Breakfast, though served at a big family table, was a dignified affair with my host dressed in Chef's attire and serving coffee with a silver carafe while Acadian music played in the background. On the menu were eggs from his daughter's farm, homemade sausages and preserves, which I felt obligated to sample each one. The cranapple jam, which he had brought back from Newfoundland, was particularly interesting with a sweet/sour mix.
But even though it was going to be a short day, I had to get on the road eventually. I followed Route 11 towards the centre of Caraquet but stopped in to view the Sanctuaire de Sainte-Anne-de-Bocage.
There wasn't anywhere to leave my bike so I could not find out why there was a big tent and outside benches and an outside Confessional but when I later visited the Acadian museum in town, the curator explained to me that the Sanctuaire has been a place of pilgrimage for local Acadians of the Peninsula since the mid-nineteenth century. There is apparently a miraculous source of fresh water on the site that always runs from the ground.
Further along I came across the bike path that cuts across the 11 and leads into town so I decide to take it since the town went to the trouble of paving their section of the Sentier NB Trail.
While I am taking my picture, a couple of lady cyclists stop and we chat for a moment. They are from Bathurst and one of them is enjoying her first year of retirement.
I carry on into town and visit the harbour and the Acadian museum. It is a small, but interesting institution with lots of local history mostly related, not surprisingly, to Catholic priests and missionaries since they played such a pivotal role in any Acadian or Quebec community. Being the only one there, the museum curator spent a lot of time to explain the various exhibits.
I could not help noticing that it cost more for me to buy a gelato later by the wharf than it did to visit the museum. I did have the sugar cone, though.
Caraquet has a Fisheries school in addition to its wharf facilities.
I figure I have pretty well done Caraquet after the gelato so I catch a road that intersects the bike path and start heading towards Tracadie-Sheila.
The path is in fairly good condition but, like many rural paved paths, such as the northern section of "Le Petit Train du Nord", you end up getting sections that become rippled like a wash board that can be hard on the hands and butt.
The paved portion ends at the edge of town and it is back to the regular Sentier NB Trail although this section is not in the best condition from the recent rains and also appears designed for Quad riding not biking; at least nothing less than a mountain bike.
I'm tempted to take the road a couple of Times but I decide to tough it out since the terrain is flat it isn't far to go. After a lot of slaloming around puddles and large stones I come to the junction for Shippigan on the left and Tracadie-Sheila on the right.
The sign says I have another 21 kilometers to go! This trail is turning a short day into a tedious long one. There is supposed to be a bridge just around the corner so decide to stick to the trail a bit longer. But just around the corner....
I manage to scrape around the fallen tree and carry on. Thankfully, the bridge is just 5 minutes further on. I take my pictures and then find the quickest road to my destination.
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| Surly taking a break |
Once clear of the bridge, I find a road that takes me to Route 11. The 11 is more like a highway in this area with 100 km speed limit but there is a very wide shoulder so I am well away from the traffic.
My short day, which I had thought would be about 35 km turned out to be 47 instead with half of it through muck and gravel. Still haven't learned my lesson about staying on the road.
I was all ready to blast the Sentier NB Trail but then I picked up a cycling map at the hotel in Tracadie-Sheila that showed that the section I just rode is a "planned" bike path. I love how municipalities publish shit they "plan" to do in some undefined future. Then they don't have to admit there is no infrastructure at all.
The clerk at the hotel suggested Capitaine Frank as a good place to eat, which it was. Strangely, it was about the only non-franchise restaurant I cane across in my walk through town and it was hidden behind the main street by itself.
After dinner, I walked to the other side of the main street to find the shore promenade. Bizarrely, access at each end is through the back parking lot of the main street stores with no real indication on the street about its existence.
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| For God's Sake, Don't Get Out of Your Car! |
Not sure what the sign is supposed to signify but it indicates the end of the day for me. I've prattled on a bit here because it announces rain for the next three days so it will be RnR (Riding n Rain) and not much else till the Confederation bridge.
Looking forward to meeting up with Joe at Shediac.
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