history – Page 2 – Roadkill Crossing

Walking Around Sydney, Nova Scotia

Our intrepid guide, John Bourgeois. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

We arrived at 7 a.m. at the Port of Sydney, Nova Scotia, located on the eastern end of Cape Breton Island. From our veranda, the old town still seemed to be asleep.

Before we left the ship, we couldn’t help but notice a giant fiddle on the dock, welcoming visitors to this intriguing town. At 60 feet tall, the largest fiddle in the world stands as a tribute to the island’s Celtic heritage and in reverence to its decades of fiddling.

We opted for a walking tour around the town over another long bus ride into the country. We were glad we did. We hardly lost sight of the Zuiderdam, which was fine with us.

Our morning stroll around Sydney was just that, very leisurely. Our guide was a character, dressed in period clothes, and unafraid to express his opinion. He was a hoot. With a name like John Bourgeois, did he have any other option? His surname gave away his personality.

John clearly loved his native town. His folklore stories of mysterious intrigue easily kept our attention. John knew the town’s history like the back of his hand. He should have. His family name went back generations, enabling him to interject personal ancestral history into his tantalizing tales. Perhaps some of them were true.

As we walked up hill from the dock, John took his time with his steps and his words. He knew himself and his town well.

John pointed out the Royal Bank Lion Monument, a symbol of power at the start of the prosperous steel mill days, now long defunct. He drew our attention to the now-abandoned church with an upside-down ship’s hull for a roof, the house where the ladies summoned the beleaguered sailors returning from a long voyage, and the community’s old firehouse, now a mustard-yellow painted two-story home with a bright blue door.

We enjoyed the flower gardens of lovely old two-story homes still occupied by long-term residents, and toured an old building that served as a residence and general store. It’s an impressive museum in its third life. We spied a Paul Bunyan-style mural of a hockey player that honored the beloved Canadian sport.

After giving John a generous tip for his honesty and folksy stories, I asked him for directions to a restaurant he recommended. He said it was just a little way straight ahead. A half-mile later, I found it, and the restaurant was closed. Apparently, I was as magnanimous as I thought.

We walked back to the Joan Harriss Cruise Pavilion, where we found a restaurant with lobster rolls. It was a relaxing way to end our walk around Sydney.

As our ship left the dock and headed out of the inlet, I realized that Sydney was much more than what we saw on our walking tour. The roofs of houses and church spires stretched far inland.

We passed the old coal tipple where ships loaded the once major export. Like the steel mills, the mines are now shuttered. Farther out along the peninsula, a forested backdrop highlighted impressive homes, rural stone churches, and a lighthouse where the harbor pilot boarded his boat for the ride home.

We enjoyed another musical performance after a nice dinner and called it a day. Halifax was our next highly anticipated destination.

Surprises on Prince Edward Island

The House of Green Gables. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Prince Edward Island. Consequently, what the island offered surprised me.

We rose as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon into a cloudless sky. That correctly portended a fair weather day for our afternoon excursion to the Green Gables House and Museum.

Based on the comments of others who had been to PEI, I expected Charlottetown to be dotted with quaint, lovely houses. If they were there, we didn’t see them.

Our bus trip to the Green Gables Heritage Place included a sightseeing tour of the island. However, because the house is located on the other side of the island from the port, it was basically an hour’s drive out and another one back on the same roads.

We saw the fertile red soil that produces a variety of crops grown in many other locations. Prince Edward Island is the potato capital of Canada. I thought that, impressive as big as Canada is, and given that PEI is Canada’s smallest province, with 2,185 square miles.

On the way to our destination, we passed Lucy Maud Montgomery’s gravesite, located not far from the beloved homestead that inspired her writing. Here, too, I wished the bus would have stopped for photo opportunities. But we were on a three-hour tour, and I wanted to make sure we arrived back at the ship before the 4:30 p.m. departure.

We enjoyed the self-guided trek through the old house, all decked out with appropriate period furniture. However, the only piece of furniture that was original to the home was the halltree.

Those familiar with “Anne of Green Gables” likely could imagine reading about Anne’s escapades as we ventured from room to room, upstairs and down. I was particularly impressed with the meticulously manicured grounds.

Lovely flowers were in full bloom. Not a weed could be found in the modest vegetable garden. A variety of songbirds sang among the trees and flower gardens around the sloping property.

I spied a path that led to the woods where Anne frolicked, and I took it more for birding purposes than curiosity. I crossed the footbridge over the creek and up into the woods, only to stop short.

The woods soon gave way to a different kind of green. The Green Gables Gold Course surrounded the historic homestead. I sucked the breath right out of me. I pondered what L. M. Montgery might think about that.

Returning to the museum to meet my wife, I asked our step-on guide about the irony of a golf course encapsulating this historic site. The kindly lady merely informed me that PEI was the golf capital of Canada.

I was taken aback by that, since we had only seen rolling agricultural fields with occasional crossroad towns since we left Charlottetown. My wife and I found a shady spot and enjoyed our snack lunch before boarding the bus for our next stop.

A short drive brought us to Prince Edward Island National Park. The park was a narrow but expansive area that included long stretches of red rock cliffs with white sand beaches below. The Gulf of St. Lawrence stretched out deep and wide before us.

Too soon, we were back on the bus retracing our tracks to Port Charlottetown. We made it back to the Zuiderdam with little time to spare.

The aft of the ship was moored to a cement platform in the harbor. A local longshoreman and his female crew piloted out to untie the giant rope that steadied the docked cruiseliner. On the way, two young females entertained us by pretending to be those human-like wind socks that many car dealerships use to get your attention. Their imitation was a fun send-off for us.

As our ship pulled out into the Hillsborough River, we could see more of Charlottetown. With its church spires, busy harbor, shoreline parks, and colorful cottages and homes, it was indeed a charming town.

Sailboats, pleasure boats, and fishing boats escorted us back to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. A pair of red-roofed, white lighthouses accented by lush evergreens and patches of PEI’s famous red soil bid us farewell.

The seas turned a deep, stunning blue as nighttime approached. That meant dinnertime and more cruise ship entertainment. The day of surprises had tired me out, and sleep came easily.

A Quick Stop in Old Quebec City

Part of the Royal Battery and rowhouses along the St. Lawrence River. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Our stay in Quebec City was much too short. Shortly after we checked into our hotel just outside the wall around Old Quebec, it began to rain. Still, our guide gave us a brief walk around a few blocks before guiding us back to the hotel.

We opted to have dinner at the hotel due to the combination of the rain and our long bus trip. We were tired.

Fortunately, we arrived via a narrow road that took us by the Citadel of Quebec, and an old neighborhood of lovely houses and quaint restaurants. To our right was the St. Lawrence River, where we would cruise for two days before reaching the Canadian Maritime provinces.

The most impressive building we saw was the famous Chateau Frontenac, now a Fairmont Hotel, which looms over the old city and must look rather impressive from the river. We weren’t fortunate enough to stay there.

So, we enjoyed a dinner with fellow travelers and got to know some of them better. We were all ready to board our cruise ship in the morning.

Vibrant Montreal

Victoria Square, Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

I had never been to Montreal, Canada, before. I was pleasantly surprised.

Montreal is a beautiful, clean, vibrant, progressive city. Montreal is proud of its heritage, which it works hard to preserve. It also embraces the arts, with brightly colored murals, statues, sculptures, and well-preserved historic buildings.

The photo above represents all of those qualities and more. The artistic ring set in Victoria Square has a significant purpose for the people of Montreal. Amid the gleaming buildings, the ring points to the distant hill in the background.

To residents of Montreal, it’s not a hill. The island city worships its Mount Royal as a mountain, though it is only 764 feet high. It provides excellent views of the city, including the sports venue for Expo 67. Mount Royal is part park, part cemetery. It’s a green paradise surrounded by a bustling city.

To get there, we passed city parks with modern art and sculptures adorning towering, modern buildings, a respected university, bohemian rowhouses, and an impressive, giant portrait of native Leonard Cohen covering the entire side of a building.

We also saw Montreal’s apartment icon, Habitat 67, built for Expo 67. The complex looks like cardboard boxes stacked on top of one another. We visited Old Montreal, where we saw the Notre Dame Basilica and the Bank of Montreal’s legal headquarters opposite the church. It’s an architectural beauty, built to disguise it from looking like a bank.

Anchoring the Place d’Armes square is the Maisonneuve Monument erected for the founder of Montreal, Paul de Chomedey. The base of the impressive monument honors other significant contributors to Montreal’s history, including the Iroquois Native Americans.

We had lunch in the Old Montreal section, which could have been a setting in any European city. People filled the streets, restaurants, and cafes.

We said goodbye to Montreal and headed to Quebec City.

Passage Through Vermont

The Vermont State House, Montpelier, Vermont. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

The third day, we traveled from our ski lodge in New Hampshire to the Vermont state capital in Montpelier. We passed Mt. Washington on the west side and then into the Green Mountain State. In French, “les monts vert” means Green Mountains.

Our first stop was at a sugar maple syrup farm, where we viewed the process of making syrup. We also got to sample “sugar snow.” Crushed ice was used in place of snow since we were there in late June.

We poured hot maple syrup over crushed ice in a hot dog container, then twirled a fork around the cooling syrup so we could taste this treat. It was absolutely amazing. To me, it tasted better than candy.

The proprietors provided a glass of water, a dinner roll, and a dill pickle to help with digestion after eating all that sweetness. I had a sip of water and then ate the pickle just to see the resulting consequences. I liked it. The pickle indeed neutralized the intense sweetness of the cooled syrup. I couldn’t eat the roll since I am gluten-free.

From there, it was on to the Vermont state capital in Montpelier. We had time to tour the unique capital building and find lunch. Since it was drizzling, we decided to eat in the building’s small cafe.

I was impressed with the building’s modesty, compared to other, more gaudy state capitals. We entered through a side door that a police guard had opened, and we were also free to roam around. There were no metal detectors.

A giant painting of a Civil War scene caught my attention. Benjamin Franklin Mason painted the Battle of Cedar Creek, which happened only 40 miles north of where we live in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. A Vermont military leader led a Union charge against a formidable Confederate defense. Col. Newton Stone was later killed in the Civil War Battle of the Wilderness.

We found a small office that had photos of all 50 U.S. state capital buildings. It covered an entire end wall.

High school students from around Vermont were holding a mock session of the state legislature. So, we had to be quiet as we peeked into the modestly appointed meeting room with a dangling chandelier in the center.

Too soon, we boarded the bus and headed to Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Crossing the border in a remote rural area like northeast Vermont went so smoothly that I don’t even remember it.

The Kancamagus Highway

Our little tour group headed north out of Boston on the first full day of our land/cruise trip through parts of New England and into eastern Canada.

Looking at the itinerary, my wife and I realized that we would be seeing much of the same scenery that we had when we visited New Hampshire and Vermont six years ago. That didn’t deter our anticipation, however. We loved visiting both states and looked forward to new adventures.

We briefly visited Franconia State Park, and then drove eastward along the Kancamagus Highway that runs from Lincoln to Conway, New Hampshire. My wife and I drove it westbound in 2019.

It was much easier driving a personal vehicle than being a passenger in a large bus. I wanted to shout “stop” multiple times as we passed scenic overlooks and lovely White Mountain vistas. Of course, I didn’t do that.

The bus made two stops, both near the terminus of the famous scenic highway. Our first stop was at the Lower Falls on the Swift River that winds its way east toward Conway.

Because of the hot and humid weather, we weren’t alone at the falls. Families and couples, young and old, cooled off in the rushing waters of the aptly named river.

A boardwalk parallel to the river made it easy to observe the fun in the water. As a photographer, I sought a better angle near the refreshing waters, though I had no intention of joining the swimmers.

The above photo shows the majesty of Swift River and its gorgeous surroundings of lush evergreens and deciduous trees that climb the mountainsides. We were fortunate to have pleasant though warm weather.

I waited until the splashing went farther downstream before snapping this photo. The wavy boulders show the eons of wear and erosion from constant, fast-running water rushing down the valley.

Closer to Conway, where the terrain flattens out, the waters slow their pace and broaden their banks. Where the rapids and falls are is where the real action is. I was glad to see it again.

My Latest Trip, One Photo Per Stop

The Tea Party Museum, Boston, Massachusetts. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

My wife and I recently did a land/sea tour of part of New England and eastern Canada. Our small group covered a lot of ground in two weeks.

Instead of inundating you with multiple photographs and detailed descriptions of the places we visited, I challenged myself to choose one photo from each day. That’s not an easy task when you see so many historical spots and scenic landscapes.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this attempt at super-summarizing our two-week trip.

Boston, Massachusetts, was our first stop. Neither my wife nor I had ever been to this historic city that played such an essential part in the development of the United States of America. So, we flew in a day early to get settled.

Like much of the rest of the country, Boston was unusually hot for the end of June. Consequently, we opted for a trolley tour of the bustling, unfamiliar city to avoid excessive walking. That limited my usual way of photographing our trip’s highlights. Still, I was able to capture the combination of the deep history and fast pace of this 21st-century city.

I chose the photo of the replica sailing ships moored at the docks of the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum because it best represented both the history and the current vibe of Boston.

The Sons of Liberty set in motion the American Revolution by dumping 342 chests of East India Company tea into the harbor. The War of Independence began two years later near Boston.

But look beyond the vessels to the green space along the waterfront to the modern office buildings. See the bridges that connect the many commercial and business areas on and near the waterfront. This scene is but a microcosm of the thriving port city of Boston as it was in the early colonial days and is today.

In our all too brief stay in Boston, we saw historic spots and locations, city parks, monuments, lovely rowhouses, government buildings like the state capitol, and modern skyscrapers. We also found the good people of Boston to be friendly, helpful, and hospitable.

Boston proved the perfect place to begin our trip into New England and on to eastern Canada.

While the Neighbors Were Away…

A fairy ring or circle in our neighbor’s backyard. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Each year, a fairy ring or circle appears in our next-door neighbor’s backyard. They often don’t get to see it since they go camping as often as they can.

After several rounds of heavy recent rains, this circle of False Parosal fungi popped up. In the morning, only a couple of fungi appeared. By late afternoon, the fairy circle was nearly complete.

The circles are also known as an elf circle, an elf ring, or a pixie ring. They are naturally occurring rings or arcs of non-edible mushrooms. Some cultures consider these mushroom circles a bad omen, while others think they bring good luck.

This particular ring has occurred nearly every summer in the eight years we have lived in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. Shortly after taking these photos, the circle disappeared, not by some fairy’s magic trick, but by a lawnmower.

Have you ever seen circles like these where you live?

A Man and His Dog

This scene stopped me in my tracks.

My wife and I enjoyed a walk around the Genesee Country Village and Museum on Mother’s Day with our son, his wife, and their three-year-old grandson. Jess’s family also joined us on the lovely Sunday.

With wide open spaces and many attractions to investigate, several of us scattered to do our own thing. That’s when I spotted this gentleman, dressed in 19th-century attire, basking in the late-morning sunshine. His obedient dog did the same. Along with the setting and their positioning, they made the perfect composition that fit the setting.

The Genesee Country Village and Museum is a living history museum near Mumford, New York.

Stations of the Cross: A Good Friday Tradition

For the last 38 years, churches in Harrisonburg, Virginia, have joined together on Good Friday at noon to walk the Stations of the Cross. This is an ecumenical service of public prayer and witness on Christianity’s most solemn day.

It was the perfect afternoon to walk in downtown Harrisonburg. With a bright blue sky overhead and the temperatures in the 70s, more than 150 people chose to walk the 10 stations.

I was most impressed by the cross-generational gathering. Toddlers in strollers, teenagers in shorts, parents, and grandparents walked narrow sidewalks and across city streets to the various stations representing the final hours of Jesus’s life.

Luke 22:39-46. Jesus prays on the Mount of Olives.

Retired pastor Phil Kniss gave safety instructions to the crowd before the service began on the steps of Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church. Members of the Shenandoah Valley Biblical Storytellers dramatically shared appropriate scriptures at each stop. A prayer by local clergy was recited before proceeding to the next station.

Luke 22:47-53. Jesus is betrayed and arrested.

We didn’t have to go far for the second stop. The U.S. Federal Courthouse was just steps away. Note the court official peering out of the window on the right.

The third stop was just a short distance away at the local television station. Besides places of worship, the walk included stops representing the media and local, state, and federal agencies.

Luke 22:63-71. Jesus is mocked and questioned.

The following two stops brought us to the First Presbyterian Church on Court Square. It is literally the city center. We bathed in the warm sunshine of the early afternoon, listening to the scripture presentation and the prayer.

Luke 23:1-5. Jesus stands before Pilate.

The procession moved across the street to the west side of the Rockingham County Courthouse. Doing so allowed the group to gather without blocking any doorways, as the only public entrance is located on the east side.

Luke 23:6-12. Jesus stands before Herod.

We moved from the courthouse to the jail and administrative building across the street. A few onlookers joined the troupe of walkers.

Luke 23:13-25. Jesus is sentenced to death.

From the jail, the group followed the cross to an open area near Blacks Run, a stream that meanders through the town’s center. While the scripture was shared and the prayer said, an American Goldfinch sang high from a nearby cottonwood tree, and a pair of Mallards swam upstream. The church steeple in the background was the next destination.

Luke 23:26-43. Jesus is nailed to the cross.

At the historic Asbury United Methodist Church, we heard the hard words of Jesus being nailed to the cross. The walk became more solemn than it had been when we had started a half hour earlier.

Following the prayer, the participants trekked along South Main St. to City Hall. Fortunately, the street is a one-way, northbound roadway, which allowed excellent visibility for oncoming traffic. The street is also U.S. 11, the old Valley Pike, where Confederate and Union soldiers marched and occasionally fought. The ancient history overshadowed that of the more recent.

The group crossed S. Main St. to the last stop, the lovely courtyard behind St. Stephen’s United Church of Christ.

The inviting backyard garden of St. Patrick’s United Church of Christ hosted the last scripture and prayer of the afternoon’s commemoration. By now, people were tired from the heat and the walk, which totaled a mile round trip. Still, all were attentive to the cherished story. With the final benediction, the people scattered quietly, individually, pondering all that we had seen and heard.