Following the Viking Trail, Day 2, Western Brook Pond

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Afternoon, June 23, 2008

The skies continued to darken and the drizzle began as we reached Western Brook Pond, our afternoon destination. Ahead of us was a 2 ½-hour boat ride on the pond; just one catch, there is a 2-mile walk before you reach the boat.

Drizzle turned to rain, fog moved in and around the mountains, but we bravely marched off anyway. The trail was good, either wood chips or a board walk over the bogs; a few hills, fairly gentle; however, by the time we reached the boat launch, we were extremely wet and some of us, including me, were pretty tired. Rain gear never covers everything!

The small building where tickets were sold was crammed with 50 or so soaked and dripping people. At least they sold coffee, tea and hot chocolate, and business was brisk. We were told they would decide at 1:00 p.m. whether or not conditions were good enough for the trip. (I imagined a mutiny if the trip were canceled.)

Happily, the trip was on and we got a look at the breath-taking scenery of this remarkable place. Western Brook Pond was carved out by glaciers some 10,000 - 25,000 years ago, during the most recent ice age. When the glaciers melted, the land which had been held down by the weight of the ice rose (isostatic rebound), and the outlet to the Gulf of St. Lawrence no longer existed.

Over time this 19-mile long pond filled with fresh water. In fact, the water is so pure, so free of organic matter and nutrients, that virtually nothing can grow in it - the scientific term is oligotrophic water. Pond often brings to mind a small body of water with slimy, green matter floating on the surface - not this pond

Gradually, the rain slowed to a drizzle as we began the boat trip and most of the passengers ventured out onto the open decks of the boat to marvel at the scenery. Rising 2,000 feet above the water are massive, stone cliffs. Waterfalls tumbled down, and there was still a little snow on the mountain tops.

There is a spectacular example of a hanging valley, and we all chuckled at the name of the largest waterfall we saw, Pissing Mare.

What we didn’t see were living creatures. The fact that the lake is so clean meant there were no birds looking for lunch. As we reached the end of Western Brook and the boat turned around, the fog moved in, the cliffs and mountains disappeared making an eerie ride back to the dock.

Our walk back to the van was leisurely, and we stopped to learn the names of many of the native flowers blooming along the trail. We saw outstanding examples of the provincial flower, Pitcher Plant. There were Pink Lady Slippers, Labrador Tea and many others. Carpets of Bunchberry with their small white flowers covered the ground, and we had a quick look at our first moose, moving quickly through the forest.

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Photos

View from the Boat
Newfoundland is also known as The Rock.

Pissing Mare Falls
I wonder if this is a descriptive name for these falls?

Western Brook Pond
We're smiling because it's stopped raining.

Bunchberry Carpet
Member of the dogwood family, Cornus canadensis. We saw these in so many places.

Pink Lady Slipper or Moccasin Flower
This beautiful flower is a member of the orchid family,(cypripedium acaule).

Pitcher Plant
We saw many native flowers new to us as we walked the trail between Western Brook Pond and the parking lot.