A Mad Dash for Ingonish

It's been a rainy, muggy summer here in Cape Breton.  I mean, yes, we had some sun but mostly on days when I was inside an air-conditioned building at work wishing I was at the beach or camping under the stars.  Even when nice weather happened on the weekend, it was rarely two days in a row which made it hard to enjoy a dry, sunny camping trip that didn't involve either setting up in the rain or waking up in the morning to rain. 

So, last weekend, I came up with an idea.  Thursday evening was forecast to be very nice, Friday was forecast to be nice, Saturday's forecast was rain.  I originally planned to go camping in Ingonish on Friday into Saturday but I hate camping in heavy rain and having to take a wet tent and gear home. I'm off work on Fridays.  So I decided I would leave work at 4:30 on Thursday and drive the 2.5 hours to my favorite campsite and leave later on Friday when it was still dry.  And it turned out perfectly!

I didn't even stop at home on the way, just pulled out of the parking lot at work and drove straight to Ingonish, only stopping for gas.  My plan was to get there in time to set up and be all ready for the night before the sun went down.  Traffic was light and there was no lineup at the Englishtown Ferry. I made it just in time!

With the tent set up, my bed made and everything in it's place, I took a drive down to the point which is about five minutes away from my campsite at Broad Cove, and watched the moon come up while enjoying my coffee.  

Back at my site, I got out my beach chair and set up in a dark corner of the lot and cracked open a beer and waited for the lunar eclipse that would take place later that evening.  When I waited long enough and nothing happened, I went for a walk around the campground.  When I returned, a little piece of the moon was missing.  I got comfortable in my chair and watched the night sky for hours. And the night couldn't have been any more perfect.  It was very warm with no wind, no flies and no clouds. 

When the moon first came up, it was no bright, it was almost like daytime. It was beautiful shining through those tall trees surrounding me! As more of the moon slowly disappeared, it got darker and darker until I could barely see in front of me.  But that night sky!  I don't think I'd ever seen so many stars.  It was close to 1AM by the time the moon was completely covered and the campground had grown so quiet, I could only hear the distant waves washing ashore on Broad Cove Beach. Most everyone had gone to bed leaving me to admire that spectacular night sky alone and in peace and quiet.  

It was quite late when I finally retreated to my tent and the comfy bed I made.  I slept like a log.  I don't remember waking up once during the night and the temperature was prefect for sleeping outdoors.  It's strange because I usually do sleep so much better in a tent than I do in my own bed.  There's just something about the light rustle of leaves, the distant sound of waves rolling ashore and coyotes howling not too far away that lulls me into a peaceful slumber.  Likewise, there's just something about waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the trees!

I was up before 7 the next morning and quickly on my way to North Bay Beach for my morning walk while the dew on the tent dried. After I tore it all down, I headed home.  It was a quick trip but a good one!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chasing the Northern Lights in Cape Breton

It was a chilly fall night about 25 years ago.  Myself and some friends were driving on the dark, lonely highway towards Main-a-dieu on Cape Breton Island when something in the sky caught my eye.  Without thinking, I hit the brake and stared wide-eyed in fear at the strange dancing lights in the night sky ahead of me.  Silence fell over us until a voice from the back seat yelled "let's get the hell out of here".  He didn't have to tell me twice.  I turned around and with tires squealing, I sped in the opposite direction. We were convinced it was some kind of alien invasion or otherworldly catastrophic event.

Having never seen anything like that before, it was only natural that fear would be the initial reaction.  Now I know what I saw that night and when an opportunity arises to experience that again, I race towards it, not away from it.  

I now know what I saw that night all those years ago; I witnessed the incredible Northern Lights, otherwise known as the Aurora Borealis. 

Being a rare occurrence this far south, my sightings of the Northern Lights were limited to Instagram photos and tourism brochures for far-flung destinations.  I always wanted to go to Iceland or Northern Canada to see the lights and often looked up information about these destinations.  Those brochures always came with plenty of awe-inspiring images. Until recently, I never witnessed them again in the night skies above Cape Breton Island. 

It was just over a year ago that I discovered a Facebook page and associated app that was tracking sightings of the Northern Lights over Nova Scotia. Of course, I started to follow the alerts closely.  Every now and then, excited group members would post that the levels were alleviated and conditions were ideal for sightings.  Almost every time I saw these alerts, I'd get my camera gear ready and head out to a dark place to watch...and watch. Usually, it was too cloudy or there was just nothing there to see.  Sometimes I'd see members posting pictures of their sightings and realize that they'd been out earlier or later than me.  

Finally, I got my chance on May 10th.  The alerts came as usual but they came with the added alerts from local, national and even international news that the Northern Lights would be visible in many places that are normally too south to see them.  A solar storm was brewing and it was set to ignite the skies with a spectacular show that would be seen in many places all over the world.  Cape Breton was highlighted on the map as one of those places that had a high chance of witnessing this show. 

I got my camera gear ready, dressed warm and headed to a dark spot to wait and watch.  My first stop was Dominion Beach.  For a while, I saw nothing.  I wasn't sure if it was my eyes playing tricks on me but the sky started to turn a funny color.  I snapped a picture and posted it to the group; they were convinced it was the Northern Lights.  It wasn't quite dark enough to know for sure if that was what I was seeing.  I left and drove to Victoria Mines and set up in my Dad's backyard. I focused on the sky to the North. And there it was. The distinct green, purple and pink streaks flowing through the night sky.  I stood there in awe taking in the beautiful spectacle in front of me.  

My excitement was overwhelming which many people would find strange.  "It's just some lights" some would say.  But for a person like myself who thrives on new experiences and has deep a connection to the natural world, this was something that could not be taken for granted.  I get overly-excited over the littlest things.  Well, they're big things to me even if they are mundane to everyone else.  That's just who I am. 

A text alert on my phone snapped me out of sky -viewing mode.  A friend had seen the alert I posted earlier that day on Facebook reminding everyone to look north and she was wondering if I had seen the lights.  I sent her some of my pictures and she excitedly decided to head out to see them too.  I know I have a true match in a friendship when someone gets this excited about these little things that excite me.  It was 11:30 PM, close to my usual bedtime.  But in case you don't know me by now, my motto in life is "plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead....the time to live is now".  I never turn down an opportunity. I jumped in the car and met my friend in River Ryan where we got the Grand Finale of the Northern Lights show.  The green and purple lights danced over Lingan Bay for several minutes before stopping altogether.  Another example of how life often takes unexpected turns; for a day that started in the most mundane of ways, it ended as an unforgettable night.