Two Weeks Solo On My Bike - Pennsylvania to Newfoundland Ride Report

Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by GravelRider, Jun 15, 2012.

  1. Duckworth

    Duckworth Taking the high road

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    Tang and vodka = Astronaut screwdrivers.:deal


    Cool report. I'm trying to decide where to take a trip this summer, and I am thinking of heading to Nova Scotia. Newfoundland will probably have to wait, though.
    #21
  2. Littlepeter

    Littlepeter Been here awhile

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    "Total mileage for the day: 212 miles (though this felt more like 2012 miles)"

    The wind through Wreckhouse literally blows tractor trailers off of the road.
    #22
  3. EvilClown

    EvilClown Standing by to standby for a possible disregard Super Moderator

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    In the shadow of the Uncanoonucs...
    Excellent timing! SCS and I had the maps out last night planning our course.

    :lurk
    #23
  4. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Day 4 – Thursday, June 7th

    I woke up early in the morning with frozen toes. It was another miserable cold morning. I don’t know just how cold it was, but I could see my breath. Thus far into the trip, I had only been getting four to five hours of sleep a night. It’s not that I was tired of sleeping by this point, it’s just that I woke up freezing and couldn’t get back to sleep after waking up cold.

    I looked up into the sky and saw dark clouds that were threatening to dump rain on me. I had been traveling for three days straight in cold rain and wasn’t in the mood to do it again. I decided to just stay put until the skies cleared up.

    While waiting out the impending weather, I took the time to dry out some of my gear by the fire.

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    I also did some hiking in the surrounding area. It was nothing major, but it was a chance to stretch my legs and take a look around at this part of Gros Morne.

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    All morning it looked like it was going to rain, but never did. Finally at about two in the afternoon the skies started to clear a bit and I decided to pack up and see a bit more of Gros Morne and then head up the northern peninsula. I got packed up and headed out on the road. No more than five minutes after leaving, it started drizzling. Un-fucking-believable! I sat around all morning waiting for it to rain, but it never did. As soon as I decide it’s not going to rain (and the skies looked clearer), it starts up once I’m on the bike. I really hope this isn’t how the rest of the trip is going to be. The rain very quickly turns from drizzle to a light rain. Nearly immediately some of the rain finds its way into my boots. Great. I was five minutes into the trip and my feet were already damp. I pulled over and put on my wet weather gear and headed to the Gros Morne Discovery Center. At least that was an indoor exhibit.

    The Discovery Center had been highly recommended by two different park rangers I had spoken to. However, I was disappointed with it. It was really nothing more than a small visitor center with a gift shop. At least I got to see a wild fox that decided to poke around the parking lot.

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    While in the parking lot, a fox decided to show up and hang out a bit.

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    After spending a few minutes at the discovery center, I decided to head north. The scenery through Gros Morne was spectacular. Despite the cold temps, the constant drizzle, and cold wet feet, it was an enjoyable ride through the park.

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    The scenery was spectacular as I headed out of Gros Morne up the northern peninsula.

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    There were lots of little fishing villages along the way.

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    I made it just north of a small town called Parsons Pond when I saw a beached fishing vessel. There was a rough little dirt road leading to the rocky beach about a quarter of a mile from the boat. I pulled off and decided to walk down to take a look at it. As I was walking to the boat, I saw a pickup truck pull into the pull off. I looked back and realized my bike was probably blocking its path. I went back to move it over a bit so the truck could get through. When I walked back, the driver told me it was fine where it was at. There were three guys there; two in their thirties or forties and one teenager. They had a four wheeler they were towing behind on a trailer. I got to talking with them for a bit and they told me they had come down to cut the propeller off of the beached fishing boat to sell for scrap. They had a gas-powered cutter that the teenager and one of the other guys loaded onto the four wheeler, and then they headed to the boat. I walked down the beach with the other guy toward the boat. He told me the boat had mechanical troubles and had washed up on shore last fall.

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    I was able to climb into the boat and look around a bit. It was in rough shape and all the instruments had already been scavenged. There was a ton of drift wood around to make a fire and a flat spot next to the beach that I could put my tent. This would be a great spot to camp for the night… Except I didn’t have a way to get my bike there, and I didn’t want to leave my bike out of sight and a quarter mile from where I would be camped at. I was talking to one of the guys about possibly camping there and they agreed it would make a great spot if only I could get my bike there. They suggested trying to skirt the edge of the rocky beach with my bike. I really didn’t think my bike could make it. However, they said if I had troubles, there were three guys there that could get me out. That was enough of an incentive for me! I really only had about a hundred yards of rough beach to get through, then there was a rough dirt road that was made when they rescued the fishermen last fall (part of the road had turned to swamp, which is why I couldn’t take the bike the whole way there on the road).

    I cleared out some of the big rocks and made myself a rough trail to get to the dirt road. I then hopped on the bike and started down the beach. Almost immediately I realized I had made a mistake going this way. My street tires just couldn’t get any grip in the sand. I would go a foot or two, get buried, then dig myself out and repeat. However, there was no way for me to turn around, so I had to push forward. I had made it about fifty feet when I got myself buried up to my headers. I put the kickstand down and started digging myself out again. As I was digging, a strong gust of wind blew and my bike started coming over on me. I dived out of the way just in time as it came crashing down where I was digging. When it hit the rocks, I heard a sickening cracking sound; the sound of something very hard breaking…

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    #24
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  5. livo

    livo Been here awhile

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    Eugh! Cliffhanger!!!!
    #25
  6. Utah Bones

    Utah Bones Gas X ready!

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    :lurk Love it....
    #26
  7. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Day 4 (continued)

    I tried lifting the bike back up, but it was laying on its side on a down-sloped beach, and I just couldn’t lift it on my own. I started to head to the boat to ask for help, but one of the guys, named Ernest, as I would find out, already saw me and waved to me and hopped on the four wheeler. While I was waiting for him, I checked out the bike. There were no oil leaks or obvious signs of any severe damage. However, it was worrying me that the bike was laying at such a slope that the engine was slightly upside down (hard to tell this from the picture). I took off my luggage and Ernest and I hefted the bike up. I again inspected it and couldn’t see any real damage. There were some scrapes on the plastics and engine case, but nothing major. I then looked down at the rocks and saw a large flat rock was split in half. This must have been the source of that sickening cracking sound! However, I was still worried that it wouldn’t start after lying on its side for five minutes. I turned the key, flipped off the kill switch, pulled in the clutch, and pushed the starter button… It fired right up like nothing had ever happened! I revved it a few times and looked for oil leaking and saw none. I was quite relieved at this point. For the next fifteen minutes, Ernest pushed as I worked the throttle and clutch to get my bike off of the beach and back onto the dirt road I had started on.

    After parking the bike, I went back to the beach and retrieved my gear and my luggage and got it strapped back on the bike. The only real damage was that the latch that held the rear passenger seat on had bent so that it would no longer hold on. This would have been a big problem for me, as that is what my dry bag is trapped to, except that I had my ratchet straps with me. One cinched down ratchet strap later, and it was good as new (well functionally speaking anyhow).

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    I then went back to the ship to thank the guys again and grab a few pictures. When I got there, I saw they had the propeller off the boat and about a third of the way up the beach. This thing was massive! It looked much larger once they had it off the ship and on the beach than it did while on the boat. I asked if they needed some help getting it up the beach and they were quite happy to accept my offer… it looked smaller to them on the boat as well.

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    We eventually wrangled it up the beach, then onto some fiberglass panels from the boat and they hauled it away on the four wheeler. It was getting dark by the time they got it back to their truck. We got the beast loaded onto the bed of their truck somehow. As they were getting the trailer back on the hitch and the four wheeler loaded onto the trailer, the other older (well, he was only ten years older than me… but he wasn’t the teenager) guy, named Reubin (though everyone called him Reub), offered to let me set up my tent in his yard. I gladly accepted the offer. I followed them on my bike and back to his house. He let me park my bike and his car port and then offered to let me set up my cooking set in his garage (he’s a mechanic by trade, so a fully-functioning mechanics garage). Reub actually lived down the street a bit and this was his garage he owned.

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    It was freezing out (possibly literally so), and no warmer inside the garage. Reub came in and we started bullshitting for a bit while I was making up my food. He then fired up his wood furnace. Wow that felt great! It went from freezing cold to near tropical in about ten minutes. He then asked if I wanted to just throw down my mattress on the floor here instead of staying out in the cold in my tent. I was more than happy to agree to that!

    We got to talking and it turns out we had a ton in common. Reub and Ernest are both avid hunters and even guide moose hunts during the moose season! I hunt whitetails and small game back home, so we talked about that for some time. They loved guns and even commented they were a bit jealous of our much more lax gun laws in the US.

    Ernest and the teenage boy headed back to their house. The teenage boy, whose name escapes me, was Ernest’s son and Reub’s nephew. Seemed like a very nice kid.

    I still had 3/4 of my fifth of vodka left in my pack, so me and Reub stayed up all night drinking mixed drinks of vodka and tang, and exchanging stories. Reub also agreed that the tang and vodka made a great mixed drink! Reub makes his own wine and was quite disappointed he didn’t keep any bottles in his garage to share with me.

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    My father is an avid license plate collector. He has hundreds of plates, from all the US states and many, many other countries. It turns out that Reub collects license plates as well. When he learned that my father did too, he offered to give me a Newfoundland plate, which I know my father doesn’t have. He owns a small junkyard as well as his garage, so he had tons of old plates lying around. Reub already had a Pennsylvania plate, but he didn’t have a PA motorcycle plate. So, we exchanged addresses and I told him I would send him out an old motorcycle license plate of mine.

    I would finally have dry feet the next day. The heat vent made a great place to lay my boots to dry them out.

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    It was about 2 am when we polished off the last of the vodka. I couldn’t tell if Reub felt as numb as I did, but I was quite schnookered up by this point. He offered me the use of his air compressor to fill up my inflatable mattress. I had only used the mattress one night and decided against using since then, as it is too much of a pain to fill up. Reub walked down the road to his house and left me for the night. This was the first night of this trip that I was actually warm and comfortable for a night’s sleep. I slept very sound that night.

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    Total mileage for the day: 110 miles

    Day 4 route:
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    #27
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  8. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Uh oh, looks like I might be in trouble!

    Do it! Newfoundland is a spectacular destination.

    Cool. PM me if you have any questions. If you're planning to go to the rock, stop in at www.ridetherock.com. It's a forum for Newfoundland riders. It proved to be extremely helpful when planning my trip.
    #28
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  9. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Proper weatherproof gear will be slowly coming... Too bad all that stuff costs money!

    That tent was junk. That was the first time I was testing that tent out. It failed, so I don't use it. The tent I used for this trip was a cheap one that packed a bit too large, but it held the water out and worked well for me.

    The Western Brook Pond walking trail was spectacular.
    #29
  10. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    I love the name!

    Nova Scotia was beautiful as well, plus there is the Cabot Trail. I wish I had more time to spend there, but sadly I did not.

    Yikes! Glad I didn't end up in a ditch!

    Great! Have a fun trip.
    #30
  11. firefighter651

    firefighter651 Adventurer

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    North Sydney,NS
    Max, I see that you made it,nice and wet too.Next time your up in Cape Breton the fly fishing is on me.
    #31
  12. Fordfixer

    Fordfixer Semi Old Fart

    Joined:
    Jun 18, 2009
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    Midland, New Brunswick, Canada
    Older ferries had a bunkhouse dormitory on them. Was a cheap way to get some sleep. $7-$9 if I remember correctly. I usually tried to book a night crossing and used them most trips. Don't see it on the ferries webpage.Wonder if still available? Weather on the Rock in May/June can be brutal as you found out. Newfoundlander's are some of the best people I have known ,just don't try to out party/drink them. Glad you had a safe trip.
    #32
  13. damurph

    damurph Cold Adventurer

    Joined:
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    The far east of the far east of North America
    No bunkhouses on the new ferries just cabins and seating.
    And the wind in the wreckhouse means that sometimes they close the road (TCH 1) to semi traffic. It used to blow the train off the tracks and there was a person who lived there, Huey McDougall, who would wire the station in Port aux Basques to hold the train when needed. I shit thee not.
    'Twere pleasure meeting you, Max. The door is open anytime.
    #33
  14. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Day 5 – Friday, June 8th

    Reub came into the garage around 9 am the next morning. I was already up and had my bike packed up when he came by. I made some breakfast and some coffee for both of us, and then he showed me his horses. One of them was a Newfoundland pony… but I don’t remember which one he said was; it was one of the two smaller ones. I hung out there for about another hour or so while a bunch of his customers stopped by and he made appointments to work on their cars for the day. He would be out of town for the weekend, but said if I’m ever back through that I’ve always got a place to stay. We exchanged numbers and I said goodbye and headed up the northern peninsula. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be up his way for the rest of the trip.


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    My goal was to make it to L’anse Aux Meadows, the first European settlement in North America, by the end of the day.

    I had heard the moose here in Newfoundland were a big danger to motorists. In fact, it was practically a death sentence to ride the roads at night on a motorcycle... Or at least so I had come to believe. To this point though, I hadn’t yet seen any in Newfoundland. The ride up the northern peninsula changed that. I saw probably two dozen of them… and probably didn’t see far more than that. The fear of hitting one of these giants kept my speed pretty slow. The speed limit on the road up was 80 kph and I was doing probably 70 the whole way. It was slow going and I was making a lot of stops along the way.

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    The landscape of the northern peninsula was quite different from the rest of the island (at least the rest that I explored). The trees were all small and wind-blown and there were vast areas of what looked like tundra.

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    There were dozens of small fishing villages scattered along the route up to L’anse Aux Meadows. Most were small communities of probably less than a hundred people. It seemed the farther north I went, the friendlier the locals were.

    On the way north, I stopped by Port Au Choix. This was a big fishing port at one time. The mainstay of the Newfoundland economy used to be cod fishing. However, in 1992, there was a moratorium that essentially ceased the commercial fishing of cod due to their over-fishing which led to a vast depletion of their population. According to the locals, and supported by what I saw, this was felt hardest on the northern peninsula where there essentially was no other industry.

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    I saw a sign for Wu’s place, a Chinese restaurant, at Port Au Choix. I was starving and didn’t feel like cooking a meal… and their prices were cheap, so Wu’s it was.

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    It looked delicious… However, that may have been the worst Chinese food I’ve ever had in my entire life. Blech! Oh well, it served its purpose to fill my stomach.

    Heading up the peninsula, the weather got colder and colder. My left leg was freezing and breezy. I pulled over and noticed that the stitching above my left knee on my leather pants was coming undone… Zip ties FTMFW!

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    The ride up the northern peninsula ranged from fully wooded to barren and desolate. I tried to pull over and grab pictures as much as I could.

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    My artsy fartsy picture of the trip

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    I pulled off the side of the road to take a leak. When I pulled over to a small dirt road, I noticed that I had pulled off onto one of the many logging roads that had small sawmills.

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    I noticed some land off to the left as I was riding north. I pulled over and looked at the map and realized that the land off to the left across the sea was Labrador. There were several icebergs in the water.

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    The weather got colder and colder the closer I got to L’anse Aux Meadows. It had started to drizzle and was just unbearably cold. I made it up to L’anse Aux Meadows, but the visitor center had already closed and I needed to find a spot to camp for the night.

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    I headed back south and looked for old logging roads. About twenty miles south of L’anse Aux Meadows I went down a logging road and found a good spot to throw down a tent. I set up camp and went out scavenging wood. These were the coldest temps of the trip, and I wanted a fire to warm up next to. Everything was soaking wet and I knew starting a fire would be a challenge. I gathered up as much kindling as I could and a lot of larger pieces. Rather than find some dry leaves (there weren’t any) or other tinder, I decided to put my fuel cans to good use again. Instead of tinder, I just poured some gas on the kindling and got it started that way. I got a good fire going and that lasted for several hours before I went to sleep for the night.

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    I then made dinner for the night and went to sleep.

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    Total mileage for the day: 248 miles

    Day 5 route:
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    #34
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  15. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    It was a pleasure meeting you as well Murph... and eating your food!
    #35
  16. traindriver

    traindriver Adventurer

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    Carl Junction M.O.
    Planning a trip like this for next year. Do you have to make rservations for the ferry or can you just show up. And get on. Great report enjoying it.
    #36
  17. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Day 6 – Saturday, June 9th

    I woke up after about five hours. My feet were cold and I was shivering. There was no use in trying to go back to sleep. I was too cold. I got up and got the fire going again to warm up. It had dipped below freezing last night, as there was frost on my bike seat. What the hell? This was mid-June! Welcome to the northern peninsula of Newfoundland, I guess.

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    On the way back up to L’anse Aux Meadows.

    Although I was slowly realizing how safe my items on my bike were here in Newfoundland, I noticed a lot of license plates in the parking lot that weren't from Newfoundland. Since I would be away from my bike for an hour or two, I decided to lock everything up.

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    140 L Pacsafe luggage lock.

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    Handgun lock through my helmet.

    I packed up and headed up L’anse Aux Meadows. As I said earlier, this was the first European settlement in North America. It was a Viking settlement that was occupied for about ten years around 1000 AD. They had the archaeological remains on that you could look at, but that was just a few uninteresting grass mounds. They also recreated the original settlement as authentically as they could. As I was walking down the path to the archaeological remains, I stumbled upon a small tour group, so I joined them. The tour guide was a gentlemen that grew up around the area and actually used to play on the archaeological site as a kid. They thought it was old Indian grounds at the time.

    He did a fantastic job of doing the tour... However, there was an extremely annoying couple from Vancouver, British Columbia along for the tour as well. They seemed to be very knowledgeable about the site, and made sure everyone on the tour knew how much information they knew. At any break in his speaking, no matter how small, they would cut in with a tidbit of useless information or ask a question they knew the answer to. For example, the tour guide mentioned the cod fishing moratorium in the early 90s, and Mrs. Douchio had to cut in and ask 'the moratorium started in the year 1992, right?' Well, fuck you very much for that information. I don't know how I got by on this tour without it. Fucking cunt. I eventually got sick of the yuppie couple and took off on my own again to explore the site.

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    I next rode through St. Anthony. There was nothing there I particularly wanted to see, so I stopped when I found something interesting, but I didn’t spend much time there. I pictured it being a much larger place than it was.

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    Back home almost no one flies a Pennsylvania flag. Lots of people, of course, fly the US flag, but the PA flag is largely ignored. In Newfoundland, however, I see an occasional Canadian flag, but mostly their provincial flag is flown. Newfoundlanders are definitely Newfoundlander first and Canadian second (as I had been told more than once).

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    From there I headed back south. My goal was to get to Gros Morne, and maybe a bit further if possible. I didn’t stop to see much this day. I had already traveled these roads a couple days before, so it was mostly just a straight shot down. However, passing back down through Parson’s Pond, I ran into a fellow holding an interesting sign.

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    I didn’t recognize the flag on the sign and was curious about it, so I slowed down, swung a u-turn and talked to him. He was a fairly young guy, probably my age. He seemed quite happy to talk to me and I was happy to listen. He explained that Quebec had something like 85% of the Capelin fishing rights in the Gulf of St. Lawrence and that there was a great deal of animosity toward Quebec because of it. As I was talking to him, he pulled a beer out of his fishing boot. I then noticed his boots were loaded with beer! Neat trick. I talked to him for a bit longer, said goodbye, and headed down the road.

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    I stopped to have a quick lunch of heated up flakes of turkey on pita bread. It was actually quite tasty!

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    Along the way, I stopped when I saw a fox hanging out on the side of the road. When I pulled over to take a picture of it, it came a little closer and kept giving me quizzical looks. As I pulled away, it followed me. I stopped, and it stopped. I then slowly rode alongside the shoulder for a bit and it followed me the whole time, stopping every time I did. Neat little fellow.

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    I made it to Gros Morne and decided to go on past it to find a logging road to camp for free. I had stopped earlier and picked up two small steaks to cook over the fire. The problem was that it was very windy and I didn’t feel comfortable making a fire in the woods. It looks like I would have to cook it over my small camp stove. As luck would have it, I came upon a gravel pit down the logging road. It was surrounded by dirt and stone hills on all sides and was far from any trees. Windy or not, this was a plenty safe place to start a fire without fear of catching anything else on fire with blowing embers!

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    I grilled up my first steak and took a bite out of it and spit it right out. What the hell! It was so salty it made my stomach turn. I looked at the package and saw I had inadvertently bought a salt cured steak. This one four ounce steak had 6000g of sodium. Yuck. This became a meal for the fire. However, even the fire didn’t seem to want it. It never would burn all the way through, despite sitting right on the coals.

    Luckily my other steak wasn’t salt cured, so I enjoyed that one. I like my steaks rare to medium rare, so cooking over a fire is perfect. I burn down some wood until there is just a hot bed of coals. I season one side, then toss it directly on top of the coals. After a minute I flip it over and season the other side. It gets a light char on the outside while the inside is tender. Perfect.

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    (not exactly how I like to do it, but I dropped this one there and just went with it)

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    Delicious!

    Oh, and a hot tip for cooking over a campfire: Don't try to move one of the rocks with your bare hands... They're hot.

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    I was probably a mile or two down the logging road and far away from any sort of civilization. With the wind howling and making strange noises, your mind can sometimes play tricks on you. I swore I kept hearing voices and rustling around nearby. I kept shining the flashlight into the woods expecting to see some eyes reflecting back at me. Though, nothing. It didn’t help that I was reading a creepy adventure novel, and then images from every horror movie I had ever watched kept playing through my mind. Here I was 29 years old and scared of the dark! Hahaha.

    Although the wind kept me pretty chilled, the temperature was the warmest of any night thus far. Once I crawled into the tent and the wind wasn’t as strong, it was actually pretty comfortable.

    Total mileage for the day: 312 miles

    Day 6 route:
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    #37
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  18. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

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    Day 7 – Sunday, June 10th

    I woke up around 9am, which means I got a solid nine hours of sleep! I really needed that sleep too. I had been working on way too few hours of sleep since my trip started. The much warmer temperatures of the night afforded me time to sleep. I packed up and got on the road heading to Twillingate.

    The interior of the island looked somewhat like home in some respects. The trees were larger and there were more deciduous trees, not just the scrubby pines of the northern peninsula. Around lunch time I stopped at a gas station to fill up and picked up a few groceries as well. I then pulled off onto a logging road to make lunch.

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    This rice crispies treat sounds delicious...

    On the way up to Twillingate, I pulled over at a small provincial park sign to take a picture...

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    Once I got close to Twillingate, the scenery changed again to a beautiful seaside appearance. Whereas the northern peninsula was poor and dreary, this region looked fairly wealthy and touristy. I also noticed the people were not nearly as friendly as they were on the northern peninsula. It seems they are quite used to dealing with tourists and aren’t as warm because of it (who can blame them). I stopped in Twillingate and got an ice cream and took a walk out to a beach.

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    I stopped and saw a small iceberg wedged into the rocks, so I walked down to get a better look and some pictures of it. Next to it was a piece of the iceberg about the size of a bowling ball. I got the tripod and set up a picture of me holding it over my head. I was then going to post it with some mildly amusing title like 'the great max, iceberg conquerer,' or something equally as ghey. I seem to have screwed up the timer and only have a picture of the back of my legs. Ah well, here's another small iceberg picture:

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    Whale skeleton

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    This touristy place, albeit beautiful, just wasn’t really what I came to Newfoundland to see and experience. I didn’t spend much time there. I headed south with hopes of making it to Terra Nova National Park that day. It was mostly a straight shot there, other than stopping in Gander for some groceries for the next day or two. I decided to stop into their Walmart and see if it was any differed from the ones in the States. Other than this store being a regular Walmart (not a Super Walmart), you’d never know you weren’t in the States.

    On the way to Terra Nova, I saw a sign with the ‘screaming eagle’ from the 101st airborne division. I was intrigued and couldn’t imagine there was a Canadian airborne unit with the same insignia. I took the turn and ended up on a small dirt road. I was sure I took the wrong turn, but continued down just in case I found a good place to camp. Then I saw the sign for the 101st airborne division ‘silent memorial.’ A military plane full of soldiers from the 101 had crashed there coming back from a peacekeeping mission on the Sinai Peninsula. Canada erected a memorial in their honor. I’m glad that I stopped to see this. It was odd to see a bunch of American flags planted in Canadian soil though.

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    It was about 9 pm by the time I made it to Terra Nova National Park. I decided I wanted a shower (it had been a few days), so I stopped in and set up camp at the park camp site. I was bummed to see that fires were not allowed in the park, but it wasn’t all that cold this night anyhow, and I didn’t have any meat to cook over the fire, so I didn’t lose any sleep over it.

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    Total mileage for the day: 402 miles

    Day 7 route:
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    #38
    St_rydr, jasiu and Jimmy C like this.
  19. Moosehunter

    Moosehunter Adventurer

    Joined:
    Sep 19, 2011
    Oddometer:
    66
    Location:
    Western North Carolina
    Thank you for posting this! The pictures and information you've shared is great. I've bow hunted Moose just south of St. Anthony. The people were great and so was the hunting. You're RR is making me want to do the ride also. Thanks again for posting.
    #39
  20. GravelRider

    GravelRider AKA max384 Supporter

    Joined:
    Nov 23, 2011
    Oddometer:
    6,976
    Location:
    North by South
    Thanks for showing interest in my ride report. It's always nice to have an audience!

    After doing this ride report, I've now got an itch to go moose hunting up there. The amount of moose in the northern peninsula was just staggering... and that was only those moose that I actually saw.
    #40