Well Kim and I have finally reached what has been our goal for over 40 years. On the 4th of July 2015, we retired from the corporate world. No more suits, no more ties, no more deadlines. After spending decades doing what others wanted us to do, it’s finally our turn to go out and play. I’ve even started the beard that I’ve always wanted.
To mark our new found freedom, we’ve decided to try an around the world journey. For now, we’re just going to do a little shakedown run to ease into the retirement waters. We’re heading north from our home and will take a route that will take us from NH, through VT, Quebec via the Gaspe Peninsula, Labrador via the Trans Labrador Highway, Newfoundland via parts of the Trailway, Nova Scotia and ME.
Then we’ll take some time off to sell our home and many belongings so that we can make our way around the rest of the world.
I’ll be on a 2011 KTM 990 Adventure and Kim will be on a 2013 Suzuki DR650.
Although both have been somewhat farkelized I can’t leave good enough alone. Kim’s DR needs something more to make it worthy. So I’ve added some Barkbusters, a 5 gallon Acerbis tank, a swoopy high mount front fender and relocated her well used windshield lower.
For a detailed ride report with pictures, please click here:
We’ll also have a Spot satellite tracker so you can watch us as we make our way and you can find it here:
We’ll update our ride report with pictures and text constantly, so remember to come back often. Please note that there are multiple pages at this ride report, so click on the page number at the bottom or top of the page as the ride report gets longer (you’ll see a block at the top or bottom of the page that says Page X of Y).
A new private message arrived in my ADVRider email account and I opened it with unbridled anticipation. You see, the message was in response to our listing on the “Tent Space” thread where we offer food and lodging in our home to adventure riding motorcycle travellers. We’ve hosted travellers in our NH home from as far away as Australia and we’ve enjoyed every minute. We’ve generated new friendships and been able to share a bit of our country with people from other parts of the world.
It turns out that this traveller was not from very far away, in fact he was from Brooklyn, NY. He was finishing up a three week sortie of the Trans Labrador Highway, Newfoundland and Nova Scotia. Awesome! The Trans Lab loop was one of our favorite rides which we had last ridden 2007. We were anxious to meet the rider, hear about the Trans Lab and what he experienced during this trip.
We emailed our potential guest back and told him that we would be delighted to have him come and stay with us. We had a few back and forth contact emails and around 10:00 PM as we sat around the fire pit of our little VT getaway home, we could hear the familiar sound of a single cylinder motorcycle coming up our gravel mountain road.
We left our little fire and greeted our guest Ben Recchi. What a great person. We fed him some dinner since he hadn’t eaten in quite a while and had been on the road since early in the day. We stayed up and chatted until well past midnight talking about the Trans Lab, his and our travels, where we’d been, what we’d seen and where we’d like to go.
It turns out that Ben had been to many other places on a bike, including Central America more than once. To do so, he learned Spanish and was capable of communicating with the people he met. This made his journey more enjoyable and helped him share a little about himself with the communities he came in contact with. He really enjoyed Central America and said he would be happy to return.
We told him about our experiences and where we had been and a little about what we had seen. We briefly discussed our trips to Ushuia, Iceland and the Trans American Trail and we all agreed that riding to different parts of the world was an excellent way to learn and share. We probably could have talked longer, but it was getting late and Ben had to get back to Brooklyn and we were pretty tired. So we all adjourned for a good night’s rest.
The following morning, we chatted some more over breakfast and found that we were all also MotoGP and Formula 1 fans. Wow, another thing in common. Ben had planned to leave fairly early in the morning but when I told him that I had DVR’d the MotoGP race, I was able to convince him that he should stay a while longer and at least watch the race with us. With the remote and the skip commercial button, we could get the race watched and done in less than 45 minutes.
So we sat in the living room and watched the race together, commenting on what was happening in the race and the championship, who was going where at the end of the season and all the fun things that fans discuss when they are enjoying their sports of choice. It was like having a long term buddy in our living room, not just someone we’d met the evening earlier.
So after the race was completed, the victor announced and the trophies handed out, Ben started to pack for his final leg of his three week journey. We helped him load up his bike, took a few pictures of our new friend and wished him safe travels on his way home to Brooklyn. It was with real regret that I watched him motor down my driveway and onto the gravel road down the mountain back towards his home in NY.
We had made a new friend and shared some mutual experiences. We found much in common in the less than 24 hours that we shared together. We broke bread together and learned about each other, all in the spirit of friendship and sharing that is brought about by adventure motorcycling. What a great way to learn about other people and shrink the planet. Although in this case Ben was not from a far away land, we did share and we did make a new friendship. We were invited to come and visit him in his home when we came by his way.
So even though the distances between our respective homes was not great, I believe that the sharing that we did together did indeed…
Shrink The Planet, One Ride At A Time.
Get out there and shrink the planet a bit, please.
With significant regret we left our roadside whale watching motorized perches and rode on towards Blanc Sablon. I was somewhat gloomy leaving such a sight, and the darkening weather matched my mood. Overhead clouds were gathering and the skies brooded and darkened. By the time we reached our hotel, a cold misty fog surrounded us. We were looking forward to a nice warm room and a hot dinner. We were able to accomplish both and fell into the rack for a good nights rest.
We awoke to overcast and heavy rain. It seems like each time we visited Newfoundland it rained and it looked like this visit would be no different. I dressed and we packed our bags for mounting on the bikes. It was while I was mounting the bags on our bikes that an older gentleman approached and quietly watched for a while. I clearly remember him. He was wearing a clear raincoat and a yellow Gloucester fisherman’s hat. I noticed he was wearing a Cessna belt buckle and he had the pilot’s wrinkles around his eyes from squinting into the sun. Just by looking at him, I could tell that this man had had some adventures of his own. Nearby, a tour bus idled its rough and slow diesel drone and he looked at it disdainfully. He would then watch me packing in the rain with a look of longing and desire. It truly appeared like he was ready to jump on and ride
After a while, he walked a bit closer and asked where we were headed and where we had come from. I told him that we had ridden from our house in New Hampshire and we were headed to Newfoundland. We chatted a bit about the trip so far and what the Trans Labrador Highway had been like. While we stood there in the rain, he looked me in the eye and looked over to the bus he would later board and he said, “I wish I was traveling with you.” You know what, if I’d had the space on the bike, I would have taken him along. Pilots have to stick together you know.
Before we knew it we were in line for the ferry getting ready to ride churning grey misty seas. Finally this signal was given and we rode our bikes aboard, tied them down and made our way to find some seating for the trip. Even though the trip started in the morning, the entire ride was dark and rainy. A few ghostly icebergs silently passed in the distance their silhouettes a grainy shadow against a backdrop of white-capped grey and green. A few whale and dolphins passed, breaking the water’s surface, spouting and seemingly pointing out the way. It seemed that in no time, we had arrived in Newfoundland and it was time to disembark and start our Newfoundland part of the trip.
Unfortunately, for most of this journey through Newfoundland, poor weather surrounded us and we decided to make a beeline to our first destination near St. Anthony, the Glacier Manor Resort. Now closed, it was a wonderful little place being built by a couple; John and Edna Simmonds using their own two hands. Dinner was home cooked by Edna while John literally serenaded us on the guitar while we ate. It was terrific. We sat and chatted and discussed the US and Canada and before we knew it we had transitioned from acquaintances to family in the breadth of a few short hours. Together with John and Edna, we’d been able to shrink the planet a little more on this trip. Wonderful!
We went out for an early evening walk in an attempt to see some moose. As the sun set, we came across a pair of very large great horned owls. One flew off quickly and the other stayed for a while and watched us watching him. We remained very quiet and did not make any quick movements or loud noises which might scare him off. Finally he had had his fill of watching us and as he flew away. But as he did, he left us a gift of one of his large feathers which we still have to this day. It was if he were saying, thank you for not disturbing us. For doing so, I leave you a part of me to remember us and Newfoundland by.
As the sky grew darker, we walked towards the more open fields and waited for the moose to come out. They did not disappoint us. They came out in fairly large numbers and quietly and calmly walked across open fields looking for some snacks. We watched in amazement wondering how such large animals could move about so silently. We watched for an hour or so and headed back to the resort for a good night’s rest.
Come the morning we made our way towards Newfoundland’s table top mountain National Park Gros Morne. It was green and gorgeous. Sheer walls of green with bare spots of rock shot straight up. Not to points, but to vast flat table tops that stretched for miles. Surrounded at the base by trees, as they rose, the mountains lost their leafy cover and instead were covered in huge patches of velvety green moss. The moss often undulated up the sides of the mountain giving the slope a wavy texture until reaching the table top. They were extraordinary sights.
While we stared at the table topped mountains, we were also treated to ocean view stretches. We rode alongside twisty two lane ocean roads with clouds racing perpendicular to our course. Fresh air treated our senses with variety. When the wind blew from the sea, it was sweetened with the brine of the deep. When if came from the land, it was pungent with pine. This ride had turned into a truly sensory delight.
We made a brief stop for lunch in a small town called Port Aux Choix. It was a charming place and it was clear that we were in Canada. One of the locals had hand carved a Viking statue and outfitted him full hockey gear including stick and shin guards. Of course, because he was cool, he was also outfitted with some rather trendy shades. Of course, we had to take a picture with him.
Continuing our southward ride, we made our way towards Rocky Harbor. To get to there, we again found ourselves on narrow twisty mountain roads with mountain and ocean views. At the higher elevations, snow was still on the ground and it was mid June! Along the way we spotted moose grazing and running alongside the road during the day. Beautiful to look at, but also an important reminder to be alert when rounding corners.
Rocky Harbor turned out to be another small town surrounded by mountains and the sea. When we arrived they were having a local regatta, and the townspeople were out and about in all sorts of small craft plying they way all over the harbor. It was a day of community on the water. We enjoyed the festivities for a while, but we really had to get going for our time was running short. The following day we had to be in Port Aux Basques to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia.
Arriving at our little hotel, which consisted of several separate little cottages and a restaurant, we caught a quick dinner and turned in for the night. Before we fell asleep the rain had begun to fall and tomorrow looked to be a damp ride to the ferry to Nova Scotia where we’ll take you in Part 7.
The ferry Sir Robert Bond effortlessly cruised up the bay so as to deliver us on time and early in the morning in Cartwright. The short overnight cruise had been uneventful and we slept heavily until the morning arrival announcement awakened us. Offloading was a cinch and we found ourselves deposited in Cartwright hungry and in need of fuel. First things first, we immediately made… breakfast the priority.
Not being a very large town, not too far from the ferry dock we found a small diner where the locals were busy getting ready for the day. We joined them, munched down some good local fare and inquired about obtaining fuel. They told us the only gas station in town would open around 8:30 and it was now 7:30. Kim and I looked at each other and decided that with the extra fuel I was carrying we would head on towards Port Hope Simpson where fuel was available and where we planned to stay for the night.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
We meandered along the TLH enjoying ourselves and the scenery, just soaking everything in. It was decent weather, we were in no particular rush and in fuel saving mode. We’d been traveling a couple of hours. Cruising along, I looked into my rearview mirror and saw a dust cloud and two headlights coming our way at a high rate of speed. They weren’t spaced evenly so it wasn’t a car or truck. As I stopped to see what was coming, my guess was confirmed. It was our friends Roy and Jeff from the ferry. They had waited for the gas station to open and were high tailing it to try to make the ferry at Blanc Sablon. They had covered in one hour what we had in two. They were moving!
We chatted briefly and they decided to get going so they didn’t miss the ferry at Blanc Sablon. We wished them well and their bikes and their dust cloud soon vanished in the distance. Their bikes having disappeared over the horizon, it was time for us to make our own headway towards Port Hope Simpson to get the fuel we needed and obtain respite from the black flies which had recently made themselves known in full force. In fact, for one photo stop, Kim refused to open her faceshield lest she immediately be swarmed by the nasty little critters. She was right, it was better to keep moving.
After some beautiful riding and some very abbreviated photo stops, we arrived in Port Hope Simpson and found the General Store that also sold fuel. To our surprise, we found some familiar faces. Yes indeed, it was our friends Roy and Jeff from the ferry once again. It seemed that the power was out in town and therefore, the fuel pumps were not working. We chatted and walked into the General Store to find out if they knew when the power might come back on.
The clerk there told us not to worry, that the power should come back on in an hour or so. She told us that this always happened when the guys down at the saw mill turned up the power without calling first and it trips off the breaker. That puts that part of the town out of power until the circuit could be reset. So we waited around for about an hour and sure as the sun rises the power came back on and we were able to fill all our bikes.
Unfortunately for Roy and Jeff, they were now truly under a time deadline and they REALLY had to make a beeline for Blanc Sablon if they wanted to make the ferry before it left the dock. (We found out later that they did make it but only by a matter of minutes.)
Fully fueled, we headed to the only accommodations in town and settled in. We were sitting in our room relaxing when the phone rang. Kim and I simultaneously looked at each other with bewildered looks. Who would be calling us in a little tiny hotel in Port Hope Simpson in northern Labrador? I walked over to the phone and picked it up wondering who might be on the other end.
A unfamilar voice said “Mike”? Yes, I replied warily. The voice on the other end said, “Hi, it’s Dave Noel. We’ve been corresponding on the Ride The Rock forum and I thought I’d come over and say hi.” I was shocked but really pleased. Dave and I had been chatting on the excellent Ride The Rock forum (you can find the link on our links page) when I was planning the TLH ride and Dave had been following my postings on ADVRider.com (you can also find their link on our links page) He took it upon himself to ride over 25 miles on gravel from his home town Mary’s Harbor, just to say hello to someone he had never met. In what other community would that kind of hospitality be shown? I was amazed and pleased to no end. I met Dave in the “lobby” and we went back to our room for a chat and we decided that the three of us would ride together tomorrow for a while. We would meet at Dave’s house and ride from there.
The following morning we easily found Dave’s house and met his family, his wife and two sons. Soon we were on the TLH headed towards Red Bay. The trip had been cool, and along the way we found how cool it had been. It was mid June and we found large patches of… SNOW! More than enough to make snowballs and enough for Dave to try to sneak in a couple of sneaky snowball attacks! However, I am pleased to report that he was unable to connect any either of these New Hampshire natives.
As we approached Red Bay we stopped for a couple of pictures. We were on an elevated portion of the TLH with a partial view of Red Bay. In the distance we could see the bay and I could see white specs in the water. I was somewhat speechless. I told Kim to look closely behind her and look in the bay. Did she see what I saw? Were there really icebergs in the bay? Now we were really excited because neither of us had ever seen icebergs in person. Dave humored us and we descended into Red Bay.
As we approached, it became clear that the specs were indeed icebergs and they were majestic. Sparkling white and huge, they floated silently in the bay. We did not sense any motion, but they floated there like barren white islands of various shapes and sizes, daring you to describe them. Some were gigantic, towering monoliths of ice, jutting out of the water. It amazed us to think that fully two thirds of the berg lay under water. Others were smaller and flatter, still white almost silver in color, again defying description.
We stopped at a small restaurant in town and had lunch with Dave. He needed to get home so we wished him the best and thanked him for taking the time to come and meet us and share this journey with us. We remain friends to this day.
After we said our goodbyes, we rode closer to the bay to gain the best view of the icebergs and yet another magical thing happened. As I was sitting on my KTM staring, I noticed a spray of water in front of the iceberg. Then another, and still another. My mouth dropped agape. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There from the side of the road, right in front of me, were several icebergs and in front and around the icebergs were several pods of Humpback whales feeding! They were breeching and if I listened carefully, I could even hear them blowing. It was a spectacular sight. One that I will probably never experience again. There must have been more than 100 whales feeding.
As I sat beside the road, a local came out of his house and said, “Pretty good show huh?” They were here all day yesterday and today.” I was dumbfounded. All I could mumble was, “Yes, it’s a great show, I am so happy to be here to enjoy it.” So everyone, I was lucky enough to have my little point and shoot camera with me which had a video mode. Because it’s a little point and shoot the video isn’t excellent, but I think it’s worthwhile. Therefore, I am indeed pleased to share with you the best whale watch I’ve ever been on, (including those on boats hehe) that was taken from the side of the road on my KTM motorcycle. You can find it here:
We sat there for an hour watching and listening to the whales. It was an amazing experience. Words just can’t describe it, it’s one of things that you just have to experience for yourself. We could have watched for hours, but we too had an appointment with the ferry at Blanc Sablon and it was time for us to make our way there. So with significant regret, we mounted up again and made our way towards our next stop at Blanc Sablon and the ferry to Newfoundland where we’ll take you in Part 6
We awoke to light drizzle but with an increasing outlook for sun. We were headed for Goose Bay, but we’d have an intermediate stop in Red Bay and it was to be an exciting experience, one that we’d not soon forget. We left our combination hotel, restaurant, supermarket, high school building and packed the bikes. Soon we were off the paved roads of the town of Churchill Falls and back out on the gravel of the Trans Labrador Highway.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, so did our spirits as the clouds parted and the temperatures rose. Today was going to be a truly nice ride and we were about to reach one of our milestone places, Goose Bay. From Goose Bay, we were going to take the ferry to Cartwright and the final run through Labrador to Blanc Sablon where we’d take another ferry to Newfoundland. Goose Bay was to be , the beginning of another adventure in our adventure. We were psyched!
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
During the day’s trip, the gravel was to transform many times. We were had been impressed with the overall condition of the TLH, the stories we’d heard of how dangerous it was for bikes hadn’t seemed to be true. Caution was indeed necessary as was demonstrated by Kim’s get off outside of Labrador City. But overall, the gravel had been fairly uniform and other than the hazards presented by the road graders, the road condition had been pretty good.
Today however, was a day of road and sky transformations. It seemed that the road condition changed with the sky. The clearer the sky became, the deeper and looser the gravel became. Later in the day as it began to cloud up again, the road firmed up and became almost like pavement. It was truly strange. But enough about the road conditions. We were headed for Goose Bay!
We traveled over and between verdant forests. Many shades of green contrasting on the same hill or mountainside. It was an irregular patchwork of greens, a pattern chosen by nature into a decoration of magical proportions. All the while, we swooped and dived between the mountains on a path of stone and sand. It was a symphony of nature and music for my ears was unnecessary because the music of nature before my eyes played in my head as I rode.
Time passed very quickly even though by this time we were in and out of rain showers. Before we knew it we made it to the greeting sign for Goose Bay and Happy Valley. It had stopped raining for the moment and it gave us the opportunity to take some pictures in front of the sign as evidence that we had made it. Someone had left a marker of their achievement as well and built a rock man figure to the left of the sign letting all others know that people they had been there previously. and now so had we.
Shortly thereafter, it started to rain again and we headed to our hotel for a day and a half layover since the ferry would not be leaving until then. We parked the bikes and unpacked the gear we needed in the rain. Once in our room we dried off and warmed up. It had become quite chilly by this point and the warmth of the hotel was greatly appreciated. Now all we needed was a hot dinner. Luckily for us, there was a small restaurant right next to the hotel and we headed on over.
They were serving a buffet and we passed a gentleman in the line. I guess we look like “bikers” because he asked are you the two on the bikes? We told him that indeed we were. He said that he noticed our New Hampshire license plates and remarked that we had ridden a long way from home. We told him we enjoyed the ride, especially over the TLH and that we were now headed to the end at Blanc Sablon and the ferry to Newfoundland, then on to Nova Scotia. He said he was very interested in our trip and asked if he could join us for dinner to chat about it. Of course we said yes and we had a terrific dinner discussing where we had been and were going on this trip and about adventure riding in general. In return, he told us about himself and his family. He was the local pastor in Goose Bay and had travelled there from Quebec a few years earlier. His flock was growing and he was enjoying being in Labrador where he said could be a part of a community where people were like family. After dinner, we wished him well and we returned to our hotel room feeling like we had become a bit part of the Goose Bay community, we learned about them and they about us. It was a nice feeling.
The following day, I did a little preventative maintenance on the bikes and we did a little looking around Goose Bay. But late in the afternoon, it was time to head to the ferry terminal to pick up the ferry to Cartwright where we continue our journey to the end of the TLH in Blanc Sablon, Quebec. Little did we know that this part of the trip was to become very, very special.
We arrived at the terminal fairly early and found ourselves one of the few vehicles in the lot. Parked at the pier was our ride to Cartwright, the Sir Robert Bond, our ferry. She was a sturdy looking vessel and we were somewhat impatient to get on board, tie down the bikes and get underway for Cartwright. It was to be an overnight trip and we had rented a berth so we could arrive fresh and rested to start the beginning of the end of our TLH ride.
Loading time came and was orchestrated very well. It was an easy process and we were supplied with tie downs for the bikes. Faster than we thought possible, we were on board and ready to depart. We walked around the Bond looking for some dinner and they did have a cafeteria. Well, it was a cafeteria, and the food quality merited the name cafeteria food, but it was food and we were hungry. Fed, we were ready to hit the sack and we adjourned to our berth for a good night’s rest. Along the way, we met a couple of other riders, from all places, Massachusetts, the state right next to New Hampshire. They too had been riding the TLH albeit at a much higher rate of speed. They were really zooming and had covered much more ground in much less time than we had. We had a good time joking around and having fun with them. In fact, so much fun that I guess we drew a complaint from someone and a member of the crew staff asked us to keep the noise down. Ooops!
Our partying done, now it was time to hit the rack. The last of the TLH lay in front of us in the morning and well tell you about this and the very special happenings (the pictures will knock your socks off!) in Part 5.
Having snaked our way up the side of Manic 5 we were underway for real on our TLH adventure. It had been a beautiful ride so far, but it had been an all pavement ride up to this point and we were really looking forward to a bit more challenging terrain to ride. We were about to experience some and find out what the TLH had in store for us.
As we made our way northward, the rain decreased in intensity and the low clouds began to lift a bit. We were able to see a bit more of our surroundings and enjoy the very green forests that encroached from all directions. The rain could do little to dampen our spirits as we soldiered on deeper into the forests of Labrador. Yes, we were really heading into the wilderness and we were loving it. The gravel road undulated and swooped up and down, sometimes with fairly steep grades. The gravel varied from hard packed to loose and piled, so we had to stay alert, but it was not hugely difficult riding. In fact, the rain was doing us somewhat of a favor and keeping the dust to zero.
After about two hours on the road and not a single car coming from the other direction, we were really in riding nirvana. All this to ourselves, lush green surrounded us, the grey misty skies embraced us and softened all the features to a gauzy dreamlike condition. If you could ride a motorcycle and enter a trance at the same time, now would be the time to do it, it was just that peaceful. Just when we thought that we were the last two people on earth (or at least in Labrador) as we crested a hill, we were reminded that we were still surrounded by “civilization” no matter how isolated we thought we were.
To the right side of the road atop an orange pole stood tall, thin, blazing red beacon with unlit yellow and green lights. It stood there silently with another square little box counting down the minutes and seconds as if it were waiting for something big to happen. Could this really be? A traffic signal in the middle of nowhere on the TLH? Indeed it was and it was the first of its kind seen by this city boy. It was a time controlled traffic signal and it was waiting for us and telling us to wait until it counted down to zero. But it was quite strange. Ahead we could only see sodden gravel road and varying shades of green trees, for what appeared to be a half mile. We still didn’t know what it was doing there but we waited somewhat impatiently for the countdown to end and the light to turn green.
In fact, it took so long that a car pulled up beside us and turned off its engine to wait as well. It’s occupants rolled down their windows and offered us some of the nuts they were munching on and we chatted a few minutes about our trip and where were from and where we were headed. They told us that up ahead, we would find some construction where the road would narrow to a single lane and that’s why we were being held, so that traffic coming the other way would have time to pass the construction and pass us. After the allotted time had passed we would be free to go and the folks on the other end would have to wait until we had passed by the timing of the traffic signal. When the light finally turned green, we wished our new friends well and let them go first since we were in no rush to get anywhere and they were headed for Labrador City, quite a distance away.
One of the “highlights” of the trip was to pass through the vanished town of Gagnon, Quebec. Gagnon provided us with one of the most eerie feelings we’ve ever had. Gagnon was founded by the Québec Cartier Mining Company to mine iron ore at Jeannine Lake. Construction of the pilot plant began in the winter of 1957. By August of that year, the plant had processed a thousand tons of ore. On January 28, 1960, the town was incorporated as Ville de Gagnon and named after Onésime Gagnon, the first Minister of Mining in Quebec. Thereafter it grew rapidly to 1300 inhabitants and by the end of that year, Gagnon had more than 4000 residents. It had an airport, churches, schools, a town hall, an arena, a hospital, and a large commercial centre, despite being isolated and only accessible by aircraft
In 1974, mining began at Fire Lake, some 80 kilometres (50 mi) north-east. By the mid-1980s however, the mine was no longer turning a profit and the mines were closed. More startlingly, the town fully was fully dismantled in 1985. All buildings and nearly all of the streets were demolished. The town’s main street is all that remains and it became part of Route 389 two years after the town’s closure. Eerily, that section of road retains a boulevard configuration, complete with a median, sidewalks, and sewers, despite being deep in the wilderness, hundreds of kilometres from the nearest active community, It was a very strange and unsettling feeling having traveled many miles on damp gravel to arrive at a paved section of road, complete with dividers and sidewalks, and see nothing around you but brush and trees. You could only stare and wonder, “What happened to all the people who used to live here and where are they now?”
We stopped for a brief time but needed to move on since we had planned a fairly long day and had planned to bed down in were bedding down in Labrador City. As we headed further north, towards Fermont, the mining town that led to the closure of Gagnon, the road began a set of twists and turns and multiple rail crossings. Despite the fact that you are many miles from any large city, there are plenty of trains traversing these tracks and you must be very careful at the crossings to ensure that there is not a train coming. While we completed this section in a single day, three separate trains passed by us.
Another hazard of the TLH is the “dreaded” road grader. Traveling at low speeds, the transit the TLH for hundreds of miles evening out potholes and adding a slight crown to the road to assist in drainage. While this is excellent for the four wheeled variety of vehicles, it can lead to more difficult riding for the two wheel variety. The graders often leave an in or two of soft mixed soil in their wake as well as very significant mixed gravel berms that can make negotiating the road quite difficult. The graders have gained a significant notoriety among the two wheeled adventure riding community and although their wake is not generally deadly, it can bite the unsuspecting if you turn your back on them as we’ll find out in Part 3.
As native New England adventure riders, we were looking for a ride that would be a bit more off the beaten track but doable within the 2 weeks we had off. Something that was not your garden style ride, but something more. We wondered where we could ride that would take us off the pavement and into the wilderness a bit, but still put us in touch with some different local flavors. Something that we were not used to and would be new, interesting and exciting. After thinking about it for a while, we thought we had come up with the only conclusion possible for us. The Trans Labrador Highway (aka the TLH)! At the time, a little traveled gravel road known for its changing conditions, pea sized gravel, significant distances between towns and nice people in them. Then we thought, while we were at it, we may as well visit Newfoundland and Nova Scotia!
Done! The deal had been struck, we would leave in the middle of June and head generally northeast up through Quebec, into Labrador, to Goose Bay, where the TLH ended, hop a ferry to Cartwright, get back on the TLH and ride to Blanc Sablon (actually in Quebec) hop another ferry to Newfoundland, ride south down the west coast of Newfoundland and once again jump on another ferry to Nova Scotia, ride the length of Nova Scotia and then board one last ferry to Maine and ride back to New Hampshire. What a great trip!