Bich's Canadian adventures: Thursday

Sadly, for our Thursday morning adventure, we couldn't take the camera -- or cellphones or, well, anything. So I borrowed most of these from the Internet (thank you, Tidal Bore Rafting Park and Cottages).

Tidal bore rafting is a bit like whitewater rafting, but milder. The Bay of Fundy, on the eastern side of Nova Scotia, is full of amazing tides as the Atlantic Ocean comes in from two sides of the island; the Shubenacadie River, on the easternmost side of the bay, is fed by the bay and experiences tidal bores twice a day. Due to the river's geographic location, these tides are some of the world's highest and strongest. And that tide comes in fast.

After our day of wine tasting in the Annapolis Valley, we drove to Shubenacadie to our cottage at the park. It's pretty remote; there are many places that provide rafting, but ours had the innermost starting point, meaning we had four hours on the river (far longer than most expeditions), and because our date fell on the full moon, we had to be up early Thursday morning to beat the tide out for our "extreme" waves. Wednesday night, though, we opened a bottle of wine, Rich started a fire, and we cooked dinner in our little kitchen. And Brooke took the longest, hottest shower of the trip.

Our little cabin.

Low tide, early evening on Wednesday.

We drove to the local co-op and picked up a frozen meal
(yikes), salads, and we tackled the fresh artichokes we'd bought
from Luckett. They need work, but we did it.

Fireplace for winters.

And our kitchen.

Kinda neat.

We woke up early on Thursday morning and headed to the rafting cabin. Sixteen people would be heading out on two rafts; while I desperately had hoped to not end up in the "douchebag" raft (four 25-year-old bros), a very nice Nova Scotian couple were also in our raft, and the eight of us ended up having a blast.

The Shubenacadie River, at about 7:45 a.m. (low tide)

After riding about 20 kilometers out, which takes about 45 minutes,
we reached a sandbar -- about 10 minutes long,
about five minutes wide. How's that for exact measurements?

After relaxing on the sandbar for about 10 minutes, we heard our two guides yell, "Time to go! Get in the rafts!" They'd caught sight of the tide starting to move in. We hurried back into our rain gear and life jackets, jumped into the raft and pushed off.

And when the tidal bore starts coming in, you'd better
get off that sandbar, because this is where it is just
five minutes later -- that is, no longer visible.
A few minutes later, you would be completely under water.

The amount of water that comes in with the tidal bore each day
equals the amount of water in all of the world's rivers.

And that's what it's like riding the tidal bore back to camp.
The force of the rivers combined with the force
of a tide coming in from the opposite direction creates a roiling rapid,
and watching those waves hit each other and fight each other is fascinating.

In and out of the waves -- the raft guides take you
into the waves, then back out, then back in, depending on
where on the river you are. You're soaked from the start. And half the time,
our raft was almost completely under water because of the season
we were in (full moon just before autumn = rougher waves).

Hope you like water.

The force of the tide keeps the river muddy
all of the time as it pretty much never gets a chance to
settle. It also makes the banks clear as nothing gets
a chance to grow (though lots of people fish in the river).

And this is about the point where Rich fell into the Shubenacadie River. In slow motion, the river seemed to reach up and pull Rich and our native Nova Scotian couple into the water.

Later in the day, when I jumped out of the raft to go mud-sliding, I didn't realize how deep it was, and I went completely under. The mud makes it so dark, I panicked for a second and opened my eyes, only to see nothing but darkness (ouch -- thanks, saltwater). I swore I was under the boat (which made me panic more), so I scrambled to the surface ... which was all of about a foot above me. It was disconcerting.

We rode on an "extreme" day,
which means this is a peaceful picture.

Brooke screamed a lot.

This is Anthony's Nose. When the tide comes in,
you can't see this at all.

Toward the end of the day, depending on how your raft companions feel, you can go mud-sliding. For Rich, the entire day of rafting was worth it for this experience. For a spa girl like Brooke, it was a bit difficult, but there is nothing like this on Earth.

This is where we also realized that our companions were ideal: The other raft, which consisted of eight extremely nice people, all of whom were in their 50s and not super-adventurous, decided to not go mud-sliding, which would have been very disappointing for us. They reached base camp about a half-hour ahead of us, and much cleaner. But without the added fun.

Into a side stream, where you get out,
climb the muddy banks, and ...

... get muddy ...

... and slide into the river.

At the top.

Climbing up. (Rich said I was a prissy girl.
I broke a toenail and destroyed my pedicure.)

I also lost the "pants" part of my convertible hiking pants.
(I came onto the river in pants; I left in shorts.)

Seriously, these people are clean compared to what Rich,
Brooke and our rafting companions looked like.

Oh, and we saw lots of these.

After getting back to the cabins and taking a shower to rinse off all that mud -- which doesn't really work; I still had mud in my toenails three weeks later -- we got in the car again. Fortunately, we were only about 45 minutes from Halifax, so we returned to the city, dropped off our camping gear and checked into our hotel.

A hotel ... with a big shower ... and unlimited hot water.

I had bagged our river clothes, which are now permanently, joyfully stained with mud. I put them in the tub at the hotel and took a nap; being in the sun all day wears me out. So Rich headed out for a walk, and I joined him a couple of hours later for a snack and a beer. And then dinner, a snack, more beer, some wine ...

Looking down toward the harbor

This is a Caesar. It's a Canadian
specialty; it's a bloody Mary, but it uses
clamato juice instead of tomato juice.
It has a celery salt rim and uses a pickled bean
instead of celery.
IT IS AWESOME.

Oysters at Five Fishermen

We kept passing an adorable basement apartment with huge windowsills, which were usually occupied by this crazy-cute cat. If you showed him the tiniest bit of interest, he'd jump up, start meowing, pawing at the windows, rolling over ... being awesome. (It reminded us of the Pooses.)

We stopped for a couple of tastes at Garrison.

After our beer, we decided to hit a comedy club for some giggles -- the place was packed. The headliner was pretty hilarious, but the others were awkward. It was odd to hear some 9/11 humor (don't ask) as Americans in the audience, though the Canadians didn't really find it funny, either.

Then we took a stroll along the harbor on our way back to our hotel; lots of people were out walking, taking in the landmarks and historical markers.

Mr. Cunard, outside the Farmers' Market