Hidden Gems in the ‘Land of Dawn’

Note: Marion Patterson and a friend, Susan Hrobar grew up in the Northeast. Now Midwesterners, they conspired to reconnect with family and friends there. Following are their reflections on the trip.

After a year of planning and just after Labor Day, we headed back “home” to visit our native state, reconnect with friends and family, and explore the hidden gems in the Land of the Dawn — North America’s northeast, where the rising sun first hits the United States and Canada. Our mantras became: “We have options,” and “Belts and Suspenders.” Read: Be flexible and prepared.

Tourists flock to the region in summer and again during October’s magnificent leaf color season. In-between times, tourists are down, festivals abound and attractions, hotels and restaurants open.

Our route

The trip seemed magical from the start with on time flights into Manchester, New Hampshire, close to our hometown of Goffstown. Ours was a giant clockwise route as we worked our way “Down East,” up the Maine highlands, motored along the Trans-Canada Highway into New Brunswick’s capital, Fredericton. Skirting the eastern edge of the vast, northern forested New Brunswick interior we explored Miramichi then drove along the Northumberland Strait to Sackville, New Brunswick. Paralleling the Bay of Fundy, we returned to the states via coastal Maine.

We knew cellphone coverage can be spotty, (paper maps are handy) and that the Maine Turnpike still accepts cash tolls. (Cash is king!) Slipping through customs was easy, but shifting to the metric system made us nervous. A pleasant Canadian official quipped, “If you are passing everyone else, you probably are going too fast.”

Connections

Families chatted amicably. Insiders pointed out quirky stops. Two school chums made a “traveling survival kit” that would pass border inspection. Another treated us to walks and ice cream along the Marginal Way in Ogunquit, Maine.

We comfortably intermingled with different families, appreciating heirloom quilts, wandering woodlands with scarlet bunch berries and aromatic balsam firs, noshing on seafood and diving into deep ancestry.

Lodging

Friends and family graciously hosted us in renovated New England farmhouses and modern condominiums overlooking the ocean. The Airbnbs we reserved were wonderfully different. Bangor’s Airbnb host helped us settle and recommended the High Tide restaurant. At Fredericton’s modern Airbnb near the Wolastoq River (now the St. John) the aroma of warm cinnamon rolls greeted us. One Airbnb we couldn’t snag was the Dorchester Jail Airbnb in New Brunswick. Full up! It sounded creepily fun.

Natural resources, history & culture

The overlook stop of Mount Katahdin, the end of the Appalachian Trail, was a good break. The mountain range itself, extends far into Canada. Katahdin, means “Greatest Mountain” from the Penobscots, of the Wabanaki Confederation. These People of the Dawn, where the sun first strikes the North American continent, were first guardians of this rugged land. Our friend Sue’s heritage stretches back to Pilgrims and England’s Kings courts. I grew up with stories of the lands of the First Nations people — the Passamaquoddy, Penobscot and Abenaki.

Over eons of time the land masses buckled, heaved and were wrenched apart forming what we know as Down East and Atlantic Canada. Looking at a map you can imagine Nova Scotia nestled alongside New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island tucked into the curve of both. Now these Maritime Provinces are separated by the Bay of Fundy, with its incredible tidal variation, sea caves, and stunning headlands, and the Northumberland Strait, known for excellent fishing and dangerous shoals. Newfoundland, way out to sea, is part of and separate from mainland Labrador. Unique in itself.

Throughout, are reminders of New Brunswick’s varied heritage and cultures. Irish, Scottish, and Loyalists among them. Names of First Nations rivers and towns abound. Officially bilingual, New Brunswick signs appear in French and English. Many speak both and First Nation languages. Like the geological forces, each group wrestled with the other and now live more harmoniously. The Francophone influence is most evident along the Northumberland Strait and around Moncton where the Acadian flag flies prominently.

New Brunswick’s resourced-based industries include forestry, mining, agriculture and fisheries. Loaded lumber trucks rumbled past. The sandy soils of western New Brunswick are potato growing country. Cropped fields lay scattered across the province.

Inland we saw little wildlife, but did catch sight of a black bear scampering across a highway and a moose in a marsh. Along the ocean waterfowl bobbed on rough waters.

Fishing dominates along New Brunswick’s Northumberland Strait, the major rivers, and the Bay of Fundy. This practical industry coexists with tourism. And people flock to eateries to taste the ocean’s offerings.

Foods

Seafood is a hallmark anywhere in the Land of the Dawn. We were delighted with the variety — from whole lobsters, to rolls, to bisques, chowders, shrimp and oysters. Arrive early at any of the local farmers markets where people with produce-ladened handbags stroll and enjoy fall weather. There you can learn about hidden gems.

Hidden gems

Who knew that New Brunswick boasts several giant sculptures like a lobster, a conch shell, a potato, and an ax. Each is a nod to fishing, farming and logging. The big ax in Nackawic just over the border from inland Maine, was too funky to pass up. The 49-foot handle, 49 feet and imposing 23-foot-wide blade dwarf visitors. Tucked into the cove at Shediac on the way to the Confederation Bridge and Prince Edward Island, the giant lobster caught our eye.

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Magnetic Hill in Moncton, New Brunswick, deceives the eye by creating the illusion of moving in one direction when you are really moving the opposite. Unnerving.

You can’t visit the northeast without searching out covered bridges. We found a few long bypassed by modern highways as we bumped down “Deliverance” feeling lanes. Of the 58 covered bridges in New Brunswick, Sussex, Kings County, boasts 16. Gregarious Hrobar, noting different license plates, struck up a conversation with fellow “bridgers,” a cross-country traveling couple, who pointed us to the ongoing balloon fest in Sussex.

Clear autumn-like days morphed into scenic mist into very dense fog. With car flashers blinking we crept up twisting headland roads along the Bay of Fundy. Descending to the village of St. Martin’s the fog magically lifted. Fishing boats high and dry at low tide, New Brunswick’s newest and double lane covered bridge, sea caves, and lighthouses were ours to explore.

Other hidden gems are lighthouses that dot the Northumberland Strait and the Bay of Fundy. Many are smaller, placed along river mouths to guide fishermen and boaters safely ashore. Finding some sites was challenging. Driving through a pounding rain and after several wrong turns in Miramichi we spotted one down a private lane. The owner warmly welcomed us. Pointing the way to the weathered lighthouse he said, “My wife and I are in negotiation on repainting one more time.” We thought “negotiation” a curious turn of phrase.

After exploring the cozy three level lighthouse, he regaled us with stories of buying, moving and renovating it. A good retirement project for a judge on the Court of King’s Bench! That clarified the term “negotiation.” We chatted about geology, geography, and the impact of changing climate on the Miramichi Atlantic salmon fishery industry. The Judge pointed out, “This river system is truly world famous for its fly fishing for salmon! It’s one of the best in Eastern Canada.”

Some gems were truly hidden by rain and confusing road signs. We nearly missed Kouchibouguac National Park. A birders’ delight. Strangely, a lively party of picnickers greeted us in the downpour. What a laugh when we realized they are life-sized statues.

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One stop we did miss because of timing is Le Pays de la Sagouine, an immersive Acadian experience. Next time!

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A well-known gem to take in is the Bay of Fundy tides. It’s one of the highest in the world — how high water rises from low tide to high tide. In southwest New Brunswick the rise is about 11 feet. In the northeast at Hopewell Rocks it is an impressive 54 feet from low to high tide. At low tide people explore the damp shorelines for agates. At high tide kayakers paddle among the “flower pot” stone structures.

As the Bay narrows, fresh water flows in meeting the rising tide. This creates a seiche — sloshing — of water. According to Neil Hodge, Travel Media representative of New Brunswick, the rippling waves on the incoming tide give surfers a miles-long surfing experience. Only professional surfers are allowed permits and must have a rescue boat along.

Hodge pointed us to the hidden gem of the Reversing Falls Rapids at St. John. Here convoluted fingers and fjords of the Wolastoq-St. John River, one of the largest watersheds in the northeast, finally dump into the Bay of Fundy. The powerful incoming tides cause a maelstrom as seawater overwhelms fresh water pushing back on itself. According to Hodge the actual falls are hidden below the water’s surface.

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Another gem we discovered after crossing the border at Calais, Maine, (pronounced callus) was the swarm of pirates at Eastport where the sun first touches the United States. Pirates? Aye, matey. Eastport’s famous Pirate Festival was wrapping up with eateries in full swing and pirates swaggering and posing for pictures.

Following Maine’s Airline Road, we dropped down to Acadia National Park. Late summer visitors hiked, bicycled, and reserved space online to drive up Mount Cadillac for a spectacular view of the ocean. At Jordan’s Cove we settled in for a warm beverage, popovers, and a classic Maine vista — brilliant trees clinging to pink granite ledges. Then, we were on our way to the gem of the western and less frenetic part of Acadia.

By now, we were ready for the quiet Highlands of Bangor. Our Airbnb was a short walk from the home of its famous son, Stephen King. Peering through the bat-adorned gates at the impressive mansion we imagined the horror stories.

Our last stop, back in New Hampshire, was another hidden gem. On the paper map, Sue spotted the Robert Frost farm in Derry, New Hampshire. As we walked the path that rimmed the hayfield, with plaques of well-known poems, we reflected on our journey and the many hidden gems we’d uncovered.

On our return flights, Sue sighed remembering all the twists and turns that yielded surprises making for a great adventure. “We were willing to change our plans at the drop of a hat,” she reflected. “What fun to see the non-touristy hidden gems of the Land of the Dawn.” Now we were coming back home — to the Midwest.