The following morning in Biscayan Cove we woke to incredible views of waves smashing against the jagged shoreline the warm morning rays of sun competing with the crisp Atlantic wind. After some quick research we learned of a small hiking loop called the Cripple Cove loop, one of trailheads of which was located just a few meters down the road from where we had parked the night before. We pulled on our boots and dawned a few extra layers to protect us from the blasting wind and headed out. The Cripple Cove loop provided beautiful views of the ocean, a small of stand of dead trees stripped of their bark by the constant wind making for an eerie graveyard-like feel and fascinating changes in geography and plant life.
The trail exit that we chose put us out on the road a couple kilometers from our vehicle, as we walked along the road an old man in a pick-up came along and motioned for us to hop in the back as he slowed beside us, we hopped in then bumped along in the box the rest of the way. When he came to a stop near our van we hopped out and waited to thank him. A short conversation later we had learned that he was with the East Coast Trail doing trail markings and had been born on Fogo Island and he had suggested a number of different places to keep in mind as we travelled. He was a cheery old man who was fiercly proud of his province and had an obvious love for the outdoors.
From Biscayan Cove we headed south in the direction of Chance Cove. On our way down we happened upon Ferryland, not blindly I might add. I (Alex) had been told about Ferryland by a local I met on the plane ride in, I was told it was a nice place that had a lighthouse and some pretty views. Arriving around 4:00pm, and having no cloud cover, the light was prime, something photographers call ‘golden hour’. Ferryland quickly became Fairyland; with a land bridge leading to a small island and a large red lighthouse and the beautiful golden light illuminating the whole area we soon found ourselves running around, myself getting shots and Alison training (who got more exercise is yet to be determined). The scenery was magnificent and the experience unforgettable. According to Alison Ferryland made for her best day yet.
By the time we were in the vicinity of Chance Cove we had been driving in pitch black for almost an hour. When the sun dips below the horizon in Newfoundland the terrain is plunged into darkness, with so much land between towns there’s no glow in the sky from distant lights and there are no lights lining the highways, it is very dark and the result is a bad case of tunnel-vision while driving. When we arrived at Chance Cove Provincial Park, to our disappointment it was closed (a seemingly ongoing trend for this entire trip thus far). Our options were pretty slim at that point: camp on the side of the road, find a road leading off the highway or make for the next town. I don’t really care for the idea of sleeping beside a highway and there are basically no roads leading off the highway, even if there were we likely wouldn’t see them, so we pressed on till the next town and wound up in South Portugal Cove. Following a road to the outskirts of the town we parked in a small outcropping and stayed the night.