Day Sixty Seven
The carriage slowly wound down the path to the base of the mountain. At the base, the path branched in two directions. Too the left, the trail continued south towards Baddeck, going right, turned the driver west towards the Cabot Trail. Without hesitation, Dave turned the carriage west, onto the Cabot Trail, and whipped the horses for a little speed as they began to climb a hill.
The condition of the trail deteriorated as they they progressed, Dave did his best to avoid the massive pot holes that had formed over the years of heavy use, but some where just to large to avoid, and the carriage was tossed around. Lori, the sole passenger of the coach did her best to ignore the disturbances as she viewed out the window of her carriage.
She had planned on this trip for years. Arriving in Nova Scotia a few days earlier, she was forced to waited at base camp for the weather to improve before beginning the journey onto the trail. Dave, had never heard of the trail prior to Lori suggesting the journey. He reviewed the trail the evening prior to departure, and learned there was two ways to make the journey. Entering the west side would put your carriage furthest from the cliffs, east would put you right along the cliffs.
Being the first time on this trail, Dave decided the west entrance would be best for the journey. In the morning, he loaded the proper provisions onto the coach. He ensured the chest was filled with food for Lori and himself, along with plenty of water for Lori’s two canine travel companions. The day began with a low cloud cover that was hopefully expected to lift as the day progressed.
As the carriage drove further into the trail, the path began to really deteriorate making it difficult on the carriage. Rounding a bend, Dave, was forced to pull back on the reins slowing the carriage, a road block had been put in place by the locals. Viewing the situation, it appeared the trail was no longer safe to travel, and repair work was being attempted. A sign posted by a smaller path to the left, indicated it would take them around the repair work. Dave turned the coach, and headed into the smaller tail.
The rerouted trail lasted for a few kilometres and was in far better shape than what they had experienced on the main trail. Once back on the main trail, the major damage had been bypassed, and Dave was able to whip the horses into a steady canter.
It took close to an hour before the carriage approached the coast. During this, Lori watched the lush green forest slowly pass by, wondering how beautiful this would be during the fall colours. Behind her, Gizmo stretched out in a makeshift perch Lori had built, allowing him to watch the scenery pass undisturbed from the younger pup Sophie, that was constantly being a nuisance.
When the carriage reached the coast, the clouds were doing their best to obscure any scenery from view. After passing a few foggy stops, Dave spotted a side trail where the fog had pulled away, allowing for a small glimpse of the shore line. Dave pulled back on the reins, and turned down the side trail, brining the carriage to a halt along the shore.
Lori jumped down from the carriage followed by her two travel companions for a look around. A sandy beach ran along the shore, where the ocean peacefully lapped onto it, a perfect place for a little beach combing, she thought. She attempted to make her way to the beach, but quickly found herself barred by driftwood that was piled high, making access to difficult for the dogs. Lori turned back in hopes Dave had pulled lunch out from behind the carriage.
They had sandwiches and muffins inside the coach, with a little water to wash it all down. After a short period, more carriages started pulled in as they too discovered the small relief the side trail was offering from the fog. After lunch, they cleaned up and made preparations to continue the journey.
Entering the northwest section of the trail, it began to climb towards the French, and MacKenzie mountain ranges. The climb was steep, with a few sharp turns back and forth along the way. The horses had no difficulty pulling the carriage and made the turns easily. As the trail progressed up, the side of the trail with the sea dropped into an abyss of fog. Dave wondered how steep the cliffs actually were, and was glad he was not driving the the large wagon with all the camp gear.
As the carriage followed the trail up the French mountain, Lori began to have little hope the expedition would provide any of the breathtaking scenery it was known to have. The trail continued to climb until it crested the mountain, breaking free from the fog, and rising into sunny blue skies, giving hope to both Dave and Lori for better things to come.
For the next few hours, Dave followed the trail north, then east away from the coast. The trail was in excellent condition and provided multiple stops where they could explore the scenery along the way. Dave figured on a perfect day, the view would allow you to see the ocean in the distance, today however the valley and ocean continued to be covered by the fog.
The trail took them to the east side of the Cape Breton Highlands. From this point, Dave turned the carriage south and began the journey down too sea level. As the trail started its descent, Lori became hopeful that the day had enough time to burn away the fog. Shortly into the decent, Her hope was dashed when the carriage rounded a corner, and entered a wall of fog.
From her carriage window, Lori was realizing that the chances of getting any good scenery was coming to a close. She looked out over the fog just in time to see it pull back from the water, exposing some of Black Brook Bay. She called up to Dave to stop the carriage and began preparing the puppies for a break.
The waves coming off the bay where cresting two to three feet high, before crashing onto the beach with a large roar as they tumbled in. Dave and Lori walked the pups over to a side beach where it was sheltered, allowing for the pups to peacefully explore the beach and chase the butterflies as they went. After a short time exploring, Dave escorted Lori and the pups back to the carriage to continue the journey south.
Time was slipping by, and the trail showed only little glimpses of scenery between breaks in the fog. The breaks were mostly noticed just as the carriage rolled passed, making it difficult, or to dangerous to stop for viewing. As Dave drove the carriage into the the last leg of the trail, the scenery disappeared, being replaced with trees with the occasional settlement.
