Lighthouse-Not, Hiking Heaven, Friendly People

Not a lighthouse in our book

The two days we camped in the Fundy National Park were sunny, bright and brisk, perfect for hiking and taking in coastal views of the Bay of Fundy as the tides fluctuated by about 30 feet. The first day we decided to drive along the coast to Cape Enrage where we understood there was a spectacular view and a lighthouse you could tour. The drive there was scenic but when we arrived, there was no tour. The view was pretty much what we had seen from the road, and the “lighthouse” was only a green channel marker housed in a lighthouse-like building. We had paid $4 each and were miffed. “So that’s why it’s called Cape Enrage,” I said. “After you see what you’ve paid for, you’re enraged.” We continued driving farther along the coastline, but decided to forego another highly-touted attraction, Hopewell Rocks, which charges $8.50 a person to walk at low tide among flowerpot rocks. 

The next day we drove around the park itself and went on several hikes, each one different: coastal, Acadian forest, marsh/bog.... My favorite was Dickson Falls trail with a boardwalk that followed a mossy stream part of the way. Most of the park has been logged. The streams were dammed and polluted by the logging, which destroyed the salmon fisheries. The fishermen complained, but logging was the biggest industry at the time. 60 years ago the logging stopped and since then the forests and streams have been recovering. Fisheries restoration is also underway. 

When we left the park the next morning, we stopped at the dumping station to discharge the holding tanks. Another RV pulled up, a woman opened the passenger door and cheerily started asking me where we’ve been and where we were going. They were from Austin, Texas. We chatted until the dumping was done, about 15 or 20 minutes. “We’ll probably see you along the way,” I said. “I hope so,” she said. 

This fella was hanging out in a drainage pipe. 

We’ve met many friendly Canadian and American campers. One afternoon I was doing laundry. (Most campgrounds have a laundry room.) A man was sitting in the adjacent lounge, reading a book. I sat down and started talking with him. He lived inland, a couple of hours away. He and his wife wanted to be near the ocean and decided to go camping for 3 weeks. “What have you been doing all that time?” I asked. “Mostly sculpting,” he said. “Also taking long walks on the beach with the dog.” We talked until our laundry was done, and later I met his wife and dog. (He was sculpting masks out of some kind of plastic, I think.) We met a nice couple from Alberta who lent us a 30-amp power extension cord at one campground when our cord just couldn’t reach. We met a friendly couple from Maryland in front of the caves at low tide. Just this morning another camper wandered over as we were getting ready to leave. He was a retired trucker from Prince Edward Island. He had driven all over the U.S. and Canada and had a wealth of information that he was only too eager to share. He did divulge some of his hard-earned knowledge, but unfortunately, we had to leave. Meeting all kinds of friendly, interesting fellow travelers has been one of the delightful commonalities land cruising has with ocean cruising.

Fun in the Fog on the Fundy Trail

St. Martins near Fundy Trail

The Fundy Trail is a road and a multi-use trail (hiking and biking) that follows the Fundy Bay coast for about 7 or 8 miles. It’s winding and hilly and has many observation lookouts and scenic footpaths. Unfortunately today was very foggy, but we were here so we went anyway. Although we couldn’t see much from most of the observation platforms, in fact, sometimes we could hardly see the road, we were able to see some of the highlights, including some waterfalls, a suspension bridge, a burial ground and an interesting 10-minute video at the interpretive center that explained some historical background. We spent a couple hours in the morning, came back to the campsite for lunch, then went back for more. 

Standing on the ocean floor at low tide

The second time, David brought his bike and rode much of the multi-use trail for about an hour and a half while I walked the Flowerpot Rock trail. “How was it?” I asked when he finished. “Difficult. It was one of the most difficult rides I’ve ever done. At times I was only going two and a half miles an hour.” So he was happy to have gotten a good workout. I was happy to have seen the flowerpot rock and have taken a nice hike. On the way back to the campsite we stopped and walked out to some caves that are only accessible at low tide. 

The Easy Life

After the mad, foolish dash to get here, we’ve slowed down and had a pleasant few days. 

First we went to Campobello Island, best known as the summer residence of FDR. It’s just off the northeastern tip of the U.S. connected to Maine by bridge. We had electric hook-up, but not water, so we were frugal with the water so we wouldn’t have to hook up the trailer and pull it to the water spigot to fill up. We drove the 10 miles of gravel road in the Roosevelt Campobello International Park and stopped to look at foggy vistas. 

Then we visited Roosevelt’s home--the man sure had an interesting life, but also his family had loads of money, and he had servants that took care of the children and the house, so he had time and money to pursue various interests. Then we drove to the north end (the island is less than 9 miles long) and spotted finback whales in Fundy Bay. We went on a 3.5 mile hike in Herring Cove Park, where we were camping, first along a pebbly beach difficult to walk on and then through the woods. I was tired by the time we got back, but David hopped on his bike and went back to the roads we had driven on in the morning for a good, long bike ride. 

In the morning we drove back across the bridge to Maine, up to Calais and then across the border into New Brunswick again. Right now we’re staying in a campground in St. Andrews. This campground is probably more typical of the type we’ll end up in--a glorified, grassy/gravely parking lot. But, we’ve got full hook-up, which is a treat. It means we can take long showers without worrying about running out of water or filling up the holding tank. Also, the campground is very convenient to downtown. St. Andrews reminds us very much of Beaufort, without the boardwalk, but a very pleasant downtown along the water with nice restaurants and shops. 

Many of the attractions are closed already for the season, but today we visited St. Croix International Historic Site, where in 1604 79 French settlers spent a winter (and many died). A volunteer gave us a fascinating overview of the Charlotte County Gaol and Courthouse and then we wandered around the extensive Kingsbrae Garden, which has a unique sculpture garden set among wild and unkempt plants. We came back to the trailer, got on our bikes and rode along a nearby trail for a mile or so. I returned to the trailer, while David rode the trail again (faster and harder, of course.) 

We see a lot of older retirees driving huge RV’s. Ours looks puny in comparison, but we don’t need anything bigger unless to give the cats more room! 

Made It to Maine...with Help

Our campsite in Greenbelt

We left later than we had planned. Actually we left two days later, but we felt as ready as possible on Wednesday (9/15) morning and still didn’t leave until 11:30 a.m. This was okay because our first stop was only 4.5 hours away. In fact, it took us 7.5 hours because of traffic and a few stops, which tend to take longer because of the cats and because we have lunch in the trailer. So, for now on we’ll tack on a couple extra hours for long drives. By the time we arrived, David was tired but our campsite in Greenbelt National Park was pleasant.

David slaving in the kitchen

Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to linger, and the following morning we had breakfast and left. The day didn’t start out too well. Immediately upon leaving, the GPS directed us to the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. “No trucks!” read David. “What do we do?” “Don’t get on it,” I said, “I’ll reprogram the GPS.” David kept driving while the GPS was reprogramming. It was taking forever to reroute us. “Oh no, we’re headed downtown! This is a nightmare,” said David, imagining us dragging our 30' trailer around the White House. “It’s just like driving around the Arc de Triomphe at rush hour in Paris all over again,” I said, but really, it wasn’t a big deal. “Just pull into that shopping center while the GPS finishes.” In a couple minutes it had rerouted us, and we were soon merrily on our way on I-95. 

Our campsite at Kettletown State Park, CT

We stopped at the first Maryland Welcome Center we came to. I got a state map and also a “cheat sheet” telling us exactly where RV’s headed north should go. We followed the cheat sheet over bridges and on toll roads. (Tolls cost a total of $76.80 this one day.) There was a lot of traffic, a lot of getting on and off various highways and a lot of switching lanes to keep in the proper lane. This was very tiring and also only the fourth day that David had pulled the trailer. It required a lot of focus. He especially disliked the temporary concrete construction barriers on the highway as they made the lanes even narrower. Once we crossed the Tappen Zee bridge over the Hudson, the GPS was in charge again. We were on I-87 headed toward I-684 when the GPS told us to get on the Saw Mill River Parkway in New York. “It says ‘passenger cars only’” said David. I didn’t have time to consult the map and had already looked at all the restricted roads for RV’s. “I don’t know why,” I said. “It’s probably okay.” Foolishly, we got on the parkway. It started to climb steeply. “Maybe it’s because of the steep hills,” said David. I looked on the map and saw that it was a shortcut to I-684. “We’ve only got a short way to go on this,” I said. After several miles we came to a low bridge. “We can’t go under that bridge!” exclaimed David in a panic. Our RV is 10.5 feet to the top of the a/c unit, and the bridge had only an 8.5 foot clearance. Fortunately, there was an off-ramp right before the bridge. “Get off that ramp!” I pointed. David got off. “Oh God,” said David clutching his forward in his hand. “That would have been a disaster.” We were driving along a city street. I looked on the map, but it didn’t have enough detail. The GPS directed us along some streets and then back to the parkway, at a point past the low bridge. Like idiots, we got on the parkway a second time. “This isn’t a good idea,” said David. “We’ve only got about nine more miles to go before the Interstate,” I said. “We’ll never make it,” said David. He was exhausted by hours of difficult driving. “What if we come upon another 8 foot bridge? What do we do? Rip off the top of our trailer? Stop all the traffic on the parkway?” We really didn’t know what was ahead of us. We came to a stop at a red light, and Providence intervened.  The woman in the car next to us rolled down her window and said, “You, know, you’re not supposed to be on this road.” She explained that there were low bridges ahead. She said we could get off here and use our GPS to find another way to the Interstate. David turned right off the Parkway and started to climb a steep hill. I deleted the Saw Mill Parkway from the GPS route, and it soon found another, somewhat circuitous route to the Interstate, but no low bridges. “That would have been ugly,” said David clutching his forehead. 

By this time he was ready to call it a day. I found a campground closer than we had planned--Kettletown State Park in Connecticut. On our way there, we took a wrong turn and found ourselves climbing and descending a steep, narrow, winding road with no place to turn around. After a few miles we came to an intersection, turned around, and David raced back up and down the hills, eager to get to our destination. By the time we reached the campground, the brakes were "smoking". This park was beautiful but charged $30 and no hookups! We backed into the campsite, which was on a slant, and got the cats into the trailer. It started to rain, then to pour. David was too tired to put down the stabilizing jacks. Then we discovered that we were almost out of power. The battery should have been charged by the truck during the day, but didn’t. Evidently, something is wrong with the connection. “I can’t fix it now,” said David. “It will take 3 or 4 hours.” We did what we could with what little power we had. Around 8:00, the rain stopped, and we decided to set up the generator since “quiet time” wasn’t until 10. So we dragged the 100-pound generator out of the truck bed and plugged in the trailer. Later that evening David sat at the table clutching his forehead. “David,” I said, “we didn’t hit the bridge, so stop thinking about it. We learned our lesson.” “It would have been ugly,” said David again. “That woman saved us. It’s not that she was the guardian angel, the guardian angel was speaking through her.” The next day we drove without incident to Bangor, Maine. Overall, a successful first few days. The trailer is intact, and we’ve learned many lessons. 

The Cats

"What are we doing here?"

"Who me? I didn't do it!" Plato

We covered the back seat of our truck with towels and set up the cats with food, water, scratching pad, cat bed and a toy rat stuffed with catnip. They can crawl through the window into the truck bed and use the kitty litter box back there. The first day, Neptune stayed in my lap the whole time, and Plato stayed on the armrest between us. They complained a little but settled down. They didn’t eat, drink or use the kitty litter until we put them in the trailer. They seem to like the trailer okay because it doesn’t move. The second day, Neptune complained a little, but Plato took a more subtle route. Our GPS mount won’t stay on the window, so I put it in the cup holder in front of the armrest. Suddenly the GPS was telling us to get off the highway and go the opposite direction. “Is that right?” said David. “No!” I said. “It can’t be. Ignore it.” I checked the GPS, and we were headed home. The second time it happened, I knew what was going on. Plato was reprogramming the GPS, the sly little devil! The GPS was right at his feet. He tried this sneaky maneuver several times over the next few days, but I was on to his little trick, so he didn’t succeed in redirecting us home. For the most part, both cats are doing very well, considering no one asked them if they wanted to go to Canada. They probably would have said, “And be bounced along in a noisy truck for hundreds of miles and hours a day and then be cooped up in a little trailer? No Thanks!”

First Night

We picked up our new travel trailer August 28 from Mocksville (near Winston-Salem.) We plan to leave September 13 for a 7-week trip to the Maritimes. Before setting off on our first journey, we thought we should do a mini dry-run, just to make sure everything worked okay. So, on September 4, we pulled the trailer (sans cats) to David's sister's house in Swansboro, two and a half hours away. Although it was Labor Day weekend, traffic was light both ways since we left on Saturday mid-day and returned the following day, avoiding peak holiday travel. The biggest challenge was getting out of our driveway, which is steep, curves and has a big dip at the top. The dip turned out to be the biggest obstacle. We discovered that our trailer is a little low to the ground and won't clear the dip. David put boards down under the truck's wheels to lift everything up. Sounds easy enough, but it took more than an hour to get the trailer out, just as it did to back it down the driveway to begin with. But we succeeded both times.

We slept in the trailer and discovered that the mattress has prominent wires that stick in your back. Well, that's solvable. Our tiny bedroom has a sliding door, which I wanted so that one of us could sleep when the other one got up. Well, David got up in the morning, closed the door and proceeded to make his coffee. What I didn't realize is that the water pump is incredibly loud. "Just like on the boat," said David. "I don't remember it being so loud," I said. Also, the boat was bigger and laid out much differently. Can't do anything about the water pump, says David.
As I lay in bed listening to the water pump cycle on, the bed shook as David moved around the camper. He hadn't put down the stabilizing jacks the day before. Yep, sure am glad we have them but no sleeping in this morning. The other rather annoying discovery is that the water faucet in the bathroom is so close to the edge that you can't really get your hands under it, and water dribbles over the edge and pools in the corner. Perhaps we can replace it with another RV fixture, but for now we'll just have to keep a towel on the counter. All the other systems worked fine, except that all the fresh water mysteriously disappeared before we got home, and we know we didn't use 36 gallons of water in one night! Well, David's not worried, so we'll just have to wait and see about that. Maybe he didn't fill it up. All in all we're happy with the trailer, and at least we'll never have to worry about dragging anchor!

Plato and Neptune sharing a couch

In case you're wondering, the trailer is a 2011 North Trail 26rks. It is about 30 feet long, but the body itself is 26 feet long. Its "dry" weight is 5500 pounds, which is pretty light for this size camper. It has one slide, which makes the living area a bit roomier. I had wanted another trailer that had a second slide in the bedroom, which made it more spacious and allowed room for a dresser and sliding mirror closets. But that trailer weighed 6500 pounds, and David was uncomfortable dragging all that weight to Alaska with our Ford F150 truck. Our camper has lots of storage space and a kitchen in the rear, which gives it a little more counter space. After looking at dozens of trailers all over the place, we decided this one most closely met our needs.