I often have trouble recalling names, but I clearly remember those of the two hikers my son and I encountered during our 11-kilometer trek along the Green Gardens Trail in Canada’s Gros Morne National Park. We correctly assumed the other vehicle in the faraway parking lot was theirs, but its Nova Scotia license plates were misleading. The two women had flown into nearby Deer Lake from Toronto, then rented a car.
The Johnson Geo Centre is located beneath the Cape Spear Lighthouse in Newfoundland and is North America's easternmost point. COURTESY PHOTO |
Only some of Newfoundland’s terrain is awe-inspiring; the rest is merely magnificent, spectacular, and/or breathtaking. From majestic mountains to lush forests to towering cliffs overlooking fjords to barren, windswept landscapes with soil too windblown and inhospitable to support any sort of vegetation, it’s not hard to imagine what the island looked like millions of years ago. Which, as we learned at the Johnson Geo Centre (located beneath the Cape Spear Lighthouse, North America’s easternmost point), is because the landscape has indeed remained, for the most part, unsullied by humanity.
And much of humankind’s impact on the island has been erased by the sands of time. Consider L’Anse aux Meadows National Historic Site on the northern peninsula. It wasn’t until 1960 that archeologists began uncovering evidence there of the first Viking (and oldest known European) settlement in North America.
All along the Trans-Canada Highway, the Newfoundland portion of which runs 928 kilometers (576.6 miles), there are enormous stacks of firewood which have been amassed for the coming lengthy winter. Some have clearly been there for some time, but no slithering intruders are lurking in those piles, since no venomous snakes exist on the island.
While Newfoundland may have a dearth of reptiles, there’s no shortage of insects, and the best place to learn about them is the Newfoundland Insectarium in Reidville. The tropical butterfly garden alone is worth the price of admission. It seemed like a great place to meditate, and in fact there was a young man doing just that on the day we visited.
We could have spent a month hiking in Gros Morne but given limited time and even more limited outdoor engineering skills, we swapped our rustic campsite for three nights in a cabin with no electricity or running water, but windows equipped with bug-proof screens. Making that upgrade was by far our best decision of the trip. Three solid evenings of sleep was well worth 300 Canadian dollars.
But even without L’Anse aux Meadows, Signal Hill, Gros Morne, the Insectarium, St. John’s, Cape Spear, Terra Nova National Park, Castle Hill, and the numerous other memorable sites we visited, the trip’s highlight was unquestionably the people. It was Marcella, the indigenous interpreter at the Gros Morne Information Centre. It was Lloyd, the proprietor of the Insectarium, and Weston, his youthful, enthusiastic, and incredibly knowledgeable assistant. It was Valerie, the future ecological policy maker working at Gros Morne, who clued us in about the Bonne Bay Water Shuttle, a 15-minute water taxi ride from Woody Point to Norris Point that saved us an hour drive (each way). It was the gas station attendant along a remote section of the Viking Trail who wouldn’t let us pay for the can opener he gave us, a vital item for two travelers with eight cans of soup they planned on using for campfire-heated meals, but no way to open them.
Jennifer was right when she said, “The best thing about Newfoundland is the people.”
Or maybe it was Jennifer who said it. I often have trouble recalling names. <
All along the Trans-Canada Highway, the Newfoundland portion of which runs 928 kilometers (576.6 miles), there are enormous stacks of firewood which have been amassed for the coming lengthy winter. Some have clearly been there for some time, but no slithering intruders are lurking in those piles, since no venomous snakes exist on the island.
While Newfoundland may have a dearth of reptiles, there’s no shortage of insects, and the best place to learn about them is the Newfoundland Insectarium in Reidville. The tropical butterfly garden alone is worth the price of admission. It seemed like a great place to meditate, and in fact there was a young man doing just that on the day we visited.
We could have spent a month hiking in Gros Morne but given limited time and even more limited outdoor engineering skills, we swapped our rustic campsite for three nights in a cabin with no electricity or running water, but windows equipped with bug-proof screens. Making that upgrade was by far our best decision of the trip. Three solid evenings of sleep was well worth 300 Canadian dollars.
But even without L’Anse aux Meadows, Signal Hill, Gros Morne, the Insectarium, St. John’s, Cape Spear, Terra Nova National Park, Castle Hill, and the numerous other memorable sites we visited, the trip’s highlight was unquestionably the people. It was Marcella, the indigenous interpreter at the Gros Morne Information Centre. It was Lloyd, the proprietor of the Insectarium, and Weston, his youthful, enthusiastic, and incredibly knowledgeable assistant. It was Valerie, the future ecological policy maker working at Gros Morne, who clued us in about the Bonne Bay Water Shuttle, a 15-minute water taxi ride from Woody Point to Norris Point that saved us an hour drive (each way). It was the gas station attendant along a remote section of the Viking Trail who wouldn’t let us pay for the can opener he gave us, a vital item for two travelers with eight cans of soup they planned on using for campfire-heated meals, but no way to open them.
Jennifer was right when she said, “The best thing about Newfoundland is the people.”
Or maybe it was Jennifer who said it. I often have trouble recalling names. <
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