Iron Skull Mountain Trail, Belleoram

FeaturedIron Skull Mountain Trail, Belleoram

“I see a picture of Iron Skull, and it brings a tear to my eye,
For I know, she stands guard o’er the birthplace of this Newfie boy”.

Johnny Drake/The Dorymen

 

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Iron Skull Mountain is the highest mountain in Fortune Bay and is 1129 feet/344 meters high. I would rate this trail as difficult and recommend the use of a hiking stick.  Allow 4 to 5 hours (return) for the hike.

I also suggest that when you start the final rocky climb up,  you leave some sort of marker to the wooded trail area. When we started down, we had a little difficulty connecting with the trail again.  My husband climbed down through the trees walked across the mountain until he connected with the trail and then let us know his whereabouts. It was easy to see the marsh that we had walked over far below, but hard to distinguish the actual trail.

 

But before we begin…… a little tour of Belleoram which is on the south coast of Newfoundland in Fortune Bay.

 

While Belleoram is no longer the bustling center it once was, it is still a community with a million dollar view.  It has a population of approximately 400 and I saw four (there may be more), convenience stores!

The mountains and hills surrounding Belleoram, together with the vibrant blue of the ocean, provide a breathtaking scene that is spellbinding.

 

…….and away we go.

The trail into the actual beginning of the trek up takes approximately 40 mins. and is overgrown but not without interest.

 

Movement is a medicine for creating change in a person’s physical, emotional, and mental states.    Carol Welch

 

 

We begin the climb. My sister told me about this hike and we, along with my husband, left early in the morning.  There have been many bear sightings in this area recently. Fortunately we didn’t see one, but saw tracks and other signs.

 

 

 

Headin’ Home

John Drake….The Dorymen

Many years have gone by since I left my Fortune Bay home,
Full of dreams and ambitions, as a young man I wanted to roam;
But now things are different, I’m older and wiser, I guess,
And I’d love to return to that homeland that I love the best.

My friends and relations, I miss them more every day,
And in dreams I go back to my childhood down in old Fortune Bay;
I see a picture of Iron Skull, and it brings a tear to my eye,
For I know, she stands guard o’er the birthplace of this Newfie boy.

And I leave Bishops Falls, head down that Bay D’Espoir Road,
There’s a lump in my throat, son, ’cause I know that I’m headin’ home;
And when I reach St Jacques, I know everything is alright,
I got two miles to go and I’ll be in Belleoram tonight.

That old Fishermen’s Lodge is now a modern day home,
The roads, they are paved, and them old fishing schooners are gone;
That old church looks the same as it did when I sang in the choir,
The Orange Lodge gave its music to the lounge on the government wharf.

The dories made way for the faster and modern speed boat,
As you walk around town, you’ll not see a sheep, cow, or goat;
The steamers don’t call here, they are a thing of the past,
Now, it’s phoned-home visits, my, things are changing so fast.

My memories may fail me, but I feel like a king when I say,
I’m a proud Newfoundlander from Belleoram, down in old Fortune Bay.

And I leave Bishops Falls, head down that Bay D’Espoir Road,
There’s a lump in my throat, son, ’cause I know that I’m headin’ home;
And when I reach St Jacques, I know everything is alright,
I got two miles to go and I’ll be in Belleoram tonight.
Just two miles to go and I’ll be in Belleoram tonight.

####…. John Henry Drake [1936-2006] of Belleoram, NL (Headin’ Home, SWC Productions) ….####

Johnny Drake, along with Thomas G (Tom) Rose [1940-?] of Bay Du Nord, NL, co-founded The Dorymen in 1969.

 

 

He has reached home.

 

 

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“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.”    Edward Abbey

 

Another great adventure with my husband and sister!

 

Photos by L. Fudge

A Traditional Tale

A Traditional Tale

A boil up on the rocks has long been a family tradition. I went often with my parents and siblings, my husband & daughters, friends & extended family and in recent  years with my grandchildren. Early this week, a calm ocean, a sunny sky and freshly harvested turnip greens were ideal conditions for a ‘boil up on the rocks.’……..and we headed out.

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Wish my grandchildren were here so we could play pirates.

It seems that this little island located not far from Canoe Rock and Knight Island has no name on Google Earth, but apparently our uncle used to call it Fish Island. I have renamed it Starfish Island:) because on two separate occasions, with different grandchildren, we have found large starfish here………and also because I like the name better.:)

The island is relatively small but holds delightful treasures.

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Beach Pea

 

A field of beach peas

Catching blackberries:)

Catching blackberries.

Seaside Plantain

Seaside Plantain

 

Three-toothed cinquefoil

(leaf) Edges are smooth except for three terminal teeth”   Todd Boland, Wildflowers and Ferns of Newfoundland.  These are easily seen in this picture.

Harebells/Bluebells

“No attempt to simplify nature is foolproof-nature is far too complex to fit into a tidy series of icons and colours’   Todd Boland

 

 

A gift from a friend many years ago, my picnic backpack came filled with dishes, cutlery, blanket and tablecloth and a recent gift from my sister, my traveling teakettle, is a most welcome addition to our boil up.

The grill was a gift from our daughter and a  welcome addition to our outdoor life. I first saw this type of grill at a Forage, Fire & Feast outing with  Lori McCarthy last year. If you are looking for a feast on the beach, learning about edible plants and other culinary adventures, check our her website, Cod Sounds.

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Newfoundland Jigg’s Dinner with…………..

………..ambiance like no other.

“The most beautiful gift of nature is that it gives one pleasure to look around and try to comprehend what we see.”   Albert Einstein

 

photos by C. & L. Fudge

 

 

 

 

 

From Woodpiles to Stages….

From Woodpiles to Stages….

……a December to March pictorial trek.


Pine Siskins

American Gold Finch
American Gold Finch

“When I am bored, remind me:
This is the excitement of life-
darkness alternating with light,
down dancing with up,
and inactivity being absolutely essential
-as prelude-
to the most fulfilling experiences of all.”
Gratitude

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“Our life is frittered away by detail….Simplify, simplify.”
…….Henry David Thoreau

Woodpile by SH

I find this stacking and piling of wood settling and pleasing. Notice how the pieces are fitted and arranged and ….free standing with the ends being arranged to support the arrangement. Art and detail.

Textiles in the Cove

To have eyes without imagination must be a sad state of affairs.
…C. Fudge……although I may have been influenced by Anne of Green Gables 🙂

A different perspective

Whites’ Wharf…a different perspective.

A different perspective

Icicles and Stage

Grandpa's Stage

Granpa’s Stage in Winter

December 2017-March 2018 (93)

No connors today.

Serenity

Serenity

Dogberries

Dogberries

Icicles

View from my window.

Simplicity

“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”
….Theodore Roosevelt

Winter Wonderland

Winter Wonderland

Bountiful

Bountiful

Snow capped DogberriesSmurf HatsDecember 2017-March 2018 (142)

Robins’ Feast

Where are the gnomes?

Where are the gnomes?

December

Love this guy..and what a deal..paid $10.00 for him.

Tranquil

Across the road

Across the Road.

Welcome Home

Welcome Home.

“Your true home is in the here and now, it is the door to each single moment.”
……….Thich Nhat Hank

We have only had a few days of snowfall this winter and then a few days later it is mostly melted. It sure is pretty and pristine when it does fall. Happy winter and hopefully spring will soon be here!

Photos L. Fudge

A truly happy person is one who can……..

FeaturedA truly happy person is one who can……..

…..enjoy the scenery while on a detour. (Anonymous)

We spent some time in Eastport in October 2017 and enjoyed many delicious meals, shows and activities. Finding ourselves with some time to spare between activities, we decided to hike the Sandy Cove Look-Out trail. It was an overcast dreary day and the hike was uphill but not very long.

The trail winds through trees and is fairly nondescript, but I always like to finish a trail once I have started, so we kept going.

We have to take personal responsibility for uplifting our lives. The Sacred Path of the Warrior Chogyam Trungpa

The trail was wet, dark and grey.

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At the top, the Canadian flag flies precariously in the wind.

In summer, beautiful Sandy Cove beach is a favourite of mine.

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My husband saw this beautiful Caribou Moss and took photos.


It was the bright spot of the hike and I am so glad we took the detour.

“But,in my simple ignorance, suppose
That self-same Power that brought me there
brought you.”
The Rhodora Ralph Waldo Emerson

photos L & C Fudge

An early morning tale………

An early morning tale………

followed by a 5 km trek.

An early morning rise, with the warm, velvet liquid of my tea going slowly and longingly down my throat. My eyes are closed to savour each welcome mouthful.
I open my eyes and see my scraggly spruce having, what appears to be, a venomous, aggressive debate. There is much pointing of fingers and threatening swaying back and forth, perhaps they are severely disgruntled with their unkempt appearance. This continued for most of the day. I trusted that they would end it peacefully.

Today they seem to be more settled and are standing tall and rooted. They seem to know their importance. I like that about trees, they have a strong sense of self.

Gerald Squires wrote the following about trees.

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by Gerald Squires

His paintings bring our barren, rustic landscape …….to, to….just what they are…it’s as if you are seeing the real thing. His notes and writings which are found in Gerald Squires by Stan Dragland, were to me an unexpected find. This is a book that really should be bought and read.

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It was an eerie morning in the Cove…….

It was an eerie morning in the Cove…….

……and the spiders were somewhat disgruntled with me for always brushing their webs from my clothesline. I awoke to find that they had been busy overnight hanging their own line.

Fog

by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Web in Red

Web in Red

The Spider and The Fly

by Mary Howitt (1799-1888)

“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly;
“’Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the spider to the fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.”

Said the cunning spider to the fly, “Dear friend, what shall I do,
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “kind sir, that cannot be;
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.”

“Sweet creature!” said the spider, “You’re witty and you’re wise!
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning now, I’ll call another day.”

The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing
“Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing:
Your robes are green and purple; there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.”

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,
Hearing his wily flattering words, came slowly flitting by.
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;
Thinking only of her crested head — poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor; but she ne’er came out again!

And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed;
Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.

Web

I had never read this in its entirety before. A gem of a fable!

Dogberries, birdhouses and gnomes enjoying the soft fog and mist.

Any treats?

Any treats?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

L. Fudge photos

A Sunday Trek along Bight Road

A Sunday Trek along Bight Road

Walking gives freedom. When you walk you can determine your own tempo. You can choose your own course. You can think whatever you want. Nina Kuscik

A beautiful fall day along the Wild Bight Road.

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The times they are a’changin.
While I don’t see Bob Dylan in this setting, his words ring true.

Peaceful and serene.

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The little red tractor….sure miss stopping and talking to Gerald Head.

Dogberries are so plentiful this year….and so beautiful as they add their splash of colour to the landscape.

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Thankfully there is no change here, the colours are vibrant.

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A lazy Sunday in the fields.

October’s Party by George Cooper

October gave a party
The leaves by hundreds came-
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.

The Chestnuts came in yellow,
The Oaks in crimson dressed;
The lovely Misses Maple
In scarlet looked their best;
All balanced to their partners,
And gaily fluttered by;
The sight was like a rainbow
New fallen from the sky.

Then, in the rustic hollow,
At hide-and-seek they played,
The party closed at sundown,
And everybody stayed.
Professor Wind played louder;
They flew along the ground;
And then the party ended
In jolly “hands around.”

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October dressing for her pool party.

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Bight Road

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds,thy wide grey skies!
The mists that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
All all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot hold thee close enough!

Edna St. Vincent Millay