Clyde’s yard

August 19th, 2008 by scott and becky

70 km, 5h 50 min

Today our progress was painfully slow. It was a beautifully sunny day; however, the headwinds slowed us dramatically.

We planned to have lunch in Centreville – our midway point for the day. We didn’t arrive there until 3:30 pm, at which point we were tired and starving. The place we stopped for lunch had a motel so we considered stopping for the day and resting up for tomorrow; however, upon inquiry the motel was sold out, so we headed further on down the road.

We arrived in Hare Bay (pronounces “air” as the local dialect doesn’t pronounce the h) at about 6:45 pm. At this point we realized that we could not make it to Gambo before dark. We were both tired and with an average speed that was just over 11 km / hr we simply did not have enough time to get there.

There are no places to stay in Hare Bay, so we were looking for a place to camp. We asked at the gas station and someone offered to take us back to a nice place to camp, but that would take us back the way we came. Every kilometer was hard fought, so we didn’t want to have to repeat it again. Had the offer been in the other direction, we definitely would have taken it.

We decided to try out the idea of knocking on a door and asking if we could camp in someone’s yard. Rather than knock though, we decided to ask people that were already outside. The first people we asked were an older couple who didn’t feel comfortable with us staying. In the end, that was probably good because their yard was rather open to the highway. Powered By SmugWP We asked another couple, who turned out to be visiting, but had a house further up the street. This is how we met Clyde and Linda. They allowed us to put our tent on a small flat patch on their front lawn. It was nicely protected by a bush, which provided us with a little bit of privacy.

Linda works at the hospital in St. John’s and was in Hare Cove on vacation visiting Clyde. Clyde used to be a fisherman and is now a guide, taking tourists fishing and hunting in the woods of Newfoundland. Truly delightful people, whom we’d never have met otherwise.

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