Kilometres Remaining: 7,789/11,978
Goose Bay is a small town, but for Labrador it is a booming city. We packed up the wet tent once more and headed away from Goose Bay. I recall now that we forgot to ask about the forest. Everywhere we looked there were signs on trees warning people that it was not safe to enter the woods... this kind of reminded me of the movie “The Village” where the people were told that there were monsters in the woods but really it was just a myth... I also thought that maybe it was because of hunters. All the way from Newfoundland and beyond we had seen hordes of hunters. It was moose season in Newfoundland and the hunters were everywhere. I think there is an air force base near Goose Bay... maybe that was why... either way... now we will never know.
It was pavement for a while, but it did not take long until we were back to the gravel roads. Gravel was bad, but things can always get worse, and... they did. It was raining yesterday, but today it was snowing. We were gaining altitude as we headed towards Labrador City, and with it it was getting colder. Colder meant that the rain was snow, and the crappy wet gravel road was now a crappy slushy gravel road. Not to mention that while we were on the pavement we noticed that we had picked up a rather nasty wobble coming from the right passenger tire when we drove any faster than 100 km/h. Nothing we could do but keep on truckin’.
I will say that that kind of driving cannot be good for me. Gravel. Blizzard. Construction. Chaos. Chaos. Chaos. It was hard on my eyes, my body, and my mind. It was just plain hard. It took hours to get anywhere and when we did, it was still nowhere. We made it to Churchill Falls and somehow managed to get more fuel. It was surprisingly hard to find the gas station, and given that it was a Sunday it was hard to get directions. I did get some when I went into the hotel which was also the grocery store, school, library, post office, and etc. It was like the one building for everything. There I found a receptionist. I asked her “Do you know where there is a gas station?” “Yep.” She replied. I sat there silently; expectantly. She said nothing. “Uhhh...” I started, “can you tell me where it is?” Eventually she did... but with a calm indifference regarding if I found it or not. We did, and we left that little town.
Hours more and we were in Labrador City. Most of Labrador is accessible by ferry. For years and years Labrador was only accessible by water, but now there are these nasty gravel highways connected to everything. Labrador City is an exception. It is not reachable by water, but instead, but rail. There is a mine there, and it keeps the city going. It is called “Labrador City” but really, it is “The Town of Labrador City.” Still, it was big enough to have a McDonalds and some car dealerships. We had some McDonald’s as a victory meal to say “Yay, we haven’t crashed and died yet!” and then pushed through the snow and ice to a gas station. We asked about if there was an open mechanic, but were disappointed. We would have to stay in Labrador City to wait for a mechanic to open to see Jerusalem, or we had to move on.
We moved on.
Labrador City is near the border to Quebec and it did not take long for use to reach and cross the border. The road in Quebec was much windier than Labrador, but there were more paved sections. It was still mighty terrible. We crawled down the road and crossed about 10 railways tracks. Given the windiness of the road it might have been one track that we crossed again and again. There was more traffic on this road, and people were flying around the curves far faster than I cared to (or was capable of with Jerusalem’s bummed leg).
On we went. Hours and hours we went on these roads. Gravel. Paved. Gravel. Paved. There seemed to be little rhyme or reason to it. In the middle of nowhere we would see a paved road, while near some settlement there might still be gravel. The snow was worsening and there was now some accumulation on the ground. We were supposed to camp at the deserted town of Gagnon at km 390 on Route 389, but when we got to that location there was some trouble. There were some hunters there (going about their business, so don’t worry) and there was a road into the wilderness. The issue was that there was about 6 inches of wet snow on the ground. We drove on the road into the wilderness for a bit but had to turn. We saw some ruins but did not find the town. We turned back because we were concerned about getting stuck while it was still wet, and if it froze over night we would be stuck for certain. That sinking feeling at the back of my mind pushed us to keep going. We returned to the highway to continue on. There were only 50ish km to the next gas station and then we could pull over and rest.
Oh how the blizzard worsened. We did make it to the gas station. It was a gas station with a tiny diner and a few rooms. Gas cost $1.34/L which was the worst we had seen. Fortunately we did not need much. The snow was falling hard and making the roads worse. We got gas and continued. Our goal was to get to a nearby pullout and to camp there, either in the tent, or the car. The sun had set now and the blizzard made it so that we could only drive at 40 km/h. I wanted to stop to rest, after 14ish hours of driving, but I was scared that if we stopped and the roads froze we would never make it out. We continued on, looking for a pull out that we could use. There were many, probably for hunters, but many were at the bottom of hills. If it was at the bottom of a hill and it froze, how would we get out in the morning? It took a long time to find a pull out. We found a decent one but it was wet and muddy. If it froze we would be ok, but what if it didn’t? We could be stuck in the mud. We pressed on through the blizzard. Eventually we saw the sign for an SOS phone. Hydro Quebec seems to rule that land and did good to have SOS phones at decent intervals. They were always on pull outs with gravel for a base. We rolled through the blizzard, sliding our way up hills at barely a crawl, and finally made it to our destination. We pulled into the pull out and stopped.
Thank God.
14 hours. Gravel. Gravel. Pot holes. Construction. Graders. Rocks. Rain. Sleet. Snow. Blizzards! Gah!!!!!!! That was some of the worst driving I have ever seen. I felt almost sick. That sick feeling from climbing hills, enormous bloody hills, and feeling your tires sliding and slipping. Seeing the speedometer shoot up at the tires break into a spin. Fearing that the car will not make it to the top and that you will be stranded far into the middle of nowhere. Sick from skidding on the washboard gravel, or the jolting as the car falls into pot hole after pot hole after pot hold. Lost in the blizzard. Sick of seeing only 15 metres ahead of the car. Sick of fighting the slush as it pulls the car towards the ditch. Sick of driving full into the slush to avoid oncoming traffic, but not knowing if it would be possible to pull back out. 14 hours.
I put in eye drops, grabbed out a pillow, and went to bed.
I slept alright, but I woke twice as cars rushed passed on the highway; I could not shake the feeling that they would hit us. A truck stopped at the SOS stop for a while and I waited, half and eye open, to wait for them to leave. Later a semi joined us to rest at the stop. Like I said, I slept alright, but every two hours or so I woke to turn on the car to head us back up as snow accumulated around us.
14 hours. Long long hours.
Let’s get this straight. Labrador has some of the most beautiful country that I have ever seen, but hell, think twice before you drive through it!
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