Day 5 (a.k.a. the day things fell apart…literally)
I woke with the sun again, around 5:00 a.m. I peeked out the mesh window of my “bedroom” in the van and noticed runners in the field beside the road I’m parked on. I’d later discover the field had a mowed path for the community. The road where I camped was part of the route, explaining all the walkers the previous evening.
I mapped out my day over a cup of Joe. I only needed to drive to North Sydney, Nova Scotia, which was about six-ish hours away. As I was washing my coffee mug, the gooseneck piece of my sink faucet flew into the air, and the water shot up like a geyser. “Aaaah!” I hollered, as I quickly turned the water off. It was shocking how much water came out in the 2 seconds it took me to turn off the faucet. I grabbed my dish towel and mop it up, perplexed as to what just happened.
I inspected the gooseneck and the washer appeared intact, but there was a plastic ring around it with a full length crack. Is it supposed to be like that to fit around the faucet? I had no idea, so I took a couple of photos and uploaded them to the ModVans Facebook Group.
While I waited for someone to reply to my predicament, I replaced the gooseneck. It felt secure, so I gently turned the water on, and the faucet flew off again, as soon as I take my hand away. Maybe the plastic ring is supposed to fit at the base of the hole where the gooseneck sits, to keep it in place, I thought. I took it off the gooseneck and wedged it into the bottom of the faucet’s receptacle. Big mistake. The plastic piece prohibited the faucet from reaching the bottom of its home.
Several people chimed in about my post within 20 minutes, including P.J. Tezza, the founder and primary mastermind behind ModVans. It’s one thing I love about having a ModVan—the owners are very engaged in the group and often help owners troubleshoot or lend advice about DIY modifications. Here’s P.J.’s reply (the most helpful, unsurprisingly) if you’d like to read it. The long and short of it is that I needed professional help and tools (and possibly a new faucet–ugh).
A quick Google search and I added The Trailer Guys to my route, a well-reviewed RV supply and repair shop. I quickly packed up my things and headed to Costco in St. John for less expensive gas (which still amounts to about $6/gallon CAD….which is about $4.50 USD with the current conversion—but at 15-16 mpg in the ModVan, it hurts no matter what!).
When I was five minutes away from Costco, my tire pressure light came on. What now? I pulled into a gas station that had an air compressor and looked for the sticker on the inside of the driver’s door to make sure the pressures were all close to what they should be. The right rear tire was a few pounds low, but more disturbing is that the front and rear tire pressures were backwards (they should differ by about 15 pounds of pressure).
We had them rotated just before I left, and I suspected the tire place didn’t take that into account. I have no idea what the implications of this might have been after driving well over 1,000 miles that way, but all I could do was bleed the front twoand pump up the rear tires.
As I was pumping up the passenger rear tire, I noticed a gash in the sidewall. Seriously?! It didn’t t look super deep, but this was the tire whose pressure was slightly low. Hopefully Costco’s tire department would be able to counsel me on what to do, once I got there. Despite the hassle it was creating, it was better than a blowout on the Trans Canada Highway!
Costco’s tire department (which, by the way, had a complimentary tire filling station–with Nitrogen, no less) looked at the tire and immediately told me I shouldn’t drive on it. They did not carry the size tire I needed either (it’s a commercial size), but they quickly recommended Steve’s Tire just down the street a mile or so. “They go out of their way to help people in a bind,” the kind associate assured me.
I made the short drive to Steve’s Tire, and despite what the Costco associate told me, I suspected told they’d be booked solid and I’d have to wait until tomorrow (like many US-based tire places would say). I also suspected they’d have to order the tire since it’s not a standard size (also typical in the US).
Instead, I was greeted by an upbeat, friendly woman who quickly found a used tired in their inventory that would work. She told me they could replace it while they were on their lunch break. Say what?!
While I waited for the tire replacement we chatted. Truth be told, I think she just wanted to continue talking to me so she could hear my southern accent. I’ve never thought it was that pronounced, but apparently it is if you’re from New Brunswick, and she loved it!
When she learned that I was driving the van solo to Newfoundland, her infatuation with my Southern twang was replaced by her enthusiasm for my “bravery.” She told me she was recently divorced and taking her kids out camping for the first time soon. Apparently I was just the person she needed to meet to bolster her courage for the endeavor.
I loved my entire exchange with her, and I can only hope I sufficiently conveyed my gratitude for her help. And that the tire they gave me looked like it had slightly more tread than the other three on the van and was only $80 CAD made it even sweeter.
Next up was the RV repair shop, where I had just as positive of an experience. A very kind older man, who happened to be the former owner of the business until he “retired” (he still likes to work a couple of days), took all of about 15 minutes to figure out there was a “set screw” that had come loose. Its sole purpose is to secure the gooseneck to the base.
Problem was, the screw was nowhere to be found now and it was hard to know its size. The service department didn’t have any this small, he suspected. “I only live about ten minutes away and have so many of these sitting around,” the kind man told me. He jumped in his car, and within twenty minutes was pulling back in with a small container of set screws. Ultimately, he discovered the original screw was still in place, he just couldn’t tell until he put his Allen wrench in the tiny hole and tightened the screw with it.
The labor for the small repair cost nearly as much as the tire, but I was so grateful for both businesses and their kindness to help me on the fly.
Finally back on the road with nearly a 3-hour time penalty, I busted open the Costco-size bag of Ms. Vicki’s Tzatziki flavored chips (did you know Ms. Vicki’s is a Canadian company?) and noshed while I drove into Nova Scotia. I was stress eating, even though the stress was (hopefully) behind me now.
Of all the days to have everything go off the rails, this was second worst. Worse would have been the following day when I needed to be in North Sydney on time to catch the ferry I’d reserved months ago. There are only so many spots for cars on the ferry, and those spots often fill up in the high season. My long awaited backpacking trip in Gros Morne felt vulnerable now, and it was hard to relax the rest of the day, even when everything seemed fine again.
There would be no sight seeing now either, only efficient driving as far as I could get before dusk, when darting moose were more likely to be an issue on the roads. I’d had enough hiccups for one day, and I wasn’t about to tempt fate since these things tend to come in threes!
When I reached Port Hastings, Nova Scotia around 8:00 p.m., I stopped for gas and bought a bottle of Nova Scotian wine in the adjoining Liquor Express. A quick glance at iOverlander alerted me to a nearby legal and free area where I could overnight in a parking lot at the southern tip of the Cabot Trail, the famed road around Cape Breton. It was raining and getting dark earlier as a result, and I definitely didn’t want to chance a moose/car encounter. Plus, the wine was calling my name as was the campsite. It would mean I’d have a 2-hour drive in the morning to get to the ferry by 10:00 a.m., but I was used to getting up super early.
The parking lot already had several camper vans in it, and the owners were all mingling outside their vans with wine and beer in hand. After the day’s events, I wasn’t feeling very social. So I sat in the van while I ate dinner and enjoyed a glass of wine while watching a gorgeous sunset over the bay.
It was quite the camping spot, and I had a front row seat to an ocean view at no charge. What could have been a horrible day of stalled plans had worked out just fine, thanks to kind Canadians who didn’t think twice to help an American. I could only hope that my gratitude and friendliness was a reflection of most Americans and their attitudes towards Canada.
After the sun set, I climbed into bed and was treated to the most spectacular display of prolific fireflies I’d seen yet along my journey. They blinked in quick succession and almost had a synchronous quality to them. Fireflies on the edge of the sea. I’m not sure it gets more magical.
Day 6
As usual, I woke with the rising sun. And since I had a 2-hour drive to get to North Sydney to catch the ferry, I didn’t have time to waste. I wanted at least an hour buffer, so I hit the road by 7:00 a.m. I got to North Sydney in time to make a quick grocery and Canadian Tire store run (for fresh veggies and a new tire pressure gauge since I misplaced mine during the tire debacle the day before).
I made a quick stop for more coffee at Tim Horton’s (Canada’s version of Starbucks or Dunkin’) and then entered the Marine Atlantic Ferry lineup. I gathered my belongings for the 7-hour ride—laptop, pullover, travel pillow, homemade veggie wrap, fruit and chips since I wasn’t allowed to get anything out of the van after I left it. Before I knew it, we were driving up the ramp and into the ferry’s belly where the ModVan would stay for the journey.
The ferry was nicer than I expected. It had a gift shop, restaurant, and coffee cafe. I didn’t opt to pay the added cost for a berth (sleeping cabin) since I was traveling in the middle of the day. But they go fast, as do spots for vehicles. Initially, I settled in at a table in the small cafe area. But after the ferry started moving, I couldn’t resist visiting the top deck so I could witness the famed Cape Breton’s coast as we cruised beside it. It was a gorgeous day for a boat ride.
Eventually, I settled into a lounger inside and was grateful the TVs were all on silent mode (I think you could connect to sound via your personal Bluetooth headphones). I napped, wrote blog entires, and watched a couple of home renovation shows with closed captions. The time went by as quickly as it could on a 7-hour ferry ride. I never take Dramamine for boat rides, but I could sense enough motion that I’d recommend it if you’re sensitive.
We arrived in Port au Basque on time, and I was giddy as I drove off the boat and onto Newfoundland. I’d made it! It’s nearly a given you’ll encounter hiccups on road trips, and this was no exception so far. But I’d overcome the challenges and gotten here safely—it was a really good feeling to finally be driving on “The Rock.”
After about an hour’s drive, I pulled into my home for the night—my prettiest iOverlander site yet, perched on the ocean’s edge along a high cliff. Lupine grew in mass profusion nearby, and I could hear the waves lapping the rocks below.
There was another van nearby along with a truck who’s driver appeared to be watching a boat on the sea with binoculars. As he drove by me, I was standing outside my van taking photos of the views. I noticed him rolling down his window and worried I was about to get a scolding for camping here. It was never a problem for plenty of people who commented about the spot in iOverlander, but you never know when bad apples will ruin it for everyone.
“Nice out tonight,” he said to me kindly. “Unbelievably beautiful,” I replied, smiling.
“Just be careful where you walk. The edge is closer than it looks in the tall grass,” he continued.
“Very good to know and I really appreciate you telling me that.” I replied.
I had no intentions on venturing into the tall grass, for fear of that very thing, but I was grateful for his counsel and kindness all the same. He drove off and I heated up a jar of Rao’s soup that I’d heard good things about (chicken gnocchi). I can’t say I was a big fan, but I was definitely a fan of the sunset show, followed by the rising full moon in the clear sky. It was and still remains one of the prettiest places I’ve ever camped in the ModVan.
I am loving following your adventure! Mike and I loved Newfoundland. We definitely want to go back!
What a couple of days!