Farewell to Nova Scotia -- for now

DIGBY – Time to say farewell to Nova Scotia, but not before I heave sigh or a wish to return to some great motorcycle roads along its rocky South Shore!

Halifax is a great city, full of friendly folk and some great pubs like the Old Triangle and The Split Crow and some fine restaurants including McKelvie’s and a wicked thin-crust pizza joint called Salvatore’s!

I got my picture taken by two friendly – and unarmed -- security guards at Province House, Nova Scotia’s legislature building. One of the guards even expressed interest in buying my BMW K1200LT once I get to Boston!

That made nine of Canada’s 10 provincial legislatures that allowed me and the Bike-a-Lounger to snap a souvenir photo. Only the pistol-packin’ paramilitary at the Alberta Leg denied me such an opportunity, citing “security,” and motioning me to leave when I asked for details.

A friend said I’m like a dog with a bone about this snub, but, hell, I worked in and around the legislature for nearly 15 years, so it hardly seems fair or logical. After all, it’s supposed to be a place of the people, not just their paranoid self-obsessed representatives.

No wonder our poor, broke province is in such a state of disarray. But enough about that!

Standing on the battlements of the 250-year-old Citadel overlooking Halifax, it was easy to imagine how devastating the 1917 explosion of a munitions ship must have been. The bustling port with Halifax on one shore of Bedford Basin and Dartmouth on the other was even busier during the First World War, when all ships headed for ports on the Atlantic seaboard had to first call at Halifax.

On December 6, 1917, the SS Mont-Blanc, a French cargo ship fully loaded with wartime explosives, was involved in a collision with the Norwegian vessel SS Imo in the Narrows, a strait connecting the upper Halifax Harbour to Bedford Basin.

Approximately twenty minutes later, a fire on board the French ship ignited her explosive cargo, causing a cataclysmic explosion that devastated the Richmond District of Halifax. Approximately 2,000 people were killed by debris, fires and collapsed buildings. It’s estimated that nearly 9,000 more were injured.

The blast was the largest man-made explosion prior to the development of nuclear weapons, with an equivalent force of roughly 2.9 kilotons of TNT!

I headed out of the city on NS Hwy. 333, which winds along the wild and wonderful Atlantic coast. First stop was Peggy’s Cove and its iconic white and red lighthouse. What a beautiful spot! No wonder it’s one of the most visited tourist destinations in Canada!

After snapping a few pics, I hurried to get out of the small village ahead of a convoy of tour buses. I passed the memorial to doomed Swissair Flight 111, but didn’t stop for fear of ending up behind the slow-moving and view-blocking wagon train.

What a sweet ride down the shore through Chester to Lunenburg, home of another Canadian icon, the Bluenose II, a replica of perhaps the greatest racing schooner ever. For 17 years, nothing could touch the Bluenose. A portrait of the ship has graced the reverse of the Canadian dime since 1937.

I stopped for a bowl of fish chowder and a pint of Propeller Bitter at the popular Knot Pub. Oh, so very good!

When I first left home on May 11, I missed my Alberta beef, the best in the world! In a couple more weeks, I know I’m going to miss the fresh seafood – cod, halibut, scallops, mussels and especially lobster -- of Canada’s Atlantic provinces, again the best the world has to offer!

Back on the road, I continued to wander south on NS Hwy. 332, past little coves and bays on my left with fishing boats, sailboats large and small and the occasional motor cruiser – stinkpots, as Bob, my sailing-mad father-in-law would have called them – riding at anchor! On my right, villages such as Mahone Bay, Rose Bay and Pleasantville with tidy, colourful houses contrasting with the blue of the ocean and the greens of the forests that run almost to the shore!

As I’ve said before, every region of Canada has its own special beauty, but this part of the Maritimes can hold its own with any and all of the rest!

I spent the night in Bridgewater, falling asleep as soon as I kicked my boots off! Salt air has always had that effect on me, especially in Carnlough, my mother’s village in Co. Antrim, Northern Ireland. Maybe that’s why I love to visit there as often as I can.

It rained overnight and for some reason, I woke up grumpy. Maybe it was the gun-metal grey skies. Maybe it was the overly cheerful server at breakfast who stood near my table yelling “Good morning, sweetie!” to every motel guest as they entered the dining room. God, I hate being called dearie, sweetie, hon and all the other terms of endearment complete strangers think is appropriate.

I fled before finishing the mediocre meal. My mood brightened considerably at the local Tim Horton coffee shop. Not only do a lot of Tim’s provide reserved parking for motorcycles, I like their coffee and the convenience of my fully loaded Tim card!

As I was sipping and plotting my course for the day, a guy came over and started up a conversation, noting my Alberta licence plate. When I told him I was headed to Digby via Liverpool, he showed me the best way to go to get in some good twists and turns and some more spectacular marine scenery. And he was right!

And just as I was heading out of town, I crossed paths with folk artist Norman Vienott. When – not if -- I return to this part of Nova Scotia, I’ll stop here again and pick up one of his eclectic and eccentric scrap-metal creations. I just didn’t have room on the bike or maybe this fellow rider would be gracing my backyard a few weeks from now!

I made a little detour to snap a pic of the Italy Cross road sign for mio amico Franco back in Edmonton. I’ve done this on a number of occasions and, as oft-times before, it has led me through some amazingly beautiful countryside I might not have otherwise visited. Grazie, paisan!

I rolled on through two neighbouring villages East Berlin and West Berlin, wondering if the inhabitants are aware the Cold War is over! It’s a reflection of the area’s early German settlers, as is Lunenburg, New Germany and several more communities.

Next came Brooklyn, birthplace of country music legend Hank Snow! One of Hank’s greatest hits was his North American version of I’ve Been Everywhere (which was written by Australian Geoff Mack.) While this version features Johnny Cash, it might be one of the coolest motorcycle video I’ve ever seen!

Then I stopped for another coffee at another Tim’s in Liverpool, where two bikers in their 70s chatted with me, swapping tales of the road as we sipped our double-doubles. They pointed out the route to Digby and advised me to make sure I stopped in beautiful Kejimkujik National Park. (Dead battery in my camera meant I  had to scalp this pic from the Parks Canada website.)

I first got this advice while staying with my friend Pete in Jasper what seems like an eternity ago. Pete’s Nova Scotia friend also told how the locals pronounce the Mi’kmac name – kedgy-muh-KOO-ji. The word means “swollen waters” or “tired muscles” in the language of the local Aboriginal people

By the time I arrived in this picturesque seaside village on the shore of the Bay of Fundy, I was starving, another effect of sea air. I was more than ready to sample the “world famous Digby scallops!” Trust me, that’s no exaggeration! Washed down half-a-dozen of ‘em, wrapped in bacon, with an Oland’s Export as I took in the scene from the seaside deck of the Fundy Restaurant. Another feast!

I was dismayed to find I’d arrived a week early for the annual Wharf Rat Rally. Oh, well, next time.

And there definitely will be a next time! I can’t wait to share the sights, smells and tastes of this beautiful region with Mindy.

Tomorrow I catch the ferry for the three-hour crossing of the Bay of Fundy to Saint John, New Brunswick, my final stop on this 18,000-kilometer ride across Canada. Then, I’ll head into Maine for a ride down the Atlantic Coast through New England to Boston and a reunion with my wonderful and patient wife!

In the meantime, there’s still time to make a donation to my Ride for Sight. The money goes to the Foundation Fighting Blindness to fund Canadian researchers looking into the causes and prevention of blindness. Please consider making a donation here to their work.

Ride for Sight is Canada’s largest and longest-running motorcycle charity endeavour. Bikers cover their own expenses so that every penny raised goes to the foundation.

(One final beef before I sign off. The administrators of the Cobourg Yesteryears Facebook page about my hometown banned me and my blog from the site “because it was about asking for donations!” That’s hardly what this blog or this ride is about.

To them I say not all blindness is related to eyesight and I would no longer want to be on such a site. Thanks for dropping me!)