porch, bought enough candy for over 50 kids. (I'm hoping there will be some left over, to be sure.)

So here's to Halloween, the ghosts and ghouls, princesses and knights. Hope your night was SPOOK-tacular.

Is the Tide a Bore?

This is a little ancillary post to the Hopewell Rocks one. Moncton is situated on a tidal river, fed from the Bay of Fundy, where those great tide changes happen.

Once the tidal bore has passed, but the river is still filling up quickly!

Little did we know that twice a day the river gets flooded with ocean water that creates this thing called a tidal bore. For those not familiar with this, it's a single wave that is created by the pure volume of sea water coming through a narrow opening in the river.

The tidal bore that enters up the Petitcodiac River is strong enough for the brave to surf, which is pretty impressive. Where can you see this spectacle? From Tidal Bore park...simple and to the point, East Coast practicality, especially in naming things, is a beautiful thing. Pro tip: head down past the first couple viewing stations towards Dieppe to get the first view and to double down on the fun, stand on the pedestrian bridge and see the tidal bore and the feeder river fill up at the same time.

The things that surprised me the most was the sound, almost like a slow grinder milling up the coast line. I saw the bore before I heard it, but the sound was definitely unique and louder than one would anticipate.

Add this to your list of things to do in Moncton while here. There's an excellent schedule available at https://tidalboretimes.ca/ . The best times (so we've been advised) to see the bore is on the new moon, closely followed by the full moon. If you can hit it during a super moon, then all the better.

Highs and Lows of Hopewell Rocks

Even the very best of Canadians don't know all the amazing sights that our huge country has to offer. I knew about the amazing tidal flows in the Bay of Fundy from about the age of 11 or so, but never truly appreciated the enormity of a waterline that can rise up to 16 metres (that's 50 feet for you United States-ers) in a matter of hours. You can walk on the ocean floor, where in a few hours, people will be kayaking well above your head.

For more information, visit the Hopewell Rocks website, or just enjoy our pictures. We were there in the heart of tourist season and there were a lot (!!!) of people. Waiting to get the right shot was occasionally painful, as the social media generation has taken over and the "perfect photo" requires many...many...many attempts. One guy went back 11 times in a 20 minute period. In truly Canadian fashion, there was a line to get a photo in an opening and he went back over and over again, to the point that most of the people on the viewing platform were having a good laugh at his expense. I guess he had his reasons.

Once the tide started to come in, we headed up to watch the spectacle. It didn't seem like the water was coming in quickly, but all of a sudden the beach we'd walked on in the distance disappeared and then the midrange beach was under water and a half hour later the whole thing was underwater. The tide rose 12 metres (@40 feet) in under 2 hours. Wow!

The whole family had a good time, but I have to give credit where credit is due...Ron took almost every picture and is responsible for the amazing photos. If you're in the area, it's a great place to visit. Families get in for $25.50, and adults are $10. The entry is good for two days, which is pretty sweet, if you're staying in the area. Parking is free.