I had high hopes for getting some drone shots here, and to camp in the great sites at the edge of these cliffs. But the rain was just...In...Sane. With the camera covered in a rain-cover and wiping the lens after each shot, we were each a gallon of water heavier after just 10 minutes. Another great, lousy place to pitch tents in the rain. We skipped on to Corner Brook.
Almost immediately after getting off the ferry in Port Aux Basques, Newfoundland, we turned onto Tower Road, a service road leading to the top of a hill where a WWII radio tower used to be. I had seen photos from the top of this hill and the great view of the lake below and made a note "don't bother if its foggy". It was foggy. It was quite steep in parts, with a bit of low-level rock crawling over the occasional washed out section but mostly smooth sailing. Just machine rubber and stone, up and up and up. It was a fun climb. Leeann admitted later she completed part of it with her eyes closed singing happy songs to herself. We got about 3/4 of the way up and accepted the weather was not getting any better and there was absolutely no view ahead so we turned back, saving the suspension for future abuse.
Shortly after this mellow jaunt, we realized we were on an ATV trail and ROBOTWO earned a few new pin-stripes. Resale value: down. Overlander pride: up. This route ended up having the most dangerous moment of the trip as we past a small drainage gully which crossed the path, eating away a decent chunk of it and dropping 15 feet. This meant a tilted crossing with the tires right up to the edge of the ditch's hungry, black-hole-mouth. Getting out and planning the approach we noticed a crumpled heap of Detroit's past rusting right below us. Not a good sign! It was no problem heading across it one way, but after realizing we had no solid destination in mind (or perhaps my off-road hostages were finally successful negotiating their safe return), we turned back. About a foot before re-entering the danger zone, the front end slid a few inches towards "Rusted Landrover Creek". Once stable, I honked at Angus, spotting from ahead ahead, and motioned "Watch out!, Coming in hot!" and started forward, slowly but desperately building momentum. Well, we made it. Low torque, not hitting it too hard too fast, while smoothly increasing forward momentum, seemed to work. Then again it might have been luck. The dash-cam video of this trip (to be posted later) will not visually communicate the danger of the situation, but will feature an interesting range of "nearly shit my pants" jokes.
A fun camp spot on the very northern tip of Nova Scotia. Overlooking a gorgeous bay. Although we weren't expecting an adventure at the time, this place turned out to be our 2nd most extreme driving situation of the trip as the staff had us follow them to our cabin while they drove an ATV up a wet grass hill with a steep sideways slant. We all have our theories on how far the rig was leaning, 25° or 30°? not out of range for the LR3 but if we slipped, it surely would have been a 6 foot sideways slide to a 6 foot drop, and if the smaller path below us didn't stop the tumble, it would have continued another 150 feet down to "Rusted Landrover Cove." Lesson learned, in spontaneous conditions, follow enthusiastic guys on ATVs with pessimistic caution.
All set for adventure. Rachel flew home from Halifax and Dirk, Leeann & Angus miraculously managed to pack a week's worth of camping gear inside the already tight LR3. A puzzle masterfully solved, disassembled and reassembled in nearly the exact same order, 20 or so times over the next week.