The Land of Acadia

Fresh Cape Breton Snow Crab and Lobster!

The northwestern coast of Cape Breton Island is part of Acadia, a term that describes the locations where descendants of French settlers in northeastern North America live. The Acadians of Cape Breton are unique, however, in their language, which blends French, Scottish, and English. It is quite distinctive, with a strong accent that can be difficult to understand. Imagine someone speaking French with a thick Scottish accent and a bit of a southern drawl! It sounds similar to the Creole language of the Louisiana bayous, which is a mix of French, Spanish, English, and African influences.

Last night, we stayed in the tiny fishing village of Cheticamp and enjoyed another incredible seafood dinner, caught fresh that day. Our servers were fluent in both Acadian French and English, but listening to their conversations with the locals was fascinating and unintelligible!

During the night, a storm hit the area, bringing low clouds, rain, and high winds. It was still going when we woke up in the morning. However, by the time we finished breakfast, the rain had subsided and was not expected to return for the rest of the day. The low clouds remained, along with the wind. While the clouds were a bit disheartening as they might block our views along our ride today, which were supposed to be majestic, the wind was in our favor once again, pushing us along as we got started.

Entering Cape Breton Highlands National Park

About half an hour into our ride, we entered Cape Breton Highlands National Park. It was immediately evident that we were entering a special area: rain-drenched virgin spruce forests surrounded us. The park ranger at the entry kiosk provided us with a map and information on what to expect in terms of roads, inclines, and wildlife. We were advised to be cautious of black bears, moose, and coyotes. Apparently, the coyotes are currently the most dangerous, as they hunt in packs and have been known to attack and even kill park visitors (yikes!). I was hopeful for a moose sighting, but the coyote warning unnerved me. The gloomy weather and dense forest did nothing to reassure us that we wouldn’t be attacked!

Then the road climbed and opened up to a breathtaking vista, both awe-inspiring and intimidating as I wondered how I would manage the climbs ahead. But up we went; it wasn’t as bad as I had imagined, and the views were spectacular despite the low clouds (or maybe because of them!).

The Cabot Trail

We climbed up, up, up—1,200 feet in 3 miles—until we reached the top of the French mountain pass at 1,330 feet. By the time we got to the top, we were riding in the clouds. The landscape opened up to reveal a highland covered with stunted, weather-worn spruce, bogs, ponds, and lakes—ideal for moose sightings! My eyes were peeled, but unfortunately, all I saw was a sign indicating that moose are definitely

spotted up there.

Moose country on the Cape Breton Highlands.

We continued across this fascinating landscape until the road turned a corner, and we began our descent, with plenty of turnouts to admire the views of the coastline far below. At first, it looked like the sun was breaking through the cloud cover, and then, suddenly, we found ourselves in bright sunshine! What a transformation! We went from moody, cloudy, rain-soaked landscapes to brilliant sunshine and views of a deep blue sea below. Down we sailed and arrived in the town of Pleasant Bay—more of a loose collection of homes than a traditional town—where we were to stay.

We stopped at a tourist shop selling Cabot Trail memorabilia and bought some obligatory stickers for our bike gear. We also got milkshakes. I had made a special request for this, as today, June 11, is my father's birthday. He would have been 97 today. This was his first birthday without him, and I was missing him keenly. I felt that he was with me on the ride; he has always inspired me to take these journeys. I had hoped to celebrate his birthday with a slice of German chocolate cake, his favorite, but I knew that wouldn't be found in this out-of-the-way location, so I settled for another of his favorites: a vanilla milkshake.

Happy Birthday, Dad.