My Canadian Summer-A Photo Travelogue Blog

The Early Plan

Sometime in November 2024, I decided I wanted to drive to the Canadian Maritimes, especially Nova Scotia, a place I’ve long wanted to visit.

I put my idea out there on social media and received quite a few offers to come and teach, from Maine to Newfoundland and beyond. Frankly, I felt a bit overwhelmed with all the invites and let them sit for a while to percolate a plan.

I started reaching out to those offers that seemed a) within my trip’s destination parameters, and b) those that seemed credible. This second group was more difficult to distinguish, as I knew only a few of the people writing. So I started writing back to individuals to suss out their possibilities.

In early spring, I got a surprise email from Chanchal Cabrera inviting me to teach at the Kootenay Herb Gathering in late June. The Kootenays are in southeastern British Columbia (BC).

I had planned to teach with Chanchal on Vancouver Island in 2020, but we all know what occurred that year, and those plans were scuttled.

This BC invitation was enticing for several reasons. First, I have wanted to visit the Kootenays since I was about 12 years old. Why, you probably are not asking? When I was young, I feared getting drafted into the Vietnam War, where I thought I’d either kill or be killed. Neither outcome was very inviting. In my young mind, I started thinking about going to Canada, and the Kootenays were a popular Canadian destination for those avoiding the draft. (Conscription stopped when I was 14 years old.) So, in my mind, the Kootenays hold a sort of mythical place.

Also, I was taking the year off from running my own school and had more time to visit the region. I had not been to Vancouver Island since my hitchhiking days of the 1980s.

So I reconfigured my plan to spend the first part of the summer in British Columbia and the latter half in the Maritimes (New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland. I did not make it to Prince Edward Island.

I started packing months in advance for both trips, making sure I had plant field guides for all the regions I was visiting.

 

British Columbia

The impetus for this trip was my being invited to teach at the Kootenay Herb Gathering in the Slocan Valley of British Columbia. Since I wasn’t running my school that year, I thought I’d make a larger trip out of it. First, I wanted to spend some time with Chanchal Cabrera at her home on Vancouver Island. I then wanted to drive to the Kootenays to see more of British Columbia. This is about a 1000 mile (1600 km) round-trip drive. Yarrow Willard very generously offered me one of his vehicles to make the journey. (Thank you once again, Yarrow.)

On June 21, 2025, I flew to Vancouver Island (after sleeping overnight at the Calgary airport) and was greeted at the airport by Thierry, Chanchal’s hubby. I spent the next week at Innisfree, Chanchal’s home, which is also a lovely botanical garden with a café. I enjoyed getting to know Chanchal better as well as eating mounds of fresh fruit and veggies daily.

Chanchal invited friends on former students on a plant walk in Paradise Meadow at a local provincial park. I got see some of the higher altitude flora of the region as well as mingle with more Canadian herbalists and plant admirers.

Since Vancouver Island is an island, I had to take the ferry to get back and forth to the mainland. It is a quick ferry trip, just 1.5 hours. I enjoy ferry rides, feeling the wind, and staring out over the ocean, along with traveling without driving. I still have very fond memories of taking the ferry from Bellingham, Washington, to Haines, Alaska, 2 years ago. But that was a 2.5 day ride, with some gorgeous scenery and a whole other story.

 

 

I spent the next few days teaching at the Kootenay Herb Gathering at the Vallican Whole Community Center. I felt honored to be invited to teach at this herbal conference and enjoyed meeting many new (to me) Canadian herbalists as well as exploring the Slocan Valley. This was my first time visiting this region, and I was familiar with many of the plants, as they are similar to those found in the Rocky Mountains. (Which, of course, is the same environment, just across a political boundary.) After the conference, I had an excellent meal (especially the Szechuan fried green beans with kale) with my herbal comrades at the weirdly named ‘Sleep is for Sissies’ restaurant. We then went on a tour of Colleen Emery’s nearby herb school and apothecary. She (along with Chanchal) has taught many Canadian herbalists. It feels good to connect with other herbal teachers.

I saw several interesting mycoheterotrophic plants on Vancouver Island and the Kootenays. They lack any green color as they do not contain chlorophyll and hence do not photosynthesize. They obtain nutrients from belowground fungi, which obtain sugars from nearby plants.

I had a major (for me) technological disaster happen during the conference. My laptop stopped being able to charge and was displaying weird messages. We were nowhere near a computer repair shop, though there was one in the nearby city of Nelson, which was where I was headed next. My main problem (along with my usual oversized anxiety when my laptop gets glitchy) was an 8-hour class planned for the next day. I had about 30 pages of notes for the class (‘How Herbalists Can Help with Disaster Relief’). I downloaded my notes to Holly’s laptop, and she was able to print them out. So one crisis averted. (Once in Nelson, I was able to get two jacks working, so the problem was temporarily fixed. I still need to deal with the issue.)

I spent the next few days in Nelson, BC. I stayed with Melanie Pulla and her family. I had taught Melanie at the California School of Herbal Medicine in 2000, so it had been quite a few years. I am very appreciative of all the people who have let me stay at their homes during my travels. I admit to especially enjoying all the ripe cherries dripping from Melanie’s trees. In about 15 minutes, I gathered about 15 pounds. I’m just sorry I couldn’t bring them home with me (fresh fruit is a no-no while crossing borders). While in Nelson, I went on a plant walk with local botanist and herbalist, Patrick Kooyman, and learned more about the local flora. I also ate a tasty dinner with Korina Langevin, an herbalist and owner of Red Light Ramen. I was then taken on an evening walking tour of Nelson.

My next stop was teaching in Summerland, in the Okanagan. A big thank you to Sarah Willard for setting up my teaching gig and offering a place to stay (with her mom) while I was in town. The classes were divided with a morning plant walk at the local botanical garden, and a later class about anxiety in the library.

A side note: one thing I did not expect when I started studying herbal medicine in the early 1980s was that one day I would have the ability to travel and teach. This has been a real boon in my life. I appreciate teaching about a subject dear to me, visiting new regions, and meeting plants and people. Thank you, herbal medicine.

 

It was then time for me to go back to Vancouver Island for a few days before flying home. While driving this route, the road ended at a river. I thought I must have made a mistake and drove back and forth a few times before realizing that this was a ferry crossing, proving that I am a newcomer to Canada. I also stopped a few times for plant and animal viewing.
As usual, I got to the Vancouver ferry terminal a few hours early (yes, call me an anxious traveler). It was a warm, full moon night on the ferry, and I spent most of it staring out at the moon and water, thinking about places I’ve traveled to and the many places I will not get to travel. My mind meandered between wistful, poignant, melancholy, and all the spaces in between.

The next few days were spent seeing new and old friends, gorging on fresh fruit, and planning how I would both return Yarrow’s vehicle and get to the airport by 4:00 am. I finally arrived back at the Syracuse airport by 2 am and got a late-night ride with Robbie and breathed in the familiar air of my home.

Interlude

I spent the next 9 days basically getting squared away at home. My van’s brakes locked up while I was gone and had to be replaced. (Fact: car maintenance is very expensive.) There was landscape and garden maintenance, catching up at the Ithaca Free Clinic, and spending some time appreciating where I live before my next jaunt. Also, shoring up all the details with the people who invited me to teach and stay with. A lot of that.

And I got the chance to attend Jeanne Shenandoah’s 80th birthday party.

Maine and The Maritimes
And so on the morning of June 21, 2025, I left home again, with new brakes, driving toward the land of Maine. It has been some years since I’ve visited this state, and I looked forward to reacquainting myself with its woodlands and ocean.

Another aside: One of my first long hitchhikes was around 1979. A friend and I hitchhiked from Long Island, NY, to Penobscot, Maine, to visit our teacher, Tom. Tom ran the suicide prevention hotline for Nassau Community College, and both of us worked there. After visiting Tom, we hitched to and hiked up Mount Katahdin. Some years later, I hitchhiked to Biddeford, Maine, to see my little sis (hello, Naomi), who was going to occupational therapy school there. Maine holds some nostalgia for me.

Back to 2025. With my van packed, I drove the 8 hours to Buxton, Maine, where I was set to teach at Rooted Heart Apothecary the next day. Nyeela is the herbalist and café master who set me up for this gig. I spent the night in a cozy yurt and ate well, as I have in so many of my recent adventures (except when I am on the road; more on that later). I left the next day to cover a lot of Maine ground. I first went inland to Waterford, Maine, to visit my good friend Catherine, whom I had barely seen since 1995. (In 1993, we went on a road trip from Ithaca, NY, to Albuquerque, NM, to meet the herbalist Michael Moore. Our goal was to only travel on secondary and tertiary roads there and back, which we mainly did. I got to see a lot of rural America on that road trip. I also convinced Michael Moore to let me teach botany at his school, which I did in 1994 and 1995.)

After visiting Catherine, I drove back toward the coast to see my former apprentice and friend, Maddy, who works at Avena Botanicals, a farm and apothecary run by Deb Soule (who unfortunately was not there). I had only been there once before, but that was in early spring when there was little plant growth, so I was excited to see it in its full, lush glory. And it is a beautiful medicinal garden/farm. If you are in the area (Rockport, ME), I suggest a visit. I enjoyed getting a chance to catch up with Maddy and see so many medicinal plants.

And yet another side note. I realize that I am introducing many other former life adventures throughout this story. Since I am not sure that anyone will read this besides myself, I think I will continue this navel-gazing trend.

After visiting Avena Botanicals, I went further up the coast to meet Karen and Matt Hoff, the aunt and uncle of a close friend who had invited me to stay with them. They live in a picturesque home on a cove. This was the first time on this trip being so close to the ocean. It was windy and captivating. I stayed at their Garage Mahal (the upstairs apartment in their garage), and the following day, we explored the area. They pointed out a patch of native Sweetgrass (Anthoxanthum nitens) near the beach, and I later went back to take some photos. This was my first time seeing a Sweetgrass species growing in its native habitat.

The next day, I traveled further up the coast to the Downeast town of Machias, where I taught in their 1893 library, thanks to an invitation by Lori McClellan. After the class, I drove to the small town of Perry just south of the Canadian border, where I was offered a place to stay for the night in a trailer. (Thank you, Marie and Pete).

The next day, I drove into Canada. I felt a sense of exhilaration crossing the border, as I was getting closer to the initial reason I had originally planned this trip. That is, visiting the Canadian Maritimes.

I then visited and stayed with Tatum, a New Brunswick herbalist, who set up my next teaching venue. I got some swimming in at the nearby St. John’s River, the first of many swims to come. The next day, I taught at the New Brunswick Herb Fair held at a city farm in Fredericton. I felt fortunate to be invited to teach at this fair with local herbalists.

I had a few days between teaching gigs, and asked folks at the NB Herb Fair about places in New Brunswick to visit and eat. I drove to Fundy National Park, and fortunately, they had a few camping spots available. Unfortunately, each campsite crowded into the other, which I found was common in other parks during my travels. But fortunately, all Canadian parks were free to visit until September (some sort of Visit Canada campaign). Also, all campsites were 25% off, which was good as they were still about $25-$35 per night.

The next day, I drove to the Octopus’s Garden in Alma, where I charged all my devices (including my large Jackery battery) and had their Asian noodle bowl (a good change from my usual car food). At the NB Herb Fair, someone told me there was a free campground along the coastal route. Thus, I drove along the road hoping to find it, and sure enough, there it was, ‘The Shire.’ I was intrigued by someone taking the time and expense to clear a piece of their land and allow donation-based camping. So, I went across the street to the house where the owner lived and was greeted by Don, the 82 year old owner.
The conversations started pretty strangely. He asked me where I was from, and I told him, Upstate, New York. He then said, “I love Trump, do you hate me?” I was taken off guard by this statement, but I said something like, ‘No, I don’t know you enough to hate you.’ He then gave me a tour of his home, where I listened to stories from his long-time living in the region. Later, he came to the campground, where he was now wearing a MAGA hat. We discussed politics for a while, but it was clearly not going in a direction either one of us wanted.
It is obvious that Don is generous, by opening up and maintaining his land for anyone to camp. While we may disagree politically, we can do so amicably.

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The next morning, I started my drive to the nearby Cape Enrage (yes, that’s its real anthropomorphic name). On my way, I drove past a flowering field and began keying out and taking photos of the plants there. This is one of my favorite parts of travel. I try to always have a floral key for the region. (A ‘key’ is a technical method that allows one to know the precise species of a plant by going through multiple questions.) I stopped and looked out over the foggy marshland and keyed out plants such as Musk mallow (Malva moschata), Valerian (Valeriana officinalis, which is quite weedy in this region), and Evening primrose (Oenothera biennis). I then continued on to Cape Enrage. I stopped at a nearby beach and continued my keying out ways. (I initially drove to the Cape, where the lighthouse is, but it was $10 to get in, so I went back to the beach, which has more access to plants.) And there, growing out of the rocky cliffs, was a plant I have long wanted to see in the wild, Rhodiola (Rhodiola rosea, Crassulaceae). I came back the next day and spent hours looking for a Rhodiola in flower. After a few hours exploring the cliffs, I found one plant in flower. Rhodiola is dioicous, meaning that each plant has either staminate (male) or pistillate (female) flowers. This one was pistillate. I was feeling quite exuberant as it was late in the season, and I wasn’t sure I would find any plants in flower. And there were many other plants to key out along the beach and the nearby marsh. It was a good botany day.

(I should add that 2 days before, while at Fundy National Park, I saw a plant that I thought was Rhodiola and got quite excited about it. I wrote a social media post sharing my enthusiasm, but its identity was questioned by Robert Wesley, a botanist who is generally always right about such things. That plant was Stonecrop [Hylotelephium telephium, Crassulaceae]. This made it doubly exciting to find the genuine Rhodiola the following day.)

I spent 2 days exploring plants along the famous Bay of Fundy. Its fame derives from it having the highest tides in the world, up to 52 feet twice a day. Of course, one doesn’t really get a sense of this by being there at any one point of the day. But I was there long enough to watch this infamous tide roll in and back out to the ocean. 

My next stop was with Amanda Howse and her family in Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia. They live along the Waughs River, so I took the opportunity to get in a few more swims. (Yes, this post is going to recount every place I swam. It was hot and dry, what is a traveler to do?) While at their home, I ate some delish kraut, as Amanda and her hubby, Christopher, own Nova Kraut. And Amanda hooked me up with some of her tasty chocolate-covered peanut butter balls, which I savored over the next few days while traveling. That evening, I taught a class on Herbal First Aid for the Home at the Tatamagouche Community Center. After the class, I drove to visit my former apprentice and herbal friend, Kaleigh McGregor-Bales, where we spent the evening catching up. The next day, I went to Green Man Botanicals in Gaspereau Mountain, the home and garden of John Cummings. I slept in a comfy off-the-grid cabin and spent the next day teaching 3 classes (and my first plant walk in the Maritimes). People were asked to bring something to share for lunch, and I ate quite well (perhaps too well, as I was having a difficult time not eating all the tasty tidbits).

From there, I drove to Bridgetown to visit with Ember Peters, an herbalist I had met previously and was looking forward to getting to know better and sharing information with a fellow clinical herbalist and herb teacher. And of course, we went swimming in a nearby lake.

Once again, I want to share how much I enjoyed meeting new-to-me herbalists and plant admirers. These encounters have increased my understanding of plants, plant medicines, and the world of Canadian herbalism.

The next part of my journey took me to Halifax, my first Maritime city on this journey. There, I met Savayda Jarone, a clinical herbalist who invited me to teach. I taught a class on Lyme disease and then spent the next few days at Savayda’s home, which is a beautiful piece of land along the Atlantic coast. I stayed in the boathouse, looking over the Atlantic Ocean. It was a lovely and comfortable place to stay, and was difficult to leave. And of course, I took the opportunity to swim some more. Savayda and I also went to Dee Dee’s, a well-known Halifax ice cream shop. The main reason I wanted to go (besides enjoying ice cream) was that the land Kaleigh (see above) lived on was owned by Ditta, the originator of Dee Dee’s. I enjoy these little coincidences.
One sad aspect occurred while I was in Halifax. The Nova Scotia provincial government closed all public wooded trails due to a fire hazard. While this is understandable, for the rest of my time in Nova Scotia, the only trails I could walk on were along the ocean. The fine for being on one of these trails was $25,000, which frankly seemed a bit unenforceable. Fortunately for me, the main places I wanted to visit were along the ocean. Thank you, Savayda, for your warm welcome and our interesting discussions.

Now it was time to drive to Cape Breton Island. This is the region of Nova Scotia that I had heard the most about from fellow herbalists and plant devotees. I had a place to stay in Baddeck, thanks to an invitation from Erica, whom I met while teaching at Green Man Botanicals. Along with a swim in a nearby river, I accompanied Erica to a Powwow in Sydney, where she was volunteering. It was held in a big open field. After a few hours of enjoying the dancers under the hot sun, I sauntered off to a nearby A&W, a seemingly ubiquitous Canadian institution (though not as much as Tim Horton’s), and relished the air-conditioning and a frosty root beer. The following day, I drove partway up the eastern side of Cape Breton Highland National Park, admiring the rocky coast and observing some Gray seals out in the ocean. I stopped at a few beaches to get my daily swimming in (the pattern continues), and then drove back down to Baddeck, where I went to their yearly street festival. At this point in my life, I can only be at these street fests for less than an hour before wanting to get out of the crowd. I usually look for any herbalist vendor to chat up (I spent a little time with an herbal soap maker there).
The next day, I left Baddeck (thank you, Erica and Jimmy, for a place to stay) to spend a few days camping at Cape Breton Highland National Park.
The Cabot Trail is a 185 mile (298 km) road that loops around the whole park. I initially stopped to pick up some supplies in Chéticamp, the town right before entering the western side of the park. The town is largely Acadian, and French is widely spoken there. I then got a campsite at the Chéticamp campground in the park. As with most of the parks I stayed in, my campsite was very close to nearby campsites and in full sun. Though I was still glad to get a site, as they are usually full at that time of the year. Many people were canceling their reservations at Nova Scotia parks due to fire restrictions closing all the woodland trails. The next day, I moved to a slightly more shaded campsite. An advantage of sleeping in my van is that it makes moving very easy.
I spent the next few days driving around and exploring the park. It is très beautiful, with much arresting scenery. While the inland trails were closed, the ocean areas were open. Aside from swimming, I explored the plant life, most of which I was familiar with, as many of these plants also grow in the Northeastern US.
A side note: Last Chance Sandwich is just a few minutes down the road from the Chéticamp campsite. They have a wide variety of tasty sandwiches. This is a good place to stock up for a day’s drive around the park (as long as you have a cooler).
My last campsite in Cape Breton NP was at Broad Cove, where I finally wrangled a shady, private campsite. A short walk away was a sandy beach, and I had a few final swims in the Atlantic Ocean.

I then drove to Sydney, Nova Scotia, to catch the ferry to Newfoundland. And as usual, I got there many hours early, as that is the kind of anxious traveler that I am.
But first, a story about getting ferry tickets. Initially, I didn’t even know I needed a ferry to get to Newfoundland (a sad state of my Canadian geography knowledge). And even after learning about the ferry, I put off getting tickets, as I reckoned it would be easy, like purchasing ferry tickets from Vancouver Island to the mainland. Boy, was I wrong. When I finally started trying to buy the tickets online, the site indicated that there were no dates available for a vehicle on the days and weeks around when I wanted to travel. I tried for about 4 days, and while it was easy to purchase a ticket to get to Newfoundland, there were none to be had to get back. I finally called the booking agency, and they said that the earliest I could get a ticket was August 30, a week after I wanted to be home. I even tried to get tickets from Argentia, Newfoundland, back to Nova Scotia, which is a 16 hour (rather than a 7 hour) ferry trip, and much more expensive. But that route was booked as well. I learned that there were occasional cancellations, though those tended to book fast. After a week of trying, I thought that my plans to visit Newfoundland were dashed. But I persisted, and then, one day, a ticket appeared that fit into my schedule. I didn’t want to dilly-dally, but I triple checked to make sure all the dates were correct. (At one point, while trying to book a ticket, I got excited, but at the last minute, I realized it was for the following year. Another let down, but glad to have not made that mistake.) The only catch was that it meant I could only be in Newfoundland for 5 days, including arriving and departing. But I grabbed it, excited that I would be visiting ‘The Rock.’
And so, at 11:15 pm on August 20, I excitedly boarded the Blue Puttees for my 7 hour ride across the Cabot Strait.
While the website stated that people could not sleep on the floor of the main passenger area, I saw people setting up bedding between the seats to do exactly that. And since it was an overnight ferry ride, I brought my sleeping bag on board, hoping that I could. (As with most shorter ferry rides, you cannot go to your vehicle once the ferry leaves the dock.). And while I didn’t get much sleep with all the sounds around me, I did get a little, and I was glad to be lying down rather than sitting, as I am abysmally bad at sleeping in a sitting position.
After we arrived the next morning, I disembarked and started driving, not knowing where I would be heading. I had one possible destination.
First, some background. Once I had ferry tickets, I posted on social media that I would be traveling to Newfoundland. And Holdfast Megan wrote and said that she would like to set up a class, and I could park my van on their land. Hooray for the herbal community.
So I had one place to stay. I initially drove to J.T. Cheeseman Provincial Park, where I took a nap (once again, the advantages of driving in my van) and spent a few hours looking at the coastal plants that grew there.
After that, I wrote to Megan and asked if I could come a day early, which she said was fine. So I drove another 3 hours north to their home near Corner Brook. When I arrived, I learned that she and her kids were swimming in a nearby pond. So you can guess what I did next. I got back in my van to find the pond to join them in their swimming.
The next day, Megan took me on a bog walk in Blow Me Down Provincial Park. Fortunately, the park trails were not closed in Newfoundland, though the bog was very dry. At the end of the bog walk, there was a rocky area with a clear mountain stream to swim in. It was chilly and beautiful. And the water was the clearest I had seen on this trip. It took a little while to get used to the cold water, but once acclimated, we probably stayed in the water for at least half an hour and then sunned ourselves on the rocks before walking back through the bog to the vehicle.
The next day, I drove to Gros Morne National Park. Along the way, I stopped to watch two melanistic foxes along the road. But I soon learned it was a bad idea, as the foxes stayed on the road hoping for a handout from me, even after I tried to shoo them away. And they were nearly hit by a truck. A park ranger soon arrived and said that recently, some people had fed these foxes, and now they were hovering in that area, hoping for a handout. A lesson once again on why it is not a good idea to feed wild critters.
I then drove to Gros Marne National Park. I stopped at the Tablelands, but it was chilly and rainy, and I wanted to find a place to sleep that night. I ended up at the Trout River campsite.
The next day, I drove back to the Tablelands, which I found to be one of the most interesting places I visited in the Maritimes, both for its plant life and geology.
The orange-tinted rocky outcroppings of the Tablelands are due to its unique geology. It is one of the few places on Earth where the Earth’s mantle is exposed. It is primarily composed of serpentinized peridotite, which gives the surface its distinctive coloration. This rocky ground is low in nutrients and has some toxicity that inhibits most plants from growing there. Though there are plants that do manage to grow in this harsh environment. The most surprising were the plants that I usually see growing in bogs, including a number of carnivorous ones, such as Pitcher plant (Sarracenia purpurea), Bladderwort (Utricularia cornuta), Sundew (Drosera anglica), and Butterwort (Pinguicula vulgaris). These bog plants are able to exist in this extreme environment because they have other ways of obtaining nutrients, notably by carnivory. While the rest of my Maritime trip was dry, there was a constant hard drizzle in the Tablelands. I got good and wet, and it was well worth it. It is a surreal landscape, and I spent hours searching for plants amongst the rocks. The lack of nutrients also causes trees to be stunted, including Tamarack (Larix laricina), Dwarf birch (Betula pumila), and Common juniper (Juniperus communis).
It was not easy to key out plants in that wet, windy environment, but I was able to identify a few. The park also had a helpful trailside sign identifying some of the local plants. I was soggy but satisfied.
While walking amongst the rocks and plants, I heard a vehicle making a loud rattling sound. I saw a pickup truck on the road slowly rolling back down the hill. When I eventually got back to the parking lot, I saw that no one had stopped to help them. So I went to the vehicle and asked him how I could help, and he asked me for a ride to Woody Point, the next town. Soon after, several vehicles stopped to help. His drive shaft had fallen out of the rear axle, so he was going nowhere. His truck was still on the road, so several of us tried to push the vehicle off the road, but it wouldn’t budge, even when put in neutral. Someone had a tow strap and pulled him off the road, and some other folks offered to give him a ride to town.
I had heard about how strong the Newfoundland accent can be, and I finally had the opportunity to experience it, as many of the folks were local.
And then it was time for me to start my drive back to the ferry terminal, which would be leaving the next day.

On my way to the ferry terminal, I was looking for either a campsite or a place to just pull over for the night. I wanted to be within a half hour of Channel-Port aux Basques, the town with the ferry terminal. I passed by a large, mainly vacant parking lot with the strange sign of ‘Wreckhouse.’ In it, there was one trailer with its stabilizer jacks down, making it look like an okay place to camp. And there were no signs saying ‘no camping’ or the like. In fact, it sorta looked like an open invitation to stay.

And it was beautiful. While it was located along the main road, the parking lot was deep enough to be away from traffic. On one side were the mountains with fields of wildflowers. On the other side was the ocean. How splendid. It was generous of whoever built this parking lot to accommodate travelers. (There was no obvious area to set up a tent, so it was mainly for people who sleep in their vehicles or trailers.) I had arrived before the evening’s golden glow on the plants and landscape and plenty of time to witness and photograph the light and color. I spent the rest of the evening walking amongst and identifying the plants, taking in the view, and watching the sunset over the ocean. Although it was just a big parking lot, it was one of the most beautiful places I had been on this Maritime adventure.

It gets the name ‘Wreckhouse’ due to the high winds that occasionally tear through the area. These were known to blow over trains (yes, trains) and vehicles, and have been recorded at over 120 mph (200 Km/h). And while it was nothing like that when I was there, it was quite blustery. As the evening progressed, a few more vehicles turned up. If you ever go to Newfoundland, I suggest spending part of a day and evening here. And it’s free. I would have liked to have spent another day, but home called.

Some of the local plants included Fireweed (Chamaenerion angustifolium), Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba), Canadian goldenrod (Solidago canadensis), Wild angelica (Angelica sylvestris), Yarrow (Achillea millefolium), and Canadian burnet (Sanguisorba canadensis).

I woke during the night and got out of my van to see the moon and planets in the clear, light-free sky. ‘Twas a wonder.

I awoke early the following morning to watch the sunrise over the mountains. It was worth the wake, watching the sun illuminate the field of flowers. I took it in knowing that I would be steadily driving the next few days to get back home.
Soon after sunrise, I went to the ferry terminal to await the ferry for the 7 hour ride back to the mainland. Once there, I drove into the evening to stay with a friend in mid-Nova Scotia. After breakfast the next morning, I began the drive home. I stopped for a few more photos of plants that I had seen often during this trip but had not photographed, such as Northern bayberry (Myrica pensylvanica), Rabbitfoot clover (Trifolium arvense), and Wild carrot (Daucus carota).
I thought I would do the drive in two days, but knowing the comfort of being back home, I rallied for 16 hours to get there.
I arrived home around 1:30 am. My head was ringing, my body tingling. I knew I should have just gone to sleep, but I was glad to just sit on my couch, window open, and listen to the singing insects. One of the best parts of travel is being back home.