The Nomads

Triple Falls Campground
Near St Anthony Nfld
Sunny and clear!


Funny how things turn out sometimes; if we knew what was coming at us around the corner, we wouldn’t get out of bed some mornings!
Today’s plan was a morning in St Anthony and the afternoon in Anse aux Meadows.
We got to St Anthony around ten and toured the town, then went on out to the end of town to Fish Point, a 550 foot promontory overlooking the town and harbour as well as Great Brehat, Little Brehat and St Anthony’s Bight. It was quite a climb but well worth the effort, the 3600 view was amazing if you could stand upright in the wind! We had a hard time getting pics because the wind was gusty and pushy, a lot of shots were out of focus even if taken propped on the ground or on a post or rock…..!
Imagine our surprise when we got back to the bottom and the wind was still blowing us around. The drive towards Anse aux Meadows was interesting. We just nicely got turned of the 430 and headed to Anse aux Meadows(this was to be a highlight of our trip) and we ran into road construction! Large truckloads of new chip-seal gravel being levelled for the next 17 kms! I wasn’t giving up that easy. I know touring tires won’t handle that kind of thing, at least not without a fight and a tumble or two, but I’d come a long way to see that place and I was determined to go until I got there or bogged down trying. That point took about 10 kilometres to get to! We wobbled and struggled and weaved and came really close to toppling at least twenty or thirty times, mostly when trying to avoid the large trucks going back and forth with the crushed rock but we finally came to a spot where the crush was loose and about four/five inches deep and the tires sank and dug in! We still had another ten or so kilometres to go but couldn’t move ahead a foot. It was with a lot of pushing and pulling and shoving that Suzie and I finally managed to turn the beast around and with a heavy heart headed back towards Ste Barbe. I wanted to park the bike and hitchhike there and back but Suzie wouldn’t hear of it. Well, looks like another trip’s in our future……..
The ride back was no gift either. We were being hammered with headwinds and crosswinds and the bike at times was heeled over like we were in a hard turn but we were going straight, or at least a close facsimile of straight!
On the way up we had passed an intriguing sign ( Nameless Cove – now there’s a newfie oxymoron for ya!) and as we returned I was determined to take a photo of it and maybe get a little background story.
Oh the wonders of the Newfoundland “chip van”!!
Real good fish and fries and stories to keep you entertained as well. We pulled into the local “chip van” in Flowers Cove adjacent to that other one which remains nameless(sic) and ordered up cod nuggets and chips(yum). While we were waiting for the food we headed off to the nearby shore to view the supposedly only occurrence of Thrombolites this side of the atlantic north of the equator…..? Interesting microbialites!

Back we went to the van for the food and a long chat with the cook. I asked her how Nameless cove got its name. Turns out she was from Nameless cove which used to be called Flowers Cove while the presently named “Flower’s Cove” used to be French Harbour. The government of Newfoundland in their special way of eliminating out-ports and small communities had decided to amalgamate the two communities into one thereby doubling the tax base because only French Harbour had government services and utilities. At the amalgamation meeting with the people of the two communities, the people of 9old) flowers cove inquired what government programs or services would be extended them for the new taxes they were going to pay and were informed that, sorry, nothing new to be added. So they showed the government officials their backsides and bid them good day! Unfortunately the incorporated name of “flower’s Cove” was now already officially attached to French Harbour, so they decided, now being nameless; they might as well make it official! This is a true story!
Turns out the chip cook (part time) was also the full time Bear Cove lighthouse keeper who worked for 17 years in the coast guard rescue and needed a quieter stint to finish out her pension. She spent her childhood on French Harbour Island as the youngest child by five years of three children of the lighthouse keeper of the island. She claims that is the reason for her choice of occupation and the reason why she does so well in her own company!
All the way back to Ste. Barbe we fought with the wind to stay on the road. First stop was the ferry terminal to confirm our reservations. Imagine our surprise when they told us we weren’t on the list. Out comes our confirmation number …..”see, we have a reservation confirmation but we haven’t been able to get any further info on our tickets and time of boarding” ….
Check on the number reveals that we were booked for our crossing on the seventh instead of the fourteenth and missed our crossing, so sorry, and it’s non-refundable regardless of the fact that it was their mistake not ours!
But, as luck would have it there was a vacancy on the current sailing, we could have tickets but the severe wind had the boat held up in port waiting for a drop in the wind. So we bought a second set of tickets and waited, finally got the call at eight thirty that night and we were off on a very rough crossing to Blanc Sablon, Labrador!
While waiting to board we saw a rider on a BMW that we had crossed on occasion in Newfoundland and went over to meet him. George is up here from Cleveland on a three week hurricane tour of Quebec, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia. Newfoundland and Labrador.
Guillaume, who we first met in Rochy Harbour, was there to board the boat too. The winds that blew us all over the raod had actually been an advantage to him. The wind had pushed him and his bicycle all the way here! He will travel with us all the way to Natashquan.
I spent the entire crossing trying hard to ignore the barf bag I had hidden in the back pocket of my jeans. Suzie, with her iron stomach, did not have any troubles!
We arrive in Labrador about ten thirty in the pitch black, headed to the nearest village, Anse au Clair looking for a campground. No luck, so…. Set up the tent in a large gravel lot which is soon to be an RV park.( they let us stay for free!)
BLACK FLIES, BLACK FLIES, BLACK FLIES!!!