climbing the tolt

even though i am tired when i head to bed i cannot sleep, am still playing over what i did that day and planning the next. it is not the panic type of planning that i have in the land of eternal war - mayor daley must be pissed off the terrorists passed over his city again. it is more anticipating the next day.

of course the full moon rising over the ocean and reflecting into the room doesn’t help but one has to make due.

to-day the sky was hazeless, the type of sky one gets after a rain but it hadn’t humpbacks have been mucking about in the cove – it seems like there were two of them as we could see the two spouts and the flip of the tail. everyone – especially the morning group were pointing them out to one another.

henry greeted me as i was heading over to bruce’s and he heading back. mentioned hat i was going to climb the tolt to-day. he said he’s done it – henry’s well into his pension but it doesn’t surprise me.

it was a perfect day to climb the tolt. the last time – last year it was a bit mauzy and thus the snaps a bit disappointing – it is the pouch cove page of the website. one of the august residents at the school said that she liked to hike so asked if she wanted to go along. – reckoned that if i twisted my ankle or fell off someone could go for help. we’d make the ascent at 3pm.

this gave me plenty of time to head over to portugal cove again to photograph around the harbour.

again the difference between the rock and the rest of north america – especially the states – once again became apparent. here there is this basic trust below the 49th there is an all encompassing suspicion.

to vary the route i went to the new horrible tracts of homes that are going up in torbay. down route 20 – stopped outside flatrock to photograph this cleared area of land with a clothes line with clothes on it, stopped again to photograph a pond.

turned up indian meal line and passing all this tract housing. slow going as people again were gawking and although the housing was a bit better when i hit the portugal cove/st. philips border – the houses were older, the traffic wasn’t any better.

at the harbour pulled up to the dock and parked the car. no one came out with dogs and a stun gun. proceeded to photograph the fishing boats, the rapid rescue boat which is a good five storeys off the ground – supposedly due to the rough seas on conception bay – no r.n.c. came sniffing about.

climbed out on the piers – vowing not to photograph lobster pots – to have this chaotic mixture of the harbour, the fishing implements, the flags and the houses of portugal cove. at this point two men gave me the nod and mentioned the weather – fate sealed photograph of them made.

climbed the rocks to make more snaps a perfect non event for everyone concerned.

yeah i know this is newfoundland the end of the world and there are two answers to this. across the tickle there are the only artillery in north america that were fired in defence of the continent. it was also in this very bell island tickle that german u-boats sank ore ships and torpedoed scotia pier supposed felt all over the island.

point two if it is so far away , why do ridge’s homeland security boys want to close the harbour in st. john’s to passers-by. luckily the government so far has used newfoundland english for intercourse yourself.

i think about this all the time when driving out of st.john’s there is the water supply. heading between bauline and pouch cove there is a pond with a sign saying that it is bauline’s emergency water supply. no one from the rcmp came speeding up when i was wandering the airstrip in wabana. and it is nice to actually go up to the gang plank and greet the tourists or the workers coming off the ships or in the evening if the bubble isn’t ripe sit in the harbour and stare out the irving oil sign on the south shore. of course the states are pushing canada to close its ports to passers by but so far up here the world is more sane, more trusting.

made a couple of snaps of closed conveniences in portugal cove.

came back to pouch for lunch when eva dropped by for the walk. it took some time to get her to leave as people keep staring out at the sea dumbfounded. walked by russell’s place where the maple leaf was flying. seeing him i said that he had better taste than his brother who flew the stars and stripes all of a sudden, his wife came out to say hello and agreed with me.

a story ensued on when russell hung the union jack upside down back when this was back to being a colony.

last time russell told me to take meetinghouse road up which took a good 90 minutes, this time i went up the way i came down shortening the walk by a good hour.

or it would have if the blueberries weren’t out. at lower levels, there were buds but everything was green. i give it ten days. but higher there were some ripe ones then more and more.

spoiled thought it was worth it to pick them now when one had to go searching for them but eva thrilled combed the hill side to find them. in a fortnight one wouldn’t be able to walk without crushing them so it is hardly worth the effort to go searching like this now.

well until i saw my first ripe blue one. then dinner was served. brought an apple just in case i hit a wall heading up wasn’t needed as we ate our way to the top and back down again. the reason for the trip up was to see what i didn’t know last time. before it was the challenge from below it looks quite high and i had a hard time believing that i climbed it. this time i wanted to see what i could see from the top.

all of pouch cove of course but coast to coast – the atlantic to conception bay. the ocean down to flatrock and the endless pines to the southwest. and the whales that were still out and about in the cove.

at the summit there was a notebook and pens in a zip locked baggy under a rock. it seems that kristen, a student at the school, was asking people who climb the tolt to make an entry in the book for her class project. there were four entries – now six.
spend a bit of time up there looking about and becoming a bit crooked. it seems that eva like the group at the school have no clue as to what is about them they haven’t been as far a bauline. know nothing of conception bay. they come with no and go nowhere. i became a tour guide and would at least show bauline and portugal cove. she kept saying how rugged the cliffs where here – where just looking over conception bay would prove her wrong.

descending was slower than ascending. found more blueberries to snack on and taking a different route we ended up in someone’s back garden off marsh road asked permission of the woman painting her nails on the rear deck steps – and made her photograph. supposedly people wander off marsh road and are never found again.

heading back to sullivan’s loop meet all the new artists in town as jason it taking his friends to bruce’s for something to drink but have stopped due to the whales. while we are chatting two québecois drive up – the new pipe house residents friends of eva.
having trouble getting into the pipe house sharon and reg also come over. the odd thing though is the area by the town hall which is usually teaming with people is empty. even bruce’s car park has no cars. pulling ourselves from the whales for a bit head back to sullivan’s loop when they appear even closer in than before.

get martin’s monocular to have a look and while eva is looking a horrible thing happens.

this bloke with his son stops to say hello. he introduces himself and his son who has some sort of new age name the male equivalant of tiffany. it so happens that he is the castrated out of wedlock self fornicator who bought henry langmead’s place last year. don’t like him pronounced pouch cove poach cove. he loves it there i should stop by – yeah real soon can i have you phone number i have to report a terrorist.

drove over to bauline now ranting about how prices are being driven up around here.
every house passed that was for sale i spout out the price. so riled brought up the one in bauline that overlooked the ocean that went for $5000 in 1999. now there was a volvo – not a tj volvo but a new volvo –sitting in the driveway. beside that another house with a car with florida number plates – bloody sunbirds.

never the less still like bauline, the harbour, how it is nestled between two mountains. it is small cannot even support a convenience feels nice an isolated but is closer to st. johns than poach er pouch. wandered about a bit then headed yet again to portugal cove to show what is happening to housing on the avalon. this time pulled up to the ferry landing and parked left everything open – unlike the woman who went elaine’s convenience up the road and i guess thinking it cool beeped her car locked – except that the back windows were open. walked showed eva real cliffs across the tickle. people were hanging out awaiting to board the ferry. others were just in with their catch.

a woman said the fatal – lovely day but before i could get the camera to my eye she was gone.

an asian family was fishing from one of the piers i couldn’t tell if they were fishing or crabbing or both. the two men had what looked like white plastic laundry bags with ribbon attached to what seemed to be a rock they would put the bags in the water but wouldn’t leave them long. they were constantly pulling them from the sea to have a look. didn’t understand this as the water was so clear that you could see that the trap was empty without lifting it

for a harbour the water was remarkably clean could see the bottom. bauline was the same i could see where the fishermen had dumped all the heads and spines of the fish they had gutted on the pier.

returning to pouch i had calmed quite a bit. made sure that i didn’t pass that son of a 1000 fathers place at the top of the hill.

i am running over my allotted film daily quota. 25 for the past two day. i reckoned 8 rolls a day. this could be a problem. in pouch after my organic president’s choice dinner realised that i will have trouble sleeping again that reflection off the sea from the moon is driving me crazy.

have to get up early to-morrow to see if the regatta is on. there was a chance of wind and rain. got to love a province where a holiday will be determined by wind. all of st. john’s will be glued to radio one to-morrow at 6am.