So, with my cheery wave goodbye to Natasha, I was off on my journey towards the Vikings of America. I had a chance to check the map this morning and can see where the confusion of last night arose. You can see from the map above that the Trans-Canada Highway does indeed travel north along the west coast, but then swings east to the Province Capital City of St.Johns. Hence the road sign TCH EAST, but since there are no other roads east, south or west in Port aux Basques, a single 'TCH - ALL ROUTES' would surely be a clearer indicator that unless you wanted the town then go this way. Oh well, at least I got to sleep in a ditch and speak with a beautiful young Canadian girl.
The road unwound in front of me, and I must say that I possessed much more enthusiasm for discovering new panoramas than the panoramas were showing me. This land is mainly a jumble of rocks. These rocks harbour vegetation, but it cannot be farmed in many places as the soil is almost none existent and waterlogged except in some more blessed areas of the country. Otherwise there is the logging of course, in Canada there is always the logging option.
The road was a long corridor of low bushes and trees with the occasional gravel road branching off, and glimpses of mountains to my left. The sea I knew was a few miles to my right but I never caught any glimpses of it. Before I knew it I reached my turn off to get petrol and coffee in Stephenville.
One thing you cannot miss in Stephenville is the airfield. It is huge. The petrol pump attendant, (yes they still have those in most of America), told me that it was built originally as a refuelling stop for ferrying bombers to Britain during WWII and then to house B-52 bombers of the American Strategic Bomber Command as it was not far to Russia from here across the North Pole. He told me that most of the town was once part of the Air Force Base; shopping mall, hospital, bowling alley and such. Then the cold war ended, the Berlin Wall came down and Russia no longer posed a threat. The whole set up, including some of the longest bombproof concrete airfield runways in Canada, were sold to the town council for $1. And only then because it is illegal for the American military to give anything away free. So now they have runways two and a quarter miles long with about half a dozen 2 and 4 seat prop. aircraft sitting on the tarmac. Although it does boast a weekly service to St.John's and Toronto. It's the same 'plane, stopping off on it's way from Toronto to St.John's, then stopping again when it flies back from St.John's to Toronto on the return journey.
"But," the pump attendant said with a grin, "if we ever want to bomb Moscow, we can do it from here."
B-52
One of the grease monkeys, who was in the shop where you pay, asked me why I was wearing my 'snow suit' this time of year, I had to explain that it was a motorcycle suit that was made from very tough fabric, tougher than the traditional leathers, and contained padded body armour to protect my 'bony hard points' in the event that I came off the 'bike.
Just a few hundred yards further along was a fast food outlet and I had a second breakfast of bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns and coffee, along with a brief conversation with some French-Canadian motorcyclist who made it apparent that they disliked speaking English.
I took the back road out of Stephenville to ward off joining Highway 1, the Trans-Canada, for as long as possible because I found it boring. However, when I rejoined it the scenery was not boring at all, maybe the breakfast had something to do with that. The Deer Lake valley is very scenic and quite different to the countryside I had passed through. The air seemed 'softer' and the grass greener, no doubt the lake having an effect on the micro-climate here. Signs to the small town of Pasadena set me singing the old Temperance Seven hit revival of the sixties, but this can't be the one in the song because that was 'Home, on the western plain', and this was no plain.
Pasadena slip road on Highway 1, The Trans-Canada Highway
Coming into Deer Lake, there were some road works on the last few hundred yard of the causeway there. The three lanes of traffic came to a halt at the roadwork lights and I noticed that under the green light was a fourth light with a LED countdown on it. It showed about 200 secs remaining, (3mins 20secs) so I was able to switch the engine off and look around me.People in the cars and camper vans were getting out, having a stretch, swapping over drivers, all sorts of things; and all because we all knew how long we had left to wait until the green light. What a marvellous invention! Everyone knew what was happening, no irritation or fuss, and when there were 10secs remaining, engines were starting, doors slamming and when the green came on we were away.
Deer Lake
At Deer Lake I left Highway 1 and took 'The Viking Trail', a road that carries on along the west coast of Newfoundland and leads to the furthest point north. Here at Deer Lake, the Trans- Canadian Highway does begin to bend its way eastwards, but I still think it strange that for the last 200miles all the signs persist on calling it the 'EAST' route when we I have been riding along the western side of Newfoundland.
The scenery was now becoming even better as I rode down the winding valley road that leads eventually to Gros Morne National Park. The roads were steep, and the low loader I was following was in difficulties judging by the amount of smoke coming off of his rear brakes. He was carrying a large bulldozer, how many tons I don't know, but a lot. The trouble is that the hotter the brakes become the less effective they are, so you need to use them more and they get hotter still. The brake fluid then begins to boil and things get worse until the seals burst, the oil ignites and a disaster occurs. The driver must have been really pleased to see the long lay-by half way down to Rocky Harbour, and he pulled over with squealing brakes and acrid blue smoke that had been choking me for the last five minutes.
Gros Morne National Park, lots of 'wow' factor here!
I paid for my permit at the Rangers Station at the park entrance and talking to the Rangers there about what I preferred as a campsite, they told me that Green Bay may be just what I was looking for. I found it up the road 20 minutes later, and they were right. It was just what I was looking for.
Miles today = 326
Total Miles = 908
Tomorrow: The ideal campsite.
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