Mile Zero – Newfoundland
Dukes of Hazzard at 8:00, 8:30 Newfoundland. Canadian childhood included constant reminders that Newfoundland is special. Apart. So far gone that it gets its own time zone.
It really does feel like we’re perched tenuously on the edge of everything here. But not the end of the world, like at Finisterre which was clearly the exhausted, exhilarated, epiphanous End of the cross-Spain Camino. Here we feel the rawness of a New World, the freshness of the first sunrise, the promise of an entire continental welcome mat spreading out to the West, North and South.
Cape Spear - First Sunrise
North America’s day literally begins at Cape Spear, the Eastern-most point of the continent. When the sun rises at 5:36 tomorrow morning, it’ll be another two hours before it greets my brother in Toronto, and another 2.5 hours after that before it warms my cousin Sharon’s doorstep in Portland Oregon. I can’t call my mom before lunchtime - B.C. is like a sluggish teenager, 4.5 hours behind.
Think of winter solstice - the sun will rise in Vancouver at 8:15 am, then set in Newfoundland just 3.5 hours later. We’re closer to Iceland than we are to our son in Philadelphia.
Though we don’t quite make it in time for sunrise, we do bring visiting friends there for a hike, and join a local hiking group another day, for the first of many breath-taking coastal jaunts along the 336 km East Coast Trail. Cape Spear, like most of Newfoundland, has sharp dramatic cliffs appropriate for a world-edge.
Next Stop: Dublin
Being just 2,000 miles from the UK, Newfoundland has traditionally been a strategic flight hub. Alcock and Brown made the first non-stop transatlantic flight in June 1919 from St. John’s to Ireland. Amelia Earhart's first trans-atlantic flight by a woman started from took off from Harbour Grace (Coves have wonderful names here: Come By Chance, Petty, Wreck, Ladle, Bacon, Deadman's, Comfort, Cuckold, Shoe, Witless... Not to be outdone, some fun names for bays include Dildo, Granny's Hole, Witless, Virgin Arm, Blow Me Down, Heart's Content, and Heart's Desire).
On our initial 2-day drive from the ferry to St. John’s, we pass along more steep cliffs, vast swaths of inland forest, and of course we visit the once-again famous Gander. Once a refueling stop for all planes heading to or from Europe, the massive airport was all but closed once technology allowed for longer transatlantic flights without refuelling. But when all planes were grounded on Sept. 11, 2001, Gander opened her runways to 38 jumbo jets, and the people of this small community provided refuge, comfort, entertainment and stewed moose to 6,500 weary and scared travelers.
After the incredibly open, grounded Welcome! we have received from the people of Newfoundland, it’s no surprise that the good people of Gander so easily opened their doors and hearts. The air swims with the sense that we’re all just people, all in this together with and for each other - a balm for the soul in the midst of such strife in the US and elsewhere. If you haven’t seen the musical Come from Away, based on this unique episode in history, you must - for a taste of the uplifting energy we are drinking in deep here, for the inspired true story, and for the Newfoundland-inspired musical style.
Terry Fox Started Here. So Did My Viking Ancestors
The first Viking settlement in North America was discovered in the tip of the Northern Peninsula at L’Anse aux Meadows National Historic Site. We’re going to wait until we have grandchildren to bring to this UNESCO World Heritage Site (and the only authenticated Norse site in North America - apologies to Alexandria Minnesota which claims to have a Norse runestone). But I do have a dubious claim at being a local since my ancestor Leif Erikson led this first European colonization effort in North America (sorry, American friends, Columbus arrived 500 years later).
A bit more recently, the TransCanada Highway that stitches our vast country together starts here, ending in Victoria (sorry Tofino, not you officially) just a little past our farm. I have now driven all 7,476 km of this sometimes majestic, sometimes endless and mundane, national treasure, and cycled about a quarter of it (that’s a story for another day). Yes I’m proud of that achievement, but it sure pales in comparison to our true Canadian hero, Terry Fox.
We make the pilgrimage to the downtown harbour where Terry dipped his artificial leg into the ocean on April 12, 1980 then started running straight up a hill that almost finished me on my bike. His cancer-fundraising Marathon of Hope inspired and united us across the country - every evening we would watch coverage of this 18-year-old’s courageous double-hop on his good leg then one step on his artificial leg, telephone pole to telephone pole, 26 miles a day, hopefully all the way to BC. But 143 days later in Thunder Bay Ontario, after running 5,373 km and raising 26.17 million dollars for cancer research (more than his goal of $1 for every Canadian), the cancer returned and he was forced to stop.
I have a rapidly growing photo collection of me playfully imitating the statues of famous people and the occasional moose. But here, in the shadow of this 18-year-old who was my hero in Grade 8 and still is 45 years later, it feels wrong to draw an ounce of attention away from this humble fighter. I can only stand in teary respect.
Newfoundland, mile zero, is a land of so many firsts - sunrises, explorers, highways and dreams all burst forth from this edge-of-the-world island. But I’ll let Terry have the last word:
“Today we got up at 4:00 am. As usual, it was tough. If I died, I would die happy because I was doing what I wanted to do. How many people could say that? I went out and did fifteen push-ups in the road and took off. I want to set an example that will never be forgotten.” - Terry Fox
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Currently in...
Mayne Island, BC, then to a family wedding in Surrey
Heading to...
Paris, Albania, Milan, then Cambodia-Thailand-Vietnam for Oct-May. Please share any sites, people or ideas by email.
You two are so cute, silly ,light hearted. So refreshing, thank you and such beautiful pictures.
Your travel blog is amazing. As a Newfoundlander (I was born before Confederation) I am sometimes blown away by how outsiders see us and allow us to have fresh eyes for what has been there all along. Thanks to Sarah and Rick!
I’m always nervous to have locals read my take on their home. Glad you approve!