THE SIX BASIC CANADIAN HIGHWAY HOLIDAYS
There are now more than 2,000 camping grounds spotted on ivad maps of Canada, and camping is our fastestgrowing way of holidaying. An artist who is also Canada's most ardent camper here takes you on a coast-tocoast tour, made up of six two-week trips. Key locations are shown, on the route-maps overleaf, by the signs above
A TORONTO ARTIST named Alan Collier would be the leading contender for the Canadian National Amateur Camping Championships, if there were such a marvelous contest. When Collier returns from a camping trip to Newfoundland this summer, he and his family will have camped Canada from coast to coast. Since 1956, when they first leased a trailer and headed for the open road, they have been to British Columbia three times, the Maritimes twice, and up to the Yukon and Alaska twice.
Although Collier is a sort of exaggerated example of the million-odd Canadians to whom camping is the best of all possible vacations, he doesn’t look like a camper at all. He’s five feet eleven inches tall, slightly rotund at a hundred and ninety pounds, almost bald and. of all things for the open road, goateed most of the time. He makes up for the goatee by dressing in a faded khaki shirt and trousers. “It's the best color.” he maintains, “because it's light enough not
to attract flies (blue, as in denim, attracts them most) and it doesn't show the dirt."
Collier and his family are trailer campers, who are slightly different from tent campers. His outfit, the second trailer he has owned, cost him thirty-five hundred dollars in I960 when he traded his first trailer in on it. This year he’s pulling it with a Land Rover in order to be able to travel roads that an ordinary car can't negotiate, but before that he traveled with an eight-cylinder Chevrolet. “I didn't find that it hurt the car," he said. “I drove it my usual ninety thousand miles and I never had any trouble due to the trailer."
Trailer campers are softies compared to tent campers. Anyway, that’s the way Ruth Collier sees it. “I’m crazy about camping in a trailer,” she told me, “but not in a tent. I like a few creature comforts.” The creature comforts in her twenty-foot trailer include a toilet, shower, gas refrigerator, running water, three-burner gas stove
with an oven, two double beds that fold up into something else, and a space heater. “But we don't use the space heater unless the weather is very cold,” Ruth said. "1 just turn on the stove burners and switch on a little fan to circulate the warm air. It takes the chill off.” Before their son was born, the Colliers camped in a tent for two weeks in summer on the north shore of Lake Superior, and Ruth didn't like it. But on two occasions Alan Collier lived in a tent while working at Larder Lake during the Depression.
When Collier first started camping in earnest in 1956. he was one of about 170,000 campers to visit Canada’s national parks. Last year he was among nearly 630,000 campers who used them. So strong is the new' pressure that Collier and his fellow campers are bringing to bear on the national parks alone that the department of northern affairs foresees itself increasing the present five thousand tent and trailer spaces to more than
twelve thousand in four years’ time.
The national parks’ ninety - eight campgrounds make up only a small percentage of the total number of campgrounds available to campers in Canada. Rand McNally's 1963 Campground Guide lists a total of 2,058 federal, provincial, municipal and private grounds. The Colliers have stayed in the biggest of them — Banff Park's Tunnel Mountain campground, which has 950 tent and trailer spaces — but they will never be able to get their trailer into the smallest, the two-tent campgrounds in Georgian Bay Islands National Park.
Camping appeals to the Colliers for the same reason it appeals to thousands of other campers: Economy. “1 couldn't possibly afford to go away for three months in the summer any other way,” Collier said. “Actually, it costs us less to go camping than it does to stay home because I rent the house while we're away." Collier figures his trips cost him about ten dollars a day.
To the people who sell camping equipment, camping is big business. The newspaper Home Goods Retailing exuberantly calls it "an expanding multimillion-dollar consumer market” and rubs its editorial hands in glee, reporting on the Ontario camping equipment maker who increased his sales from seven hundred thousand dollars in 1955 to two million dollars in 1962. The basic outfit on which this expanding business is founded is a tent, a stove, sleeping bags, cooking pots, plastic dishes, stainless-steel cutlery, and a cooler. At its simplest and most basic it costs about two hundred dollars, but it can go to several times that amount. Department-store catalogues list tents that start at around thirty dollars and go up to a hundred and fifty dollars. If you want a tent that comes with its own little trailer, prices range from around four hundred dollars to about seven hundred dollars, which is beginning to nudge
the price of a second - hand basic trailer — that is, one with an icebox instead of a refrigerator, and no toilet. That's the kind of trailer Alan Collier and his family started with seven years ago. They rented it that year for a trip to the west coast because they weren't sure they either wanted to own it or could afford to. Today their trailer is as much a part of their lives as the house they have lived in for fourteen years in Toronto.
For Maclean's Alan Collier has divided the country into six basic areas and planned a two-week camping trip for each one of them. With the exception of the Ontario route, which he’s only partially covered. Collier has traveled every mile of every one. His first camping tip: write to the department of travel in the provinces your trip will cover and they’ll send you all the detailed information you will need about campground locations, equipment and fees.
To follow the Colliers’ six vacation trails, see
Highway holidays: continued
Mileage: 2,500 Time: 1517 days Cost: $150 $170
AI AN t oí i n i&; i EARNED one thing about camping on his trips to British C olumbia: Don't ask the natives for directions. "The people in Victoria told us we couldn't possibly drive to Long Beach (on the west shore of Vancouver Island), and we heard the same thing in Port Alberni,” he said. "But we spent a month there and it was one of the nicest interludes we have had.” The locals didn't think you could drive to Long Beach because it's reached by a fifty-mile road open to tourists only after logging stops, or on weekends.
Long Beach is the only place in Canada where a motorist can get an unobstructed look at the Pacific Ocean. "It's so big — twelve miles long
— that you feel absolutely alone,” Collier said, "and this is one of the reasons to go camping
— it lets you get away by yourself for a while.” Collier spent his time at Long Beach sketching,
but his wife and his son Ian, who is thirteen, dug into local history. "By the time we left Long Beach the local people were telling us what to look for on every back road.” Ruth Collier told me. The Colliers have toured B. C. three times.
Alan Collier suggests this round trip: From Victoria, drive out through Nanaimo and Port Alberni to Long Beach, and stay there at least a few days. Then return to Nanaimo for the ferry to Vancouver. On the mainland, Collier suggests Highway 7, the north shore road, out of Vancouver. It's a more meandering road than Highway I, but, generally speaking, the more the road wanders on the map, the more interesting it is to drive. From Hope you can take Highway I north, following the Cariboo trail along one of the most spectacular drives in Canada. The road goes all the way to Prince George, with a side trip from Quesnel to Barkerville, a restored gold-rush town where you can pan for gold if you want to.
From Prince George Highway 16 goes west to Hazelton and the wild, beautiful, heavily forested Coast Mountains. Along the Bulklcy River you can see more bald eagles at salmon time than you would see sparrows in Toronto. Near Hazelton, at the Indian villages of Kispiox, Kitwanga and Kitwancool, you'll find some of the finest collections of totem poles in their natural setting in the world. On your way back from Hazelton you can take a side trip to Dawson Creek, the start of the Alaska Highway, if you have three or four extra days and don't mind adding another five hundred miles. Otherwise, head back down Highway 97 to the Bridge Lake road just south of Hundred Mile House and follow it to Kamloops.
It was near Kamloops that the Colliers came across a couple with a six-week-old infant and a fourteen-month-old baby, camping in a Volkswagen station bus. "They didn't even have a tent,” Collier said. "The parents slept out under the trees and the children slept in the car — one on a seat and one in a basket.’’ From Kamloops you can drive east again to Mt. Revelstoke where Collier's all-time favorite campground is located on the top of the mountain; then south through the hot, dry desert country of the Okanagan valley where irrigation makes fruit growing possible, and back to Vancouver by way of the spectacularly engineered Princeton - Hope highway. "This is part of the old fur brigade trail,” Collier told me, “and you can still see traces of the trail cut through the bush. In some places in Manning Provincial Park the road is carved right out of the cliffs — its construction is miraculous.” ▲
"NOISE AND CONFUSION are the way to tell a greenhorn from a veteran camper,” Alan Collier maintains. "I remember three young men on the Alaska Highway once whose car had New Jersey plates. When they came in they spread their tent on the ground and walked around it, calling out to one another and sort of looking at the tent, as if it would set itself up. There were some small gnats in the air at the time — flying gnats, not biting gnats — and these fellows kept slapping at them. Then one of them got a bug bomb out of the car and started spraying little puffs of insecticide at individual gnats. As 1 walked by with a pail of river water one said: ‘Can you drink that water?’ I told him he could if he boiled it. ‘Boil it!' he exclaimed, and I got the impression
Camper Collier's sketch of the clear view of the Pacific at Long Beach, on Vancouver Island
he was surprised to discover water would boil.
I think they had stayed in motels all the way from New Jersey.”
In comparison, C ollier can be out sketching fifteen minutes after pulling into a campground. “As soon as we enter a camp,’ C oilier said. Ruth goes into the trailer to start dinner, Ian unhitches the car, and I get out the jacks to level up the trailer. We all know' what we’re doing and we go about it quietly.” It was on one of their trips through the mountains that the Colliers met the most efficient and probably the oldest couple of campers they have encountered. “They were retired, and they didn’t like traffic and they didn’t like dust." Collier said, “so they used to get up at three in the morning, drive until about two in the afternoon when the h-at and traffic began to increase, then pull into a campground and have their pick of the camping spots. The morning w'as the best time for him to take animal photographs, too — that was his hobby — and they were in bed in their camper truck every night at seven.
A camper truck is a three-quarter-ton pickup wdth a camper body attached — it’s not as spacious as a trailer, but it’s easier to manoeuvre.
Collier has found campers to be a pleasant, informal, shirt-sleevey lot. "When you meet people in camp you chat with them about your rig and about good places to camp. You exchange information about the road and tell lies about camping. A camper must be a certain kind ol person — easygoing and relaxed,” Collier believes. “We’ve met a lot of them at their homes afterwards and they strike us as being exactly the same as w'hen we met them on the road, whether they’re teachers, soldiers, doctors or executives.”
Collier’s mountain trip runs from Calgary west towards Banff, then cuts south along the Kananaskis trail through Alberta’s Rocky Mountains Forest Reserve. This is a road for real campers, not for speeders; it’s loaded with campgrounds, but there are no service stations. Take a side trip from Coleman east through Frank and Pincher Creek then south to Waterton Lakes National Park, a lovely spot to camp. From Waterton you can drive back through Coleman to the Crowsnest Pass and into B. C.’s coal-mining country, then north along combined Highway 93 and 95, with the Selkirk Mountains rising on your left and the Rockies on your right, to Banff National Park.
Don’t go to the town of Banff: Collier believes you won’t even get gas at a service station there unless you drive a Cadillac and look like you tip twenty dollars. He hates the big trailer camp there
with its paved streets, numbered slots, and general subdivision air. But he strongly suggests a side trip out to Mount Revelstoke National Park over the Rogers Pass highway to spend a few days camping on the top of Mount Revelstoke, as the Colliers did in 1958 when they were the first people to reach its sixty-five-hundred-foot campground with a trailer. "Some of the switchback turns were so sharp that the tail fins of the car dug into the trailer,” Collier remembers, “but
Mileage: 2,249 Time: 15-17 days Cost: $150-$170
CAMPING BRINGS OUT the resourcefulness in people, or at least it does in Alan Collier. Each trip he takes results in the discovery of some tiny flaw in his trailer, and he figures out an ingenious way to overcome it. For instance, in i960 he found that the bouncing of the trailer knocked clothes off the rod they hung on in the trailer
1 did three or four of the trip’s best paintings there, it was so beautiful."
From Revelstoke go back to Lake Louise where you can pick up Highway 93 north to Jasper. It’s probably the most spectacular drive in all of North America. From Jasper you can go right out to Edmonton, and either head in the direction of the Alaska Highway and the Yukon, or return south along the northern part of the Kananaskis trail to Calgary. ▲
clothes closet, so that the end of the day would find them all in a heap on the floor. On his way continued overleaf
Highway holidays: continued
through the Prairies to the Yukon that year, he found a way to stop the hangers from bouncing off: he nailed a coil spring along the top of the rod, loose enough to slip the hangers under, but tight enough to prevent them falling off.
This year he got another of his heart’s desires
— a folding plastic water bottle that holds four gallons and has a screw top. “You can't carry water in a pail in the car without spilling it,” he told me. “and that means you have to camp near water. But with this bottle, I can camp any place and go for water in the car.” Collier thinks its amazing how many campers go out on the road in this country without two things he considers absolute essentials — a bucket and a good hatchet or axe. “I can't count the number of times I have seen campers trying to drive tent pegs with a hammer when they needed an axe.”
Something else the Colliers believe is a great help to a camper heading for a new part of the country is some knowledge of the history of the place. For their Prairie trips they read up on Riel
— “you run across things connected with him and the rebellion all across the Prairies," Collier said. The Colliers' Prairie trips also taught them something about cities — generally speaking, cities have few facilities for trailers, and Winnipeg is hopeless. On their first trip to the Prairies they couldn’t find a place to park in Winnipeg and had to go on to Portage la Prairie to stop.
Generally speaking, a Prairie trip can cover much more ground than, say, a Maritime trip, without taking any longer. The roads are straighter and the grades are smaller.
Collier starts his Prairie trip at Winnipeg with a swing east to the Whiteshell Forest Reserve via Highway \ and back by Highway 4 to take in the restored Hudson’s Bay post at Fort Garry. Collier was not favorably impressed with Whiteshell. “There are twelve campgrounds there,” he says. "One of them is like a small Banff, only it's untidy and slummy, as if the people were camped there for the whole summer. We paid our fifty cents, but turned around and left again." They stopped at another campground, w'hich was unimproved and uncrowded, partly because an almost invisible sign made it so hard to find. West from Winnipeg the tour goes through the oil country around Virden then into Saskatchewan through Regina, Moose Jaw and Swift Current (there's a very nice commercial campground run by the Junior Chamber of Commerce at Swift Current) to the Cypress Hills Provincial Park, where Riel hid out on his way to the United
States. Back to Swift Current and head north up Highway 4 and east on Highway 15 to the site of the South Saskatchewan dam, then north through Saskatoon and Prince Albert to Lac la Ronge for fishing such as the south of Canada hasn’t seen in fifty years. But Lac la Ronge is a side trip. The main tour heads east along Highway 3 south of Prince Albert to Hudson Bay. From Hudson Bay you can go cither north to the mining country of The Pas and on farther to Flin Flon (where it begins to get very Arctic-looking), or south through Kamsack to pick up Highway 10 at Garland. There are good campgrounds in the Duck Mountain Forest Reserve, but Riding Mountain National Park is a disgrace. “It looked just like a slum on the edge of town,” Collier reported. “We went on to stay at a commercial campground at Portage la Prairie.”
Mileage: 1,512 Time: 17 days Cost: $170
THERE WAS A DAY when camping meant sleeping on a brush bed and cooking a can of beans over an open fire, but those days are gone forever, at least in Ontario. The Ontario government has to buy wood to stock its campgrounds now, but no experienced camper relies on finding enough there. Most campers carry a camp stove operated on white gas or naphtha, and most of them have a
A Collier favorite: the campground at Corney Brook, on Cape Breton’s Cabot Trai
bag of charcoal in the trunk of the car in case of a barbecue. Under ideal circumstances, a campground in an Ontario provincial park has a space fifty feet wide for each tent or trailer and is equipped with a table, a fireplace, grill, and a garbage can. On each side of it is a blank fiftyfoot space designed to give the campers some privacy. But when the big rush comes on Dominion Day, civic holiday and Labor Day weekends campers spread into overflow areas where they may be jammed in, barely leaving room to drive a car between the tents. Ontario camps don’t yet provide washing machines or showers for campers, but the government is toying with the idea of putting them in if campers keep increasing. In 1962, for instance, Ontario logged 1,058,203 camper-days, a twenty-two percent increase over 1961.
In Ontario, as everywhere else, most campers have children with them, and this brings up the problem of keeping the kids occupied in the car. When the Colliers started camping Ian was six. Ruth Collier got a big piece of denim and sewed a number of small pockets onto it, like a shoe bag, and filled the pockets with crayons, string, colored paper, clastic bands, scotch tape, coloring books and the like, and put it over the front seat so that it hung down in the back. “It even had a cowboy and Indian costume in it,” she says, “and you have no idea how many guises a sixyear-old with that equipment can appear in.” But this year Ian is bringing books. He’s also bringing his own pup tent for sleeping alone outside, and
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making plans for camping trips of his own when he's eighteen. Ruth Collier doesn’t advise anybody with a teenage child to take up camping. "The kid will just be bored," she said. "They have to grow into it or they can't stand it." She thinks six to twelve is the best stage for children to go camping, “when they're making collections." The Colliers have never had any trouble getting Ian to go with them: in fact, when they have mentioned a summer boys' camp he has answered with a flat "no."
. Although the Colliers' experience of camping in Ontario is slightly limited, they have found it an easy province to camp in. “For one thing.’ Alan said, “you can get ice almost any place, probably because Ontario has always been a popular camping and fishing province, and ice-selling is an established business."
The spine of southern Ontario is Highway 401, a beautifully engineered but sometimes fatally boring fourlaner that stretches, with some interruptions, from Windsor to Montreal. But for a camper who believes Collier’s Law — the more wandering the road, the more interesting the trip — the thing to do is get off 401 and follow the older highways through the towns, unless you're in a hurry. There are no camp grounds (just picnic tables) on Highway 401, but paralleling smaller roads are well supplied. This is particularly true between Toronto and the Quebec border; one of the best is the municipal campground at Brockville.
Collier’s circle tour of Ontario heads east from Toronto to Upper Canada Village, near Morrisburg, then north to Ottawa which, like Toronto and Winnipeg, is a terrible place to be with a trailer. When the Colliers went there they had to park the trailer in a friend's driveway because there was no other place to leave it. From Ottawa, head west again to Algonquin Provincial Park, but plan on getting there early; although the interior of the park is remote from civilization, the campgrounds near the road are usually crowded, and if you leave your arrival too late in the day you may be out of luck. From Algonquin the route heads southwest through the beautiful Muskoka Lakes district to Georgian Bay. The Bruce Peninsula makes an interesting side trip if you get oft the main road and go down Hp the water tor a look at the islands, oays and headlands. You can continue south along the shore of Lake Huron and go inland to Stratford for a few days before heading for Sarnia and Point Pelee National Park. From Point Pelee take Highway 3 east to Welland and Niagara Falls, then the Queen Elizabeth Way through what remains of the Niagara fruit belt back to Toronto. A
Mileage: 1,420 Time: 7 -14 days Cost: $70-$140
ONE OF THE DIFFICULTIES of Camping, it has always seemed to the Colliers, is getting fresh vegetables and fruit. “This was especially so in Quebec,’’ Ruth Collier said, “and I don't know why it should be. unless it’s because peas and potatoes are late-summer crops and we were there early in July." Since the family’s trip through Quebec in 1957. frozen vegetables and such easy-to-keep foods as dried soups have become universally available. “You can’t keep frozen vegetables very long in a camp cooler or even in our little refrigerator,” Mrs. Collier said, “but you can buy them just before you use them, and they’ll stay frozen for at least a few' hours even in a cooler.”
The Colliers had a language problem on their trip through Quebec. “We both have a little French vocabulary, but that’s about all," Alan admitted. "We found it didn't help much in the small towns along the north shore of the Gaspé. My pronunciation of beurre, for instance, leaves French Canada baffled.” They spent an agonizing afternoon in a tiny Gaspé hamlet when they had what they feared was serious car trouble. “Try explaining a funny noise in the engine block to someone who doesn't have any idea what you're saying and see how helpless you can really feel." Collier said. "To make matters worse, w'hen a mechanic who spoke a little English finally showed up, the noise went away.”
The Colliers also discovered in Quebec that the most interesting thing a child can do on a camping trip is take a guided tour, particularly of a big industrial plant, like the aluminum plant at Arvida. "Children
just love them," Ruth said. “They give the lecture their complete attention, and they seem to absorb a lot more information than adults. Maybe it's because of the break from camping routine."
Alan Collier’s Gaspé trip can be
done in a week, if that’s all the time you’ve got. but it's far better to take ten days or two weeks and give yourself a chance to enjoy the countryside. Starting at Montreal you can
Mileage: 2,069 Time: 17 days Cost: $170
WHILE THE COLLIERS are in Newfoundland this summer, Alan Collier will do about seventy sketches —
drive east on either Highway 2 or 3 to Quebec City. Highway 2 follows the north shore of the St. Lawrence and Highway 3 the south shore. You should drive to Quebec by one road and return to Montreal by the other. As a camper, avoid Highway 9 — it's meant only for fast, hell-for-leather driving.
From Quebec the road goes north into Laurentide Park, which has the most officious park bureaucracy in Canada; you’ll have a pile of forms that thick to cope with, unless things have changed a great deal since the Colliers wfere there in '57. Continue on Highway 54 to Chicoutimi, and leave yourselves an extra day to take the boat trip from Chicoutimi to Tadoussac and back to see the Saguenay River. The route from Chicoutimi leads south on Highway 16 to St.Siméon and the ferry to Rivière-duLoup. From there Highway 10 takes you to Mont-Joli w'here you can pick up Highway 6. the Gaspé road — a wonderful swinging road that rises up into the magnificent rolling hills, then dips down again almost to the water’s edge. The best campground of the trip is at Cap-Bon-Ami, where the St. Lawrence River meets the gulf. It has high cliffs above and below it, but they're well fenced. Highway 0 takes you around past Percé and the bird sanctuary at Bonaventure Island, which is worth a day all by itself, then along the very English shore of the Bay of Chaleur to Matapédia and north from there to Mont-Joli where you pick up Highway 10 to Rivièredu-Loup. You can follow the TransCanada Highway from Rivière-duLoup to Quebec City and stay at a very good campground right by the bridge in Ste Foy. a suburb just west of the city. A
small oil paintings on twelve-by-sixteen-inch canvases from which he will work up larger paintings this winter, and maybe twenty drawings that will be completed on the spot. Ruth will keep a diary of the trip in which she will record the secrets she discovers about the places they stay. And Ian will probably start another collection
— he already has shells from both coasts, rocks, and newspapers. Like most campers, they do something while they're away that is a tangible record of their trip. The only difference with the C'olliers is that for Alan the trip is business, although he enjoys it no less on that account. Collier paints, but other people collect semiprecious stones — the beach fit Parrsboro in Nova Scotia is a good place for rockhounds — others collect stickers for their car windows, and
the Colliers once met a couple who collected old bottles from ghost towns. At night campers sit around the campfires, mull over the treasures of the day and plan tomorrow's excursions.
For most campers, just being out in the air around a campfire is the principal form of relaxation at the end of the day. But occasionally there are organized entertainments for them. The Colliers, and many other campers, don’t quite approve of indoor movies, such as those held in a theatre
building at Fundy National Park, but they do appreciate Fundy’s craft shop with its professional instructors, and they like the heated salt-water pool. But the Colliers are highly sophisticated and self-sufficient campers. The Federal Department of Northern Affairs, which administers National Parks, reports that one of the commonest criticisms is that “there isn’t enough to do’’ in the parks. Collier makes more or less the same criticism, but he doesn’t think indoor movies
are the answer. He would like to see us emulate the Americans and train our park staffs to give lectures on various aspects of the parks, as in Yellowstone National Park, for instance. “We’ve attended lectures like these and found them very interesting.”
Collier’s Maritime trip takes in Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick. Starting at Halifax he suggests taking Highways 7 and 4 to Sydney in Cape Breton. Before leaving the area there are three side trips you should take: one to Louisburg to see the famous French fort being restored; another to the mining country around Glace Bay; and a third to Baddeck for the Alexander Graham Bell museum there. When you get to the Cape Breton Highlands, try to avoid the big camps like Ingonish Beach, which Collier has seen so crowded that the ropes of one tent actually crossed the ropes of another in the search for space. Collier advises choosing one of the smaller campgrounds like Corney Brook instead. You can follow Highway 19 back to the mainland via the Canso causeway, then Highway 4 to Pictou. Just beyond Pictou, at Caribou, you catch the ferry for Wood Islands, P.E.I.; but try to avoid the weekend rush because this is a small ferry. Otherwise you may have to wait for hours to cross. Once on the island, Highway 1 goes through Charlottetown and from there you can head on out to Prince Edward Island National Park. You should return to the mainland by the big car ferry at Borden; you don't need a reservation for this one. Moncton, in New Brunswick, has the famous tidal bore (there’s a clock showing the times right at the park) and the astonishing optical illusion of Magnetic Hill is close to town. On the road again you should take a side trip to Fundy National Park, then on to Saint John and its Reversing Falls. If you have a trailer, maybe the Saint John tourist people will let you park it in their parking lot by the river — the C'olliers could find no other place.
From Saint John the trip up the river about as far as Grand Falls is worth taking, but the Colliers don’t recommend going all the way around the province through Campbellton, Bathurst and Chatham; they found it dull country. Instead they suggest you head back into Nova Scotia, stopping at the CBC’s International Service broadcasting station near the border for the tour and lecture there. Highway 2 in Nova Scotia goes through Springhill to the Minas Basin, whose fifty - foot tides are the highest in the world. Keep on Highway 2 past Truro and Stewiacke to Highway 14 for Wolfville and the Evangeline country. Before reaching Wolfville you pick up Highway 1 at Windsor; it goes right down the Annapolis valley. You should leave it at AnnapofisRoyal for a short side trip on Highway 1-A to Port Royal (remember the Order of Good Cheer?) which has been beautifully rebuilt by Lunenburg boat builders. From there you can follow Highway 1 all the way to Yarmouth, where it becomes Highway 3 and leads back through Shelburne and Liverpool and past the road to Lunenburg (very much worth a side trip) to Halifax. ★