Moominmama's Adventures

In which Moominmama sees the amazing tides in the Bay of Fundy and slips on the ocean floor... The Bay of Fundy between New Brunswick and Nova Scotia is famous for its tides with a hundred billion tons of water pouring in and out of the bay with each cycle. Water can rise at high tide by as much as 56 feet, and at Hopewell Rocks, pictured above, it averages around 46 feet at high tide. According to the Mi'kmaq legend, the giant Glooscap wanted to take a bath and got Beaver to build him a dam across the mouth of the bay. A whale took objection and slapped the dam down, sending water rushing into and out of the bay with a force so strong it continues to this day. Since it pours in at about 6-feet an hour, the bay fills quickly and can be dangerous. Visitors are allowed to walk on the "ocean floor" at low tide but the staircase is closed as the tide comes in. In fact, the lower levels of the stairs flood. Moominmama joined the crowds for low tide to explore the rock features...

Wherein Moominmama goes to Le Bout du Monde (the end of the world) at the tip of the Gaspé... If the Gaspé is a peninsula, then Forillon National Park is a pointer finger at the end, with the fingernail being the Cap-Gaspé. This tip of the world, also called Land's End in English, marks the end of the Bay of Gaspé as it joins the St. Lawrence Gulf.  Unsurprisingly, Cap-Gaspé has been home to a lighthouse since 1873, but the present day lighthouse is the third of its kind (this one made of cement), as extreme weather took down previous iterations over time. But it was not enough to shine a light from this high point on the cape. Protecting ship traffic required warning them by ear when the fog grew thick. There was also a "cannon shelter," which boomed out warnings to the captains below until 1894, when guncotton cartridges replaced the older technology, which was, in turn, replaced by a modern foghorn.  The cannon shelter was moved to this location away from the cliff...

  In which Moominmama meets a Caribou... Moominmama is in the Haute Gaspésie, the northern end of the Gaspé peninsula in Quebec but on the Saint Lawrence side. I nailed a camping spot in the Parc National de la Gaspesie and much to my surprise, I'm in the mountains even though I'm half an hour's drive from the Saint Lawrence River and the ocean smells of the Atlantic! And these are impressive mountains, with lofty alpine zones at the top, complete with caribou. I had no idea... On the peaks, the ground is bushy and rocky tundra like Alaska or Alberta. But it is rare to see the caribou, and Moominmama was incredibly lucky to find one at the top of Mont Jacques-Cartier. This small but protected herd of woodland caribou are found on only a couple of the peaks. I was lucky to have an opportunity to hike one of those mountains and snagged a spot on the first bus of the day into the protected zone. This peak is only open to hikers for three months of the year, and even then, hike...

Wherein life gets in the way of blogging... Moominmama apologizes for keeping friends in the dark, but there were many distractions that got in the way of posting to this blog! Since leaving the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, Moominmama had other deadlines, as well as problems with internet and time! Among other things, I had to hustle to London, Ontario to get to an appointment for necessary maintenance on the trailer and to set up a Canadian phone plan. Happily, after that, I returned to Rochester, NY to see my eldest and to attend the 2024 Rochester International Jazz Festival. I had a list of friends to visit but quickly ran out of time! The photo above is of blues guitarist "Kingfish" Ingram, one of many performers I was fortunate enough to see. He had a remarkable way of playing single notes on his electric guitar. These solo notes could call up the sound of a whale's underwater cry; others sounded like taps on a pair of bongos and still others sent sound waves forth ...

  Wherein Moominmama visits the Apostle Islands and Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore to see how erosion shapes the sandstone in interesting ways... Water turns out to be one of the most artistic forces of erosion on earth, and the sandstone formations along Lake Superior are a fine example.  The best way to see the formations are by boat, which means Moominmama was back on the water, recovering today from a six-hour journey in a sea kayak. As tired as I am, it was great fun to travel under arches and into caves carved by the water into these ancient sedimentary deposits.  Photographs can make it hard to show scale, so I invite you to look closely at the lower right area of this photo. Barely visible is the kayak of our leader, Colin, inside this colorful cave at Pictured Rocks. The cave also extends further back than it appears. This national park gets its name from what looks like paint along the cliff faces, which is the result of minerals leaching through the sandston...

In which Moominmama learns the difference between marshes, swamps, fens and bogs -- and that the best place to enjoy Wisconsin is on open water... Moominmama is hesitant to recommend northern Wisconsin in June as the mosquitos, ticks and flies own the place. But with plentiful maple, birch, pine and hemlock, it must be splendid in the fall and winter. And for a cross-country skier, this place must be a dream. Moominmama spent a week in the Chequamagon-Nicolet National Forest near Cable, a town with a lovely log cabin public library where I went to work several mornings.  Cable is also the starting line for the American Birkebeiner Nordic ski race, modeled after a similar race in Norway. Skiers start in Cable and end in Hayward, more than 30 miles away through the woods During the summer, the many trails double as a place for running, hiking and biking. Heading out on foot, however, made me a target for the hungry mosquitos despite repeated re-applications of bug repellent.   O...

Wherein Moominmama pays her first visit to Wisconsin, enjoying the isthmus that is Madison before heading north into the woods... The Wisconsin State Capitol is smack dab in the center of Madison, a city with lakes on either side. The land between the two forms an isthmus, a word that, until now, Moominmama had no experience with beyond a spelling challenge. The dome is made of Vermont granite, the only one of its kind in the U.S. and the largest such dome by volume. It was built in 1917 to replace an older building that burned down, and the city spreads out at its feet with roads that extend like rays from its center. State Street is a mainly pedestrian walkway that extends for many blocks with shops and restaurants on either side, connecting to the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus.  From the Capitol, it's also easy to walk to either of the two lakes and to view them from terraces, a big one on Lake Monona which also serves as the city's main conference center, and on th...