Bday Trip 2018 – The Tide Is High (and Low)

I got to my hotel in Moncton – finally – and was told I had been given an upgrade at the front desk. I’m not exactly sure how that was an upgrade, but at least there was a clean room and king size bed. Unfortunately, there was also a loud AF French Canadian family that did not understand the concept of inside voice and thought everyone on the floor needed to hear their conversation so they stood in the hallway to conduct it. I finally yelled at them, in French, to shut the hell up and take it into their room. I must have shocked them because they did indeed go into their room. My high school French teachers would be so proud to know I retained some of the language.

I had to set an alarm clock, but it was vitally important that I get up early so I could get full enjoyment out of my destination the next day. I grumbled a bit at 7am when the alarm went off, but grabbing a bite of the free breakfast helped take the edge off of my crabbiness. I was relieved to see that it only overcast, not raining, as I loaded up the car again and put the top down just to tempt fate. Downtown Moncton is actually kinda cute, with a boardwalk along the Petitcodiac River. This river is also known as the Chocolate River – no, not because it resembles the river that ran through Willy Wonka’s factory because if it was a real chocolate river I would still be in Moncton trying to drain the damn thing dry. No, it’s called the Chocolate River because of the silty brown coloration. You may think it’s a polluted watershed based on the color but it’s actually that color due to the sediment in the water (it could also be polluted for all I know)…

The river is also notable for its tidal bore because it is located along the Bay of Fundy. You may have heard of this geologic wonder of the world. It has the highest tides in the world (as much as 16m or 56 feet, the height of a 5-story building) and you can experience high tide and low tide twice a day. At Hopewell Rocks, you can walk on the ocean floor at low tide while taking photos of the 40 to 70 foot tall rock formations. And then at high tide, you can watch the water cover the ground that you were just standing on an hour ago. I know it’s totally nerdy but I had wanted to see the Bay of Fundy ever since I had read about it in an encyclopedia as a child. And because access to the ocean floor to walk among the rocks is only available during low tide, I needed to get to the park as soon as I could to time my morning visit for low tide. By noon, all access would be cut off because of the incoming high tide. I drove Route 114 south until I reached the park entrance, glad to see that I could still park in the lot closest to the entry gate. It wasn’t that crowded yet.

At the entrance, you can pay to ride the shuttle to take you down the sloping path to the rocks or you can walk a paved path through the forest. I’m assuming most people don’t mind the downhill portion but I overheard more than one person asking if they could buy their way onto the shuttle going uphill (you can’t as far as I know). I needed the exercise after being in the driver’s seat for a significant time and enjoyed the early morning cool air during my walk.

Once at the rocks, I clamored down the staircase to walk along the exposed sea floor. The water was some distance away and I was finding it hard to believe that in a few hours, it would not only be closer, but 10 feet or more of water would be covering where I stood. The rock formations, created by the erosion of the water, are in a variety of shapes that I would call…suggestive. Mother Nature apparently has a dirty mind (or maybe it’s me). It took everything in me not to say out loud what they resembled; but suffice to say there seem to be a lot of phallus-looking rocks and sea cave openings that looked like I was peering into birth canals. My dad was just as low-brow as me and would have gotten a kick out of it. So I decided to scatter some of his ashes in a sea cave. I knew that with the incoming tide, it would be carried away by the rushing waters but somehow, that just seemed right.

But of course, I was weeping and there were hordes of rambunctious children trying to climb all over every surface they could find. So I needed to find a hidden ledge to scatter his ashes and would provide me the space to compose myself. Fortunately, the sun was burning off the misty fog and I could put on my sunglasses without looking too conspicuous once I got a hold of myself. And the rangers were starting to herd people back towards the staircase since the tide was coming in; so soon after I got myself together everyone needed to leave the vicinity of the cave anyway. Every once in a while, I would peek around the rangers to see the water slowly overtaking what had been dry land just 10 minutes prior. Finally, a little after noon, I decided to climb the staircase as I didn’t want to have to wade through water to reach the lowest steps. I stood with some other tourists for about an hour and watched as kayakers floated between the tops of the rock. I know it sounds ridiculous but it was mind-blowing to keep looking at the water levels rising like that and submerging entire large rocks that people had just been climbing over an hour or so ago.

Hopewell Rocks, Low Tide

Hide Tide, Hopewell Rocks

At 1pm, I realized that I needed to get a move on because I had a good five-hour drive to my next destination. I slowly made my way uphill, realizing that there were considerably more people in the park than there were when I first got there. I was glad I had gotten myself up early to take advantage of the relative crowd-free environment. The second low tide promised to have considerably more people trying to take selfies and photos of their friends pretending to push over the rocks. (Seriously, is that in some leaflet they hand out at the entrance? Take photos with all 6 of these annoying poses and get a free t-shirt or something?)

By now the sun was high in the sky and it was definitely top down weather. I got into my car, lathered up on the sunscreen, and pushed the button to create that satisfying rumble of the engine starting up. The top came down, drawing envious glances from at least three groups of people making their way to the entry gate. And I took off back up Route 114, through Moncton, eventually heading east on the Trans-Canada Highway, back towards Nova Scotia.

The damn Cobequid Pass psyched me out, threatening rain but never actually delivering. But it was enough for me to put the top up for a stretch of time. Sitting in the toll booth waiting for my change, I used it as an opportunity to rectify my earlier mistake and the toll taker woman admired my car and top-down status before handing me my change and sending me on my way to speed along the very hilly sections prior to hitting Truro.

Near Truro, I exited onto 102 South heading towards Halifax. By this point, I was less fearful of authorities looking for speeders. While I usually allowed a pace car to go in front of me to attract all of the attention, at times even those cars outpaced me, despite me going at least 20kph over the posted speed limit. I took Highway 102 all the way past the Halifax metro area, eventually finding myself on Highway 103. About five hours after I left Hopewell Rocks, I ended up in Mahone Bay, where I had accommodations in a B&B for the night.

Seeing the tides at the Bay of Fundy was one of those things that I was really worried melanoma might have robbed me of. It was definitely something that, despite my sadness over missing my dad so much, made me thankful and grateful I had a chance to go see one of Nature’s coolest and subtle experiences.

More birthday trip adventure coming up next…