Monday, August 1

I packed up camp at sun-up and we drove to the trailhead to get the earliest possible start. This was intended to maximize birding luck and also the chances of winning a t-shirt. I was the first car in the lot, allowing me to let Delta off leash for most of the hike to the summit. The ascent up the eastern trail was relatively straight-forward and we were greeted by many Magnolia Warbler and White-crowned Sparrow. Since I was preoccupied with birding, we were only overtaken by the ranger who was to hand out t-shirt tickets at the summit, a couple, and then a father-son combo.

Toward the summit, the broadleaf forest of maples and oaks gave way to increasingly shorter conifers. And finally, one of those pines contained a Boreal Chickadee. Soon, the pines gave way to boulders and low bushes. And then, just boulders at the summer where an inquisitive Junco hopped about. We made a brief stop to document Delta’s summiting of the highest point in Maritime Canada, and then headed back via the western trail. This was infinitely more difficult a descent, as we were on an exposed ridge, largely hopping from boulder to boulder for 2 miles. At several places, I needed to carry Delta to a lower point and quickly became aware that I was getting sunburn.

Reaching tree cover, we were again treated to an outstanding view of a Boreal Chickadee. In addition, it was impossible to miss the metallic red of a male Pine Grosbeak. Previously, I had only seen a brief glimpse of a female while hiking in Colorado. Soon after, a mixed flock of Warblers were actively flitting through the trees. This offered an amazing view of a pair of Blue-throated Black Warblers, surely the best sighting I have had since to Porcupine Mountains in Michigan.

Although I was only able to add one life-lister on the day (I was also hoping for Canada Warbler and Crossbill), high quality shots of a Boreal Chickadee and a Blue-Warbler were well worth the work. And, I got a t-shirt.

After completing the descent and picking up my t-shirt, we started the drive back to New York. Thoughts of stopping for another day of birding in Northern Maine were scupperred by a severe thunderstorm. We made it as far as Augusta that night. The next morning, we strolled through downtown, a quintessential example of a formerly prosperous New England manufacturing town blighted by steadily decline manufacturing in the United States. Like many such cities, the architectural ambition of an earlier time belies the sad reality of obsolescence. 

Sunday, July 31

In the morning, we drove east along the coast to Bathurst, leaving Acadia and entering the port towns settled by Scottish and Irish immigrants. A restaurant with a patio on the dock was willing to let me bring Delta around and I enjoyed eggs Benedict—with lobster. Although I paid for two nights of camping in Caraquet, I decided that instead of heading back, we should continue the loop around New Brunswick. Eventually, this brings you to the St. Lawrence River, which separates the Gaspe Peninsula of Quebec from New Brunswick.

I should note here that I often lament my 9 years studying French in school, which has become a huge source of frustration and regret, becoming ever more apparent every time I travel in Latin America. Worse yet, I’ve discovered I cannot for the life of me understand the French that they speak in Quebec/Canada. The accent is so terribly nasally that every sound just sort of runs together. Also, they have a totally different lexicon. I swear one waitress used the word “beverage” in lieu of “boisson.” Also, it just sounds incredibly unpleasant.

Along the way, we were delayed in Charlo by what I think was a New Brunswick Day parade. This seemed a good opportunity to take Delta for a walk and watch the accoutrements of small town North America (floats with local bands, fire trucks, convertibles with open tops and waving beauty queens still emergin from their awkward phase).

Cutting south at Cambellton, we made our way toward Mt. Carleton Provincial Park. This was going to be the last stop on our trip. It was also the last realistic shot at finding a Boreal Chickadee. At the ranger station, we were told that with tomorrow being New Brunswick Day, the first 50 people up Mt. Carleton, the highest point in New Brunswick (and the entire Maritimes) would receive a t-shirt. Of course, this settled our plans for the following day, because men are innately programmed to do anything if winning a t-shirt is involved. We again lucked-out with a water-side camping spot.