St Johns, Newfoundland 2005
Everything is Old in Newfoundland!
June 2005
Hello from St. Johns, Newfoundland! Yesterday was the Summer Solstice. Sunrise was at 5:03 am and sunset was at 9:02 pm. This week has been great with lows in the 50’s and high in the mid 60’s. Last week it rained every day and the temperature usually hovered in the 40’s. The extra hours allow me go for a walk every evening on a mountain next to town that has various routes marked.
Summers are cool here, but before you decide this is place to live, consider the winters. Last winter St. Johns received more snow than any locals could recall. It stacked up to the point that there was no place to put the snow to keep the roads open. The papers printed warnings daily that children should take extreme caution to not use power lines as hand rails when they walked outside in their snowshoes.
I’ve been walking through the national park next to St. Johns that has great scenic walking trails up and around a mountain that overlooks the Atlantic. Each day I’ve noticed that just outside the park boundaries opposite from town there is another very imposing mountain with one side that appeared climbable to a novice climber. (Looks can be deceiving!) Yesterday I decided that the six kilometer hiking path around the park was too tame and headed off toward the unnamed mountain. The only path I could locate was a narrow trail about six inches wide through dense growth. I am considerably wider than six inches, so I ended up leaving little pieces of my skin on the brush as I went. After a while I realized the mountain was a little further away and a little wilder than I thought. Fortunately I had come prepared for outdoor survival. I had on a t-shirt with shorts and carried only my hotel room key and a digital camera for protection. At one point, I realized if I fell or got lost, I could be in big trouble. “What could possibly go wrong,” I thought, consoling myself. Then I saw the fresh bear scat. Just kidding. But I really was getting deep into a thicket that surrounded the mountain and was starting to thank that if I saw fresh bear scat, the next idiot to take this route would see fresh Keith scat. “Hmmmm,” the hiker would muse, “Looks like he had KFC recently, also a burger, most likely a Big Mac, and it appears he grazed on jalapenos.” Based on this information, a search and rescue team would comb every fast food joint in St. Johns looking for me.
I’m proud to say that I made it up the mountain with no falls, scraps or bruises. Unfortunately the climb down had at least one of each. The view of the Atlantic from the summit was breathtaking. So was the return route. When going up a steep grade looking for foot holds and hand holds, your eyes are right where they need to be to assist your hands and feet. When going down a steep grade, however, your eyes are about four to six feet above where they could actually do some good. Later when I proudly told a local what I had done, he just shot me a puzzled look and asked what I was thinking. “This had nothing to do with thinking,“ was my response.
My daily walks have not been nearly as eventful when I don’t climb the Materhorn. The paths around the national park usually follow the Atlantic and I always take my camera. I have some great shots of beautiful vistas. Also on two days I have spotted whales. I thought my Sony digital camera was fast, but when I saw a great humpback surfacing and rolling over, it took about two and half hours for the Sony to actually flip on, focus and take a shot of the water ring spreading away from where the whale had been. I could have pulled out a canvas and easel and painted the event faster. Later I took several shots of water rings from an entire pod of lesser known whales (I forgot the name, a local told me) that I managed to miss. I don’t mean to brag, but these are some of the best water ring shots maybe ever taken. It is crystal clear from the size of the ripples that the photographer just missed something really big. If anyone would like some prints of these, just let me know. After I had a second chance the next day at a great humpback and the camera did its imitation of a labor union’s work slowdown, I nearly took a water ring shot of a Sony plunging into the Atlantic from a 200 foot cliff.
I’ve noticed when I pass people here they tend to nod and say “How’re we doing?” Not “How are you doing?”, “How’s it going?”, “Nice day”, “Don’t step in any bear scat.” But usually “How’re WE doing?” I’ve had to monitor myself carefully when asked this. I want to shoot back something like, “Well, you would do a lot better if you could drop a few pounds and maybe get a decent haircut. And, it wouldn’t kill you to visit a dentist every few years - you’re not Scotish are you?” Then I felt bad when I realized they have national health care here. These guys are probably seeking elective health care and really want to know how they’re doing.
That’s the news, or lack of news, from up north and on the most easterly point in North America.
How’re we doing?
Keith