Gaspé Part 4: Forillon National Park

Perce Rock from Rt. 132 going back toward Gaspe

We drove 40 miles north today to check out this wonderful, wooded park along the coastline—and drove to the end of the land and the end of the Appalachians. We could not have ordered a more beautiful day—sunny, breezy, and cool. There was little new to see—just different ways of looking at it. We went as far east as the road would take us, along the rocky cliffs jutting out into the sea and, at every bend in the road, there was something new to appreciate.


 Of course, by now, we should have been heading southwest instead of northeast to get to Prince Edward Island via New Brunswick, but we took a little side trip to see more of Forillon, which basically took all day!

Our last stop in Forillon was an “Interpretation Center,” basically a visitor’s center. We decided to take a little path on foot out into the park toward the shore. I was so surprised to look in the distance and see a lighthouse right there, up on a cliff across a narrow strip of water. I wanted my camera with the big lens, so Robin said he would run back to the car and get it. I proceeded on my own a bit—until some beast stepped out of a wooded area right onto the path in front of me. I was so startled—being out there alone—I panicked and backed away from it. I have no idea what it was. I’m sure it wasn’t a bear—it wasn’t dark brown or black and it didn’t look like a bear. I understand there are lots of black bears in that area. It was a low-to-the-ground round furry body with a big tail, kind of a light grayish brown. At first I thought it was a really big beaver, but it wasn’t the right color—I probably haven’t seen a beaver for about 40 years anyway. I wanted to see wildlife—but not that way. I backed up until I couldn’t see him anymore and then hurried to the car. Robin couldn’t believe I hadn’t taken a picture of it. I had my other camera, but I was in survival mode. First he said it might have been a wolverine, but he told me a wolverine would have bitten me. Maybe it was a woodchuck. I know what a woodchuck looks like, and it was bigger than that.

Instead of walking the path, we drove to a cliff nearer to the lighthouse, and it was a wonderful sight! Huge pieces of driftwood were strewn on the beach below it, and all was right with the world. I really was hoping for a moose, but none were out yet.

Tomorrow—Monday—is a travel day. Many miles to go before we sleep. The travel day should have been today, but we got off our rather loose agenda for too long. Before we left Percé this morning, we had breakfast at a little bistro—today was its last day to be open for the season, so we helped them celebrate. Problem is, around here people who work in restaurants have such a leisurely routine. We finish eating, and they take forever to bring us the check, so what should have been 45 – 60 minutes, turned into 90! So our day was slow in starting. Slow is often good. I think there is power in the pause. At work I feel as if I plug myself in and never slow down!