Biking to Évangéline

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

-- from "Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie," by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Anyone who visits the Canadian Maritimes would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss the fact that this is the heart of Acadia.  We were keenly aware of that when we made reservations to stay at our campground, Camping Colibri Sur Mer, here in beautiful Caraquet, New Brunswick.  Situated on the shore of Chaleur Bay in the Acadian Peninsula, Caraquet's name is derived from the Mi'kmaq term for "meeting of two rivers." The Caraquet River and Rivière du Nord flow into the Caraquet Bay west of the town.

Caraquet was first settled by a French trader and merchant who married a Mi'kmaq woman and settled in Lower Caraquet (Bas Caraquet). After the expulsion of the Acadians from southern New Brunswick and Nova Scotia in 1755, some Acadians settled in Upper Caraquet (Haute Caraquet).  The Expulsion of the Acadians, also known as the Great Upheaval, the Great Expulsion, the Great Deportation and Le Grand Dérangement, was the forced removal by the British of the Acadian people from Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island during the period from 1755 to 1764, as part of the French and Indian War (known in Britain and France as the Seven Years' War). Of the 14,100 Acadians in the region, approximately 11,500 -- or over 80% -- were deported.

"Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie" is an epic poem published in 1847 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Set during the time of the Expulsion of the Acadians from Canada, it tells the story of an Acadian girl named Evangeline and her search for her lost love Gabriel.  Even though the poem is fiction, and has been shown to be based on a number of historic innacuracies, nevertheless, the poem served to memorialize the displacement and suffering of French Canadians in this area.  It was particularly meaningful to us because we just stayed in Cajun Louisiana for Mardi Gras.  The Cajuns trace their ancestry directly to a small number of Acadian families who found their way to Louisiana as a result of the Great Expulsion.

We spotted a local village named Évangéline which, conveniently, is located about 15 miles from our campground along the Sentier New Brunswick Trail. The Sentier NB Trail is a network of hiking trails in New Brunswick, Canada built on abandoned railways. The trails are mostly closed to motorized vehicles. The network is operated by the New Brunswick Trails Council, a non-profit organization. Some portions of the trail are also part of the Trans Canada Trail.

This couldn't have been more perfectly designed for us!  So we donned our biking gear, mounted our bikes, and left our campground overlooking the Baie des Chaleurs:

It was only a mile or so to the trail.  Once on the trail itself, we enjoyed a few miles of well-maintained asphalt trail that ran, first, along the Bay.  Here we crossed where the two rivers -- the Caraquet River and the Riviere du Nord, empty into the Bay:

The town of Caraquet has constructed a beautiful picnic pavillion overlooking the Bay.  We stopped to look out at the view:

Cycling further, we started into the center of Caraquet, and caught sight of St. Peter's Catholic Church at the west end of town:

After passing through the main part of town, we pedaled through the eastern suburbs, and ran into this ducky denizen out for his own constitutional.  He flew away as we got closer:

Our trail led us to a small wooden bridge across the St. Simon River, which was very picturesque:

Looking downriver, the clouds reflected in the slow-moving waters to give us a wonderful sense of well-being:

Further along the trail, after the pavement ended, the land around us grew wilder.  We spotted moose tracks on the trail as we rode, and caught sight of this Canadian marmot, who froze as we approached and ironically gave us a decent chance to snap his portrait:

After about 14 miles, we reached the crossroads for our turn to the village of Évangéline.  Here, the trail turned from rough gravel to grass-and-dirt (read, "mud" after yesterday's heavy rains and snow).

We hoped that Évangéline, due to its name, might have some history or buildings of significance to us in connection with Acadian history.  That was not to be.  It was merely a small crossroads with nothing remarkable historically.  But, since Évangéline was our destination, we dismounted and rested while eating our sandwiches for lunch.  While eating, we noticed one interesting nearby building with an even-more-interesting pink automobile, and David couldn't resist capturing it for posterity:

Having rested (at least somewhat), we turned back the way we came.  Our little grassy farm road from Évangéline boasted TWO stop signs as it approached our bike trail:

Because this is a multi-use trail that serves snowmobiles and ATV's as well as bikes and hikers, it is well signed.  It boasts a route number and signs denoting destinations (in this case, e.g., Caraquet -- 17 km -- and our favorite, Tim Hortons -- also 17 km because it was in downtown Caraquet).  We guess that the trail signs were funded by donations by the (ahem) destinations noted on the signs.  A pretty good example of Canada's approach to public-private partnerships to nurture outdoor destinations and activities:

Well, what do you know?  One intersection sign boasted an electric guitar (for unexplained reasons).  David tried it out to be sure it was genuine:

Although this was our return trip, and often the return trip doesn't offer many rewards beyond those on the outward bound ride, in this case, we got two great, new rewards!  We encountered a moose in the trees beside the trail, but the moose moved so fast away from us that we didn't have time to photograph it.  Still, it was exciting, since our earlier discovery of moose tracks had alerted us to the presence of moose, and we were hoping we would spot one.

Our next encounter was with a furry (spiny?) fellow who, because he moved a bit slower, was more accommodating to our photographic urges.  Porcupine are pretty common in this region, but he was still an interesting find:

That was about it for the rest of the ride, other than the fact that, after nearly 30 miles of rough bike trail, our poor quads (and other parts of our anatomy) were really feeling the pain.  But we had the smooth asphalt to soothe our sore legs as we passed back through Caraquet and back toward our campground, which made us feel better.

Needless to say, not even a minute elapsed between our arrival back at our campsite and our breaking out the Happy Hour libations.  Seems the muscles don't feel as sore when they're massaged with a little beer or wine.

Cheers!