My sister’s husband Dave passed away last January after a courageous 4-year battle with a rare cancer. Last summer Pat (my sister) engineered what she suspected would be Dave’s last trip to their property in Marble Mountain in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia - 200 acres on the west shore of Bras d’Or Lake, a very large semi-salt water lake that occupies much of Cape Breton’s interior.

One of Dave’s wishes was to have some of his ashes scattered on the waters of the Bras d’Or, so right after his passing Pat began working to get all their kids and grandchildren together all at the same; Liz and I were included. Dave had been to me the big brother I never had.

Back on the road, our first night’s destination was Freeport, ME, where the town provides an RV parking lot for free overnight parking. We spent the afternoon at LL Bean’s flagship store, followed by a delicious lobster roll at the Freeport Chowder House.

The next morning we took a walk around the village and paid a visit to the Freeport Community Center Thrift Shop where we always manage to find some interesting books. Then we headed up Route 1 to Wiscasset. Traveling north on Route 1 on a summer Saturday is not exactly fun - many, many cars and bottlenecks going through towns….like Wiscasset. Fortunately we were leaving Route 1 there to head to Whitefield, ME, to visit friends.

We had hopes of spending the night at Paralee Beach Provincial Park north of Moncton, but it was not to be. The park was full, so we had to continue on our way. We ended crossing the border into Nova Scotia and in Amherst stopped at a private campground, Loch Lomond, for the night. We learned a bit about Canadian money here, in particular, the one-dollar coin called a loonie (because it has a loon on one side). Loonies were needed for the pay-showers.

Driving the roads of New Brunswick gives one a chance to brush up on one’s French, as road and advertising signs are bi-lingual. One I particularly liked was one that said something about military veterans - the French version shown was “les ancient combatants”. I don’t know why they didn’t use the more common “vétérante“.

US citizens could learn a thing or two about respect for their environment and property. We saw very few run-down, ramshackle houses; no matter how small or poor, homes were well-maintained - no peeling paint. Likewise everyone takes pride in their lawn. I suppose the damp weather makes it easier to keep grass green, but that also means it needs to be mowed more often, and every home, again no matter its size, had a neatly-manicured lawn.

22 Jul 14: Before leaving Loch Lomond, we made sure to dump our holding tanks and fill our fresh water tank, for at my sister’s property we would be boondocking with no hookups. We made it to the Canso Causeway, which connects Cape Breton to the mainland, at noon, and stopped to eat our lunch at the Cape Breton Visitors Center. We also filled the gas tank in case we needed to run the generator while at Pat’s.

Heading out of Port Hawksbury, the roads get progressively worse, so it was a rather slow drive out to Marble Mountain. We arrived about 1330; Pat was doe to arrive the next day, so she had arranged for a neighbor to unlock the gate for us.

The driveway down to her trailer is VERY steep and I doubt that the RV would make it back up. It would be an expensive tow if it didn’t, so a few years ago, Pat had a local contractor level out a parking place at the top of the hill. He did a great job getting it level. The weeds were rather tall around the camper, so I went down to Pat’s tool shed and found a weed-whacker. In a few minutes we more clear space around us

Marble Mountain is a very small village and it didn’t take long for everyone to know we had arrived. Pat had told a few of her friends that we were coming, so at least they didn’t think we were squatters. Pat arrived the next day.

Internet access is hard to come by in Marble Mountain - quite expensive. However, there is a public access point at the Community Center, about half a mile from Pat’s place. So each morning I’d put my computer in my backpack and take a walk up to “town”. Sometimes the wi-fi was working, but sometimes not, so I never knew how successful I’d be. Generally I could get email, but trying to do any more was hopeless.

This afternoon some of Pat’s kids arrived: son Scott and his family. Within the next few days, daughters Bonnie and Shelly, with their clans as well, would arrive. Pat’s little trailer could not hold all them (11) so friends of Pat’s had offered their cottages to be used. Scott’s family was in a fairly new, very modern house; certainly not a cottage as I would think of one. Shelly and her family were in a classic cottage: Large porch on the front overlooking the lake, big stone fireplace, open studs on the exterior walls, and two small bedrooms, one with two sets of bunkbeds.

31 Jul 14: Today was devoted to commemorating Dave’s life. In the morning we set out in three boats into the lake, where we cut engines and held on to each other’s boat while George, a Marble Mountain friend of Dave’s, gave a short eulogy and after Pat scattered the ashes and covered the spot with wild flowers picked that morning, he led us in prayer. Late in the afternoon Pat’s friends hosted a reception in Dave’s memory. Another Marble Mountain friend, Gary, gave a very touching recounting of the wonderful times that he and Dave had shared over the years. Daughters Bonnie and Shelly, who have beautiful voices, sang two of Dave’s favorite Cape Breton songs, including Rita McNeill’s “Home I’ll Be”. Now I cannot listen to that song without tears coming to my eyes

Dinners all week rotated among the kids and we even managed to get in a rather outrageous croquet game. Although we didn’t get to finish the game, Scott’s wife Barb was declared the winner, since she was ahead and about to become poison. Looking back, perhaps that wicket in the tree was a bit much.

2 Aug 14: We headed back to the Highland Village in Iona this afternoon for a Gaelic Music Festival. Some great musicians and dancers. We sprawled out on the hillside above the stage and enjoyed the music.

We heard a great line about Cape Breton: “North America is a small island off the west coast of Cape Breton.”

9 Aug 14: On we go. After another stop at McKay’s Blueberries, we crossed the border back into the US at Calais. There are no campgrounds in the immediate area, so we, along with several other RV’ers, spent the night at the local Wal-Mart.

I’m always intrigued by some of the old cars we see in our travels. The two standouts on this trip were a 1932 Buick and a beautifully-restored Studebaker. The Buick was on display beside the Community Center in Parrboro, NS, while we followed the Studebaker a ways down Route 1 near Thomaston, ME.

We were headed for South Thomaston and one of our favorite campgrounds, Lobster Buoy Campsites. Got a fairly good site for two nights and then we were able to move to one of the prime oceanfront sites for another two nights. No stay at Lobster Buoy is complete without a walk to Waterman’s Beach Lobster for the bestest lobster roll in Maine. It’s served on a warm round bun with a very generous portion.

We were there at the time of a full moon, which really accentuated the tides. There was a difference of 12’ between high and low tides. A storm came along with strong easterly winds which made the high tide even higher.

We got to meet some interesting folks here. There was a Dutch family there with two young children. They had rented a large Class A motorhome for a couple of months and were touring the northeast US and eastern Canada.

On our last full day there, a young German couple arrived on bicycles. They were on a two-week ride along the Maine coast. They had flown into Portland and bought their bicycles there.

14 Aug 14: It’s been windy and rainy for the past 24 hours and we awoke to the same this morning, our last. Time to pack up and head for home.

See y'all next time!