Maritimelog IV: The Origin of Rocky

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Bay St. Lawrence


I woke up bright and early, quietly got dressed and snuck out of the camper.  I strolled over to the nearby dock to see if I could spot any whales while m’lady kept on sleeping.  No whales, but the sea alone was an inspiring sight for this sleepy landlubber first thing in the morning.  Back at the mobile ranch I put on some coffee while m’lady roused and took a shower, which along with everything else pretty much depleted our in-house resources.  After two nights of dry camping we were going to need a serviced site to fill our compartments that were becoming dry and empty the ones that were threatening to overflow.

Be that as it may, it’s not like we were on a mission to get parked for the day or anything, so when we pulled up stakes and got on the road we took it slow and easy yet again.  

Heading lackadaisically south we soon re-entered Cape Breton Highlands National Park and thus the Caboto Sentiero.  There was no reason to not take advantage of the beautiful park so we stopped for a few short hikes and took a ride along another bike trail (of which the park boasts just four).  It was a great day for biking and such stunning scenery to ride through.  I sure am glad we were able to strap the bikes to the back of the RV; it allowed for a whole other dimension of freedom and opportunity.  

After an afternoon of exploring we were back on the road.  About a half-kilometre before we left the Cabot Trail behind we happened upon a restaurant the could only have a great view.  M’lady was hankerin’ for some sea bug so we pulled in for an early dinner.  She ordered the lobster dinner while I went for the club sandwich (I don’t groove on the bottom-feeders).  She bibbed up and chowed down while I attacked my sandwich one wedge at a time as we gazed out over the waters surrounding St. Anns.  If my sandwich was any indication, her lobster must have been fantastic.    

On the way out of the restaurant I bought m’lady a little stuffed lobster on a whim.  I dubbed it “Rocky” (of course) and she took to it immediately (of course).  She plunked the plush crustacean up on the dash and just like that little Rocky became our mascot and co-pilot.  His maiden voyage led us through Sydney and further south along the scenic shores of Bras d’Or Lake, where we found a campground to call home for the short night.

Bras d’Or Lake

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