I’m cutting across the Acadian peninsula on one of the Veloroute cycling trails, through what I call Maritime Moose Country — bogs and wetlands that make up a great portion of the geography of Canada’s East. The trails are lined with saffron-coloured patches of tansies and a couple of eagles soar above me, making high-pitched cries. There are songbirds aplenty, and one especially catches my eye as he folds his wings into a perfect diamond shape on his little back. I don’t know my Eastern birds well and make a note to self to Google this one.
Small water tributaries are filled with wispy sea grasses and perfect cattails — the ones that are brown and velvety, before their stuffing explodes. The Acadian Peninsula is predominately a Francophone area of New Brunswick, and the colours of the Acadian flag — blue, red and white — are regularly displayed enroute on picnic tables, garbage barrels and even little bird houses.
Completed in 2018, the Acadian Peninsula Veloroute covers over 610 kilometres (more than 310 of which are paved) and is comprised of 14 circuits that connect 14 municipalities — a unique opportunity to experience Acadian culture as you go.
Even though it’s mid-August, on today’s 40-kilometre section of hard-packed gravel and boardwalk trail, I passed only four other cyclists. And that was in the first five kilometres close to Tracadie, my beginning point (and where I also rented my hybrid bicycle and helmet from at the Villegiature Deux Rivieres Resort). Otherwise, the trail was quiet, with just the sound of the wind blowing through the poplar leaves.
The next day, I meet local cycling enthusiast Daniel Landry at the Grand Anse lighthouse. He’s keen to show me a mostly road-cycling circuit along the coast of Chaleur Bay from the lighthouse to Anse Blue, and then to Caraquet. As we ride, Daniel tells me he’s a descendent of Alexis Landry, who founded Caraquet when he was fleeing the Acadian deportation and settled here in 1758.
Today’s winds are gusting up to 45 kilometres an hour, enjoyable when the wind is blowing at my back, but not so much when I turn direction. The terrain on most of the Veloroute is flat but riding into a headwind can be a formidable task. Daniel tells me that when he used to travel to mountain areas to cycle, he was afraid he wouldn’t meet the challenge of the steep terrain. As it turns out, he learned that riding in high winds is an equivalent cardio workout.
The final leg of the Veloroute I ride is the circuit from the drawbridge at Shippagan over to Miscou Island. Daniel says it’s his favourite, and it’s easy to see why. The bulk of the ride is on roads along the coastline and through forested inland areas. I pass several churches and make the stop at St. Cecile to admire the artwork and hear the acoustics famous for Baroque concerts. There are more cyclists on Miscou Island, but the roads aren’t that busy and motorists are respectful of cyclists.
Closer to the Miscou Lighthouse on the tip of the peninsula, the spongy peat bogs on the sides of the road are a stunning textured patchwork. The 1856 lighthouse is still functioning; paying the entrance fee and climbing the stairs is worth it for the view of Chaleur Bay, across the St. Lawrence, all the way to Quebec’s Gaspe.
Later that week, after exploring Saint John, a lovely old city surprisingly rich in Loyalist history and architecture, but also filled with modern-day attractions, including trendy shopping and food and drink establishments, I take my first step onto the Fundy Footpath Trail. I’m hiking a 15-kilometre section, heading east, starting at the footbridge that crosses the Big Salmon River.
Compared to British Columbia’s West Coast Trail, the 64-kilometre Fundy Footpath, located in the Fundy Trail Parkway (drivable from one end to the other as of 2020), remains relatively under-utilized. I don’t see another soul until I come to Long Beach, where some tourists get out of their vehicle to look down the expanse of beach, which at low tide, exposes a half kilometre of sandy ocean floor. After all, this is the Bay of Fundy, home to the highest tides in the world.
This challenging wilderness trail hugs the coastline, with a fairly constant up-and-down terrain. Scenery ranges from pretty, mixed forest to amazing headland views, and long stretches of beach. Although the views are best from the areas where the trail borders high sea cliffs, I also enjoy my time of rock hopping across streams and muddy patches, scrambling over tree roots, and wading through patches of waist-high ferns.
It’s easy to slip into a peaceful lull through the emerald green forests, but I quickly realize I need to keep my wits about me to follow the path, especially on the second half of the trail, where the white blazes are posted less often and where the dappling of the sun on the trees can look deceivingly like the markers.
As I finally come to the end of the McCumber Brook access trail to where my ride is waiting, I feel so full of the natural world that my heart aches. Sometimes it takes experiencing a pandemic for us to make a trip that’s been on our “adventure list” for years, but never gotten around to planning.
IF YOU GO:
When to go: the beginning of June to mid-September offers the best weather, but for glorious fall colours, late fall is also ideal.
For more info: About New Brunswick go to: Tourism New Brunswick; the Acadian Peninsula Veloroute: Veloroute; the Fundy Footpath: Fundy Trail Parkway
Where to stay:
The Acadian Peninsula – Caraquet: Auberge de la Baie Hotel; Shippigan: Motel Brise Marine;
The Fundy Footpath Trail – St. Martins – Beach Street Inn; Saint John – Hilton Saint John
Where to eat: Try fricot (a traditional Acadian chicken stew and dumplings) for lunch at Village Historique Acadien in Bertrand (near Caraquet)
Don’t miss La Terrasse a Steve (close to Shippagan) for a seafood feast.
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