The Galapagos of Geology

Gros Morne park is incredibly important to our collective understanding of how the earth became the way it is now, physically. It is to geology what the Galapagos is to biology and I'm not the one who first said that.

It is the site where new discoveries, primarily by two young men, Robert Stevens and Harold Williams, changed scientific reasoning, (not without pushback of course) based on fossils and stone formations found rarely anywhere else, and here there are several phenomena all in one place. Plate tectonics, it turns out, rules.

First, you have the Tablelands, which looks like you are suddenly on Mars. In fact NASA scientists have come here to study the rocks and their emissions, as they seem to contain the same complex metal components as those on Mars. 

The iron content makes it seem red in colour, but there are other minerals, and it is so nutrient-poor that few plants and creatures can survive in it, although there are tiny alpine plants with 4 foot taproots to reach water, and others that trap insects, all of which have travelled here via errant seeds. Even the gravel brought in for the trail contained seeds that have somehow taken hold and evolved into a new form of what they normally would be. The water that runs through the Tablelands is clear and dense.

But the really big deal is that the Tablelands is actually a piece of the Earth's mantle, here on top of the crust. It formed about 500 million years old when continents collided to form one super-continent, Pangea. It's top would have been the bottom of what is now Africa. It's very existence proves plate tectonics are real. 

Another part of the park is a wonderful steep trail called Green Gardens, which highlights volcanic activity. Volcanic rock, as opposed to the Tablelands' peridotite is very nutrient-rich, and these amazing grassy meadows swoop down to cliffs high about the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 

hiking down to the sea in the distance

at the sea, long meadows

hiking back up - note the stones to allow runoff
to cross the path without impacting the path,
found on almost every trail  

I can see our car from here!
Talk about a contrast between the start and end

These two geological wonders are only about 10 minutes apart!

But wait, there's more.

Green Point is a fairly small cliff-face, the top of which is grass and the bottom of which is the beach. Walking down to and along the beach you can see the most incredible series of rock layers on their ends, full of fossils. These were the bottom of the ocean 500 million years ago, then thrust up and squeezed vertically. The fossils are right at the boundary of Cambrian and Ordovician (I had to look that last one up!). 

It is eroding, and even while we were there bits of rocks tumbled down from the top. Mind you, it was also so windy that day that it was hard to stand upright, so little rocks would have found an ally to dislodgement. 

In other parts of Newfoundland these thin layers are easily crushed for gravel and other uses, so it's wonderful there is some here in the park that can be preserved.

I took a bazillion photos - here are a few (forgive me if I nerd out a bit here):

trying to smile in the high velocity winds

And then there is Western Brook Pond, which is an inland, fresh water fjord. It was formed by a glacier, and would have ended at the ocean's edge, but as the glacier melted after the last ice age (about 10,000 years ago), the weight of the ice pressing down would have diminished, the land raised up and so the fjord is now about 3 kilometres away from the sea.  

You can walk to the fjord and board a boat that takes you right to the end of the fjord, The steep sides still had snow, but also waterfalls and crevasses. The sides are so straight and so deep, the boat could get within a few feet of the cliffs.

All these mountains, called the Long Range Mountains, form the top end of the Appalachian chain. 

the end of the fjord, and a very lonely picnic table 

   

we got this close!

There can't be many if any places on earth where so much unique and important geology is in such a small space and so accessible to tourists like us.

A Hiking We Will Go

3 full days in Gros Morne National Park, and this is where we will really get our hiking itch scratched!

First up, Gros Morne Mountain itself. It is a French name, which means "large mountain standing alone" or (my preferred version) "great somber". There are a lot of French names on the west coast of Newfoundland, as this is was all French territory for many years. Then the English came in and changed or anglicized the names. The English version as it stands now sounds the 's' in Gros. 

It's the jewel hike in the park. Unfortunately, the second half - the hardest half - is currently closed. Not only is there a lot of snow on the steepest part of the actual trail, but the top is still playing nursery to breeding ptarmigan, hare and caribou. It's not until the end of June that all snow is gone and the babies are well on their way.

this is where the top trail starts
- you can see the snow going right up the crevasse,
right where the trail is

But the approachment trail is good, and not even muddy. It's a steady upward slope for almost 2 hours, then it levels out a bit. Harder on the knees coming down, but the views are spectacular. There are waterfalls and steep slopes and tiny flowers and singing frogs galore. At the top there is a lovely river and meadow, where one can catch breath before going down.

Another day it was Baker's Brook Falls. About the same length - 4 hours in total, but much, much simpler as 3/4 of it is pretty flat, and most of that is on a boardwalk through the forest and bog.

There is a fenced in area that I thought was sign-posted "moose enclosure", which seemed rational to my tourist brain. But then we realized it was "moose exclosure". 

Generally this harsh environment is changed by wind and insects. Insects take over, plants are eaten, insect eat themselves out of food, wind blows new seeds around, new plants take over, and the cycle starts again.

But since moose were introduced to Newfoundland at the beginning of the 20th century (to help supply poor inhabitants with meat), they have completely changed the cycle, as introduced species often do. Moose cause such damage by eating the plants and trees as high up as they can reach, and are so voracious that new plants struggle to grow back.

So this moose exclosure was set up about 10 years ago to illustrate what the land would be like without moose impact. The effect is startling.

in the exclosure

visible moose damage

The last kilometre of the hike is a bit muddy and gnarly with tree roots, but the payoff is a magnificent waterfall, and the opportunity to walk that beautiful path back again at dusk, with birds chirping and wildflowers starting to bloom.

Then to watch the sunset from our cabin high on the point. 

  

Place Names

Newfoundland is full of lyrical place names which set the imagination running. Their source seems to be either old English and Irish seafaring terms, or anglicizations of French and Portuguese names, or just random whatever was in the head of the first or most recent European settler.

Bread and Cheese Cove

Dildo

Come By Chance

Blow Me Down

East Tickle
Joe Batt’s Arm

West Tickle
Tickle Cove

Conception Bay

Cupids

Fogo

Seldom

Placentia

Witless Bay

Cow Head

Quidi Vidi

And this is just the appetizer-sized portion!

This Post is Brought to You by the Letter "M"

 Just outside of Deer Lake on our way west, we saw a figure by the side of the highway, standing still, looking quite majestic.

"Moose!" One of us called. "Moose!" the other one said almost immediately.

We were on Highway 1, travelling at 100 km/hr, in a single land with traffic in front and behind.

That is why there is no photo.

After arriving in Rocky Harbour, in Gros Morne National Park, we went to visit the Lobster Head lighthouse and hike the little trails around.

It was a warm still evening, the sun breaking through clouds on the vast expanse of the Gulf of St. Lawrence with an almost ecclesiastical mysticism. 

We both saw it, a 6 metre black curve in the ocean with a tidy dorsal fin. 

"Minke whale!" "Minke!"

The whale rose out of the water and reentered it in one short fluid arc, a short moment of eloquence. 

So that is why there is no photo of that.

Sometimes, having photograph evidence is not nearly so important as having experienced something with the naked eye and the excitement of having seen something unexpected and beautiful, just for us. 

From 0 to 16 in three hours

Within an hour we went from this:

 To this:

When we left Fogo Island, there was a frost on the car, and it was just above zero, with 40+ km winds. When we arrived at Springdale, it was 16 degrees and still.

Suddenly we went from February to April, in 3 hours.

Springdale, a small town just left of Newfoundland's centre, if known at all, is known for having the largest sandbank in North America, according to our gas station attendant. Or at least it was the largest until local industry started picking away at it.  

photo courtesy Chamber of Commerce, as I am not that tall

We chose it because it seemed a good location to spend a night to break up our journey west, and there weren't that many options. In the end, we found Springdale has more than enough other charms. We stayed at the seemingly so new it's not quite finished Riverwood Inn, and discovered a lovely 5km trail along the Indian River, past wetlands and a bird sanctuary.

We had a beer on our deck and watched the light change over the river, and then happened to see something on the lawn.

Is it an otter? A groundhog? And then it turned and we saw its flat tail - it's a beaver!

Then, out of the river, it's another one!

then another - 

And another - 

There - in the water - 

Number 5 came up on the other lawn

Five beaver! All munching on the newly planted and probably very expensive turf.

We must have watched them for an hour. They ate, swam, played, ate more and then finally set off, swimming slowly up river as the light changed and we came indoors, forever changed. Thank you Springdale. 

The Inn of Fogo Island

When you think of Newfoundland, your thoughts might turn to cod fishing, The Shipping News, pubs, rocky landscapes, and curling - not $3,000 a night hotels. 

However in Newfoundland, there exists a very famous hotel, or at least one that has very good marketing, on an island off the Island. The Fogo Island Inn is that hotel and we did contemplate staying. 

It is on many bucket lists for its notoriety, architecture and model for social innovation on the island of Fogo. We have read so many articles that praised its vision and highlighted its famous clientele, who are picked up at Gander airport and shuttled to the Inn if they don't want to drive themselves. 

But.... we just couldn’t do it. $3,000 a night! - with a 3 night minimum!!! - and it's not even high season!!!!! This seems the world of celebrities, oligarchs and hockey players. The one percent of the one percent. 

Our conscience lead us to other accommodation, but we harboured hope we could eat in the famed restaurant. We enquired, but were politely informed that due to COVID-19 the restaurant is now closed to anyone not staying at the Inn. This seems to have become a permanent thing.

On one of our hikes we could see the Inn across the way, looking like a curious insect, standing on tall legs above the rocks, grey on grey. 

Intrigued we took another little hike at the other end of the town of Joe Batt's Arm to have a closer look.

The Inn's design pays homage to the tilts of Newfoundland. 

faux-go

Fogo Inn

Quite spectacular and yet, quite ordinary really, except for the metals stilts and the location. The views must be quite wonderful over the crashing rocks.

We decided that the Inn would be a perfect inspiration for a 21^st century Agatha Christie mystery in the vein of "At Bertram’s Hotel" or "Evil Under The Sun". All the ingredients are there: an isolated location; lots of rich, notorious visitors; a high-profile owner who came from Fogo Island and made it big; below-stairs intrigue; and a community full of mixed feelings, supporters and doubters. 

The Shorefast Foundation, the Inn's charitable wing, declares its support of local cultural and economic prosperity, but locals say they don't see much evidence of that support. Fogo Island's road potholes are just as atrocious as elsewhere in Newfoundland. The excellent trails are kept up by the towns themselves, not the Inn. Businesses are shuttered and empty, or not visited by the Inn's clientele. Locals we met still work 3 or 4 jobs to make ends meet, and are grateful for the cooperative crab plant set up by local fishers. Almost none of the Inn's staff is local. Meanwhile, there are no places to rent, as the Inn has bought up more than a hundred houses for staff, but only for those who come from away. The last doctor on the island is leaving. And why is there not a craft brewery on Fogo Island of all places?

It has been a lesson. Carefully worded propaganda read from afar had us thinking what we were meant to think. But when you get close, and kick the tires a bit, the gilt comes off pretty easily.  

After a wonderful two days of hiking, conversing, and plotting our murder mystery on Fofo Island idea, we arose early to catch the ferry. Waiting for the arriving cars to drive off the ferry, we spied an incongruous Porsche Boxster convertible coming down the ferry ramp in the cold sunshine, top down. 

This is not a car built for Fogo roads. It was obvious where they were heading.