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We took the ferry across the St. Lawrence River to Matane and parked overnight on the dock. We woke up the next morning. Happy Canada Day. Unhappy fog bank. We made an early departure; the other trailers had already left. After driving for about an hour in a pea soup fog, we pulled off into a rest area. We couldnt see anything. Why drive in a fog? We werent in any hurry. Back to bed we went for a nap. When we woke up, about an hour later, we could see clearly, because the fog had lifted. We were greeted by over one hundred windmills. They were of the modern type, with three sixty foot sails. They were the Aeolian Project, begun in 1988 to harness wind power for producing electricity. Ironically they are located at Cap Chat (Cat Cape). Morgana was still recovering from her sea experience and missed it all. She was asleep. (I doubt she would have been impressed. You know how cats are!)Traveled along the Northern coast of the Gaspe. The road hugs the shoreline, while the mountains rise over three thousand feet from the coast. Each village and hamlet was in its own little cove, where the waters for the rivers and the road dipped down to it in deference. The sky was partly cloudy, with the clouds sometimes wreathing the mountains. Sometimes we were below, sometimes within, and other times over the clouds. The vistas were ever changing. With little traffic on the road, we were able to enjoy them without feeling rushed.Drove through the town of Gaspe, at which Jacques Cartier landed in 1534. The name comes from the Micmac language meaning "end of the land". Our goal was the Tete dIndien Campground twenty miles further down the road. We were overwhelmed when we arrived there. We had no reservations, but they had ample room for us. Not only that, they spoke impeccable English. The owner, Dan Rose, was a teacher for over forty years in Findley, Ohio and fell in love with the area. He built this campground with the motto of, "We take care of our campers." That is an understatement. Albeit small, eighteen full service sites and fourteen tent sites. We were given a map and pointed to the ones which were available. We were also told that if we needed help in parking he would have someone do it for us. After we were situated we went back to the office and were give the red carpet treatment. We were given a welcome package with shampoo, soap, and numerous sightseeing pamphlets. We were told where to go for the best fish buys, the restaurants in the area, where to find groceries, and the major attractions in the area. We were given a booklet with many little known tips, e.g. , on which side of the boat to sit when traveling to Bonaventure Island, for which they sold discount tickets. The campground is right on the Gulf of St. Lawrence. They have bocce ball, volleyball, horseshoes, hiking trails, playground and an extensive beach for picking up driftwood, agates, and shells. The campground is so named for the rock formation of the Indian Head, which resembles some of the Easter Island statues. Of course it has a legend. The white men came and took away a beautiful maiden with them. Her beau was saddened and continues to face away from the sea, hoping that she will someday come back to him. This is a very recent legend, because it was Dan who first recognized the effigy. No one else had noticed it previously. It's his legend and he's sticking to it. Dan has since sold the campground and it is under new management.We left for the sea food store, approximately three miles down the road. We purchased some scallops and fresh Atlantic Salmon. We were also shown the many lobsters and snow crabs kept in holding tanks. They are caught right off shore. You can see the buoys for the traps all along the bays. We decided that we would order a lobster for later in our stay. They even cooked them there. That night we had the scallops, which were delicious.We woke up to a beautifully sunny day. We wanted to go to Perce (pronounced per se) and see the most famous rock in Canada. Perce is the furthest East on the Gaspe Peninsula. The rock can be approached at low tide via a causeway. The rock from certain angles gives the appearance of a horse taking a drink from the water. When we arrived, it seemed that all of Provence Quebec had the same idea. The area was crowded. Off to the rock we went. When we got to one point, we would have to take off our shoes and go into calf high water to reach the famous hole. We declined and returned to shore. We had purchased tickets for Bonaventure Island.Bonaventure Island is a Provincial Park and breeding ground for over two hundred fifty thousand birds, of which eighty thousand are Northern Gannets, having six foot wing spans. According to the pamphlet we received, we sat on the starboard, right, side of the boat. Every inch of the cliff and rocks were covered by birds. Of course there were the gannets, but also cormorants, puffins, and sea gulls. Grey seals cavorted in the waters chowing down on the seafood buffet, trail bay travel trailer , . After the trip around the island, the boat stops at the wharf and allows you to explore the park. At one time a colony of over one hundred people farmed the island. Most were from the Island of Jersey. A series of four trails crisscross the island. We took the "les colones" one, the shortest in time, but one that ascended the high island. The trip to the other side and the gannet colony took forty-five minutes. When we got to the colony, we were greeted by sense surround. The noise, sights and smells were amazing. It was much more than the Discovery Channel or National Geographic could present. Thousands of gannets were crowded on this small piece of land. They were involved is all sorts of activities: greeting their mates, foreplay, copulation, defending their territory, take offs and landings. The most funny were the landings. They might be graceful in the air and can dive thirty feet into the water, but when they try to land on terra firma they put on a show. One even landed head first. We thought that his head would disappear into the ground. But he shook it all off, as if to say, "I meant to do that."We traveled the twenty eight miles to the town of Gaspe. The Micmac Indian Tribe has a museum just outside of town showing their way of life. They are masters at using birch bark, not only for their canoes, but also for their dwellings, basketry and arts. The Micmacs lived in most of the Maritime Provinces of Canada. They were nomadic, but returned to the same areas different times of the year. In early spring they tapped the maple trees for syrup and sugar. They stored this underground for use throughout the year. Other times they were hunters and gatherers, using all the parts of the animals and plants. They most probably grew corn, because they used it as a leavening agent for their pan fried bread.Tonight we had the lobster dinner. For thirty dollars, Canadian, we had a four pound male lobster, already cooked. The females had been shipped off for white slavery the day before. They are prized for their delicious eggs throughout their body. I forgot how wonderful fresh lobster tasted. Most of the lobster I have had was tough and tasteless. Every morsel of this one was tender and flavorful. Butter wasnt even necessary. Mags worked on the tail and I tackled the rest. There was so much meat, the we ate only half of it. Looking forward for leftovers.Sad to say, we left Tete dIndien and drove the Southern shore of the Gaspe. The land on this side is more rolling and conducive for farming and resorts with sandy beaches. There are not many attractions on this side, except the sun and surf. One important Naval Battle occurred at Pointe de la Croix. During the final days of the Seven Years War, AKA the French and Indian War in the Colonies, after the fall of Quebec, the French sent six ships with supplies for the remaining French soldiers. Only three made it across the, trail bay travel trailer , Atlantic. There they met the British Navy and were subsequently destroyed.The French settlers, Acadians, were dispersed, their lands confiscated. All along the Eastern shore of New Brunswick, their heritage continues, French being the primary language spoken. We pulled into an empty parking lot in Bathhurst and dry camped for the night.
John and Maggie Pelley are Geriatric Gypsies. Both of us are retired from the rat race of working. We are full-time RVers, who ran away from home. We began our travels on the East Coast and, like the migrating birds, seek the warmth of the seasons. No more shoveling snow in Chicago. We have discovered volunteering with the National Park System. During our travels we have found that each town has a story to tell: some are more interesting than others. Both of us enjoy good listening music as we go. John has a CD he has recorded of Native American flure music. We have learned that RVing has a learning curve. We want to pass on some advice the help others avoid this trecherous curve. Life is an adventure. We are living it to the utmost. For pictures, links, and more information visit http://www.jmpelley.org.
