“In 1955, the year Logan turned sixty, we decided that it was about time to take a long holiday. We got to thinking it would be an adventure to go east to visit with John and his family. We had never seen his home or taken the opportunity to see the eastern provinces of Canada, and we had heard John talk about all its grandeur for years. It was time to check it out for ourselves.
We had bought a new Chevrolet car that spring. It was Logan’s and my first brand new automobile. It cost us a little over two thousand dollars, as I recall. That was a lot of cash to part with back then. It still is in my books, but a car would cost over ten times that much now, I suppose. We figured there would be no better way to test it out than to go on a road trip.
We were like two newlyweds talking about heading off on our honeymoon. We had never gone so far afield before. The thought of seeing the Atlantic Ocean was exciting. We had seen Lake Ontario, Lake Erie, Georgian Bay, and Lake Huron, of course, during our visits south. Those had been such exhilarating experiences, but to actually get to see the ocean and walk along its shores sounded absolutely thrilling. I broke out in a sweat just thinking about it!
We headed off in early July. We wanted to celebrate Canada Day with our family first. It had become a tradition for all the children to come home that weekend to celebrate and have a reunion. It was a highlight of the summer seeing the grandchildren. Murray and Mary Beth always came north for the parade in town. Jackie, Charity, and Janice joined us. Of course, James and Jake, along with all their families, were in tow as well. As usual, we had a wonderful celebration together.
The children had a little farewell party for us the night before we headed out. They had put their funds together and purchased us a new set of luggage. Inside the one bag, they had tucked a new-fangled two piece bathing suit for me and a camera for their dad. They said they wanted a picture of me swimming in the ocean. What a hoot! Crazy kids.
The first leg of our journey was pretty uneventful. We headed south, then east through Algonquin Park to Ottawa. Then we crossed into Hull, Quebec, and traveled on to Montreal and Quebec City. Being country folk, we were always looking at the landscape, but we did stop briefly to visit various attractions in some of the bigger centers.
In Ottawa we visited the Parliament Buildings and Rideau Hall. We toured by Laurier House and the Chateau Laurier Hotel. I remember thinking how lavish the architecture was. So much of Canada’s history had transpired right there.
We spent a whole day in Montreal, the old part that is. We strolled through the narrow streets stopping at some of the little boutiques. The city was so rich with culture and history. One couldn’t help being in awe while touring the Notre-Dame Basilica. We couldn’t speak a lick of French, but we always found someone who could talk enough English so we could understand each other.
The biggest highlight of Quebec City was seeing the Chateau Frontenac. How magnificent it was. Of course, we didn’t spend the night there. It was out of our price range. We drove across the bridge to a small town up the Saint Lawrence and took a bed there.
We continued to travel along the shoreline of the Saint Lawrence River around the Gaspe Peninsula. The closer we got to the Gulf of the Saint Lawrence, the steeper and craggier the shoreline was. I remember the big ships we saw out on the river. Logan commented that they were a might lot bigger than the boats we had around home.
About two-hundred and fifty miles a day was all we put in. Then Logan would find a spot for us to stop for the night. Those seemed like long days. You have to keep in mind that roads weren’t what they are today, mostly single lane highways. Cars weren’t up to snuff like they are nowadays, either.
It took us five days to get to Percé Rock. We had put over a thousand miles between us and home. It was there that I thought I’d brave my dignity and have Logan get a picture of me in that skimpy outfit our children called a swimsuit. I figured that since nobody there knew us if anyone thought I was being a spectacle, it wouldn’t matter. We’d never see them again anyhow. I waded out into the water a piece and took a quick dip, but swimming was out of the question for this old gal. The water was icy cold. We collected shells along the shore instead. Some of the locals told us later that technically that was still the Gulf of the Saint Lawrence, not the Atlantic Ocean.
Two days later we arrived at John’s in Halifax, Nova Scotia. We were thrilled to see him and his family. All his children and grandchildren were there. What a beehive of excitement. We were so thrilled to finally get there. It had been years since we’d seen some of the grandchildren. They were all growed up, and a couple had gotten married.
We stayed over a week at John’s. A lot of the time we just spent visiting and catching up, but John took us to see all the highlights of Halifax. The city was full of history with lots to take in. We went to the harbour and watched all the ships. I recall looking out into the horizon and realizing that the blue in the sky blended with the blue of the ocean, and I could not make out where one started and the other ended. I was in awe!
Of course, Pier 21 was on the agenda. That’s where my grandparents had landed when they came to Canada over a century before. I couldn’t help but think how they would have felt about finally coming ashore after months at sea and wondered what their thoughts were of this unfamiliar place. This was a whole new world to them and their new home, this beautiful country of Canada.
We said our good-byes to John and his family and headed off on our own to explore more of the eastern provinces. We took a few days and ventured all around Nova Scotia, visiting Peggy’s Cove, the Bay of Fundy, and Cape Breton. The air was salty and the scenery was breath-taking. We even saw some whales. Now that was something to behold.
As we traveled around the coast, we stopped at little road-side stands to get a bite to eat. I tempted my pallet with every kind of seafood I’d ever heard of. Logan wasn’t quite so adventurous. He kept to hamburgers and hotdogs, and other familiar eats. Bottled soda pop was becoming very popular by then, and we sure drank our fill of it.
We took the ferry across to Prince Edward Island to take in the sights, as well. That was the first big boat ride we’d ever been on. Logan faired out fine, but I got a little green. I couldn’t go down below at all. I had to stand at the railing the whole time or I’d a lost my breakfast. Logan got a chuckle out of that.
Today folks can drive over on the Confederation Bridge crossing those eight miles. Imagine that! Not in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought anything like that could have been done. It’s been open for five years now I guess. They finished it in 1997. Anyway, we took the ferry back then to cross.
We spent a few days on the island driving around. We pulled into a potato farm and just took to chatting with the owner. We told him where we had come from, and he was excited to meet us and took us for a tour of his operation. Country folk are the same no matter where they live. They are just down-home and hospitable. They had us stay on for supper and the night. Wouldn’t hear tell of us looking for a room elsewhere. Really nice folks.
In the morning we headed off. They gave us directions to a beach, and we went down there and walked on the red sand beach. I remember it staining our shoes. We reminisced about that for years later. Not another soul was there, just us two honeymooners walking barefooted, hand in hand with the ocean rippling over our feet.
On our way back to meet the ferry, we stopped at a small fishing town and came across a lobster factory at the dock. We were intrigued with the process, and after getting to chatting with a couple of the workers, they gave us a tour. They were such friendly people.
Once we were back on high ground, Logan faced the car west, and we started on our homeward trek. We had put a lot of miles behind us since we had departed from our home. We were both getting somewhat homesick, and tired of restaurant food.
We ventured through New Brunswick, taking in a few highlights. Outside Moncton we stopped at the famous “Magnetic Hill”. In Saint John we watched the tidal change at the “Reversing Falls”. In Fredericton we drove through the historical “Garrison District”, which is now an historical site. It was all very remarkable for us to take in.
Of course, the Appalachian Mountains that run through New Brunswick are magnificent to see all on their own. We had passed through them going around the Gaspé Peninsula into New Brunswick, and we went through them on the other side heading toward Quebec. It was very picturesque scenery. Logan and I certainly appreciated it. Nature’s beauty should never be taken for granted. We should savour it.
As we entered Quebec on our homeward trek, we had one thing on our mind. That was to get home. We stopped for the night to rest, then carried on back into Ontario the next day.
We had been gone for over three weeks when we finally pulled into our own driveway, back here in the beautiful outback of the “Near North” of Ontario. What a welcoming sight, the green, green grass of home. Logan looked at the odometer and commented that we’d ventured over thirty-six hundred miles. What a remarkable road trip. Our new “Chevy” was broken in!”