Day 78. 20k’s East of Campbellton on a Sand Spit to Pokeshaw. New Brunswick.

What a glorious camp site. A narrow sand/gravel bridge with the ocean on one side and a river on the other. 

A leisurely pack up and ready to go around 9.30am. Getting back along the sand spit should have been easy as we had no trouble getting in. However, a right turn to avoid a log, instead of going over it, and we were stuck deep in muddy wet sand. Oh Dear!!!

This wasn’t going to be an easy extraction as the two driver side wheels were deeply stuck. I won’t bore you with the details but after 21/2 hours of sweat and a little progress, by jacking up each wheel in turn and packing driftwood under. The jack first of course, as it kept disappearing into the bog. We were edging backwards out of the mud. 

We decided that rather than sweat for another couple of hours, Jen would go for help. Amazingly about 40min later a 4×4 was heading out towards me. 

Michel’s wife very kindly offered to call him from work and get him to come down to help us. So, with a kinetic recovery strop and a hefty pull, she was out of the mud’s captive grasp. Thank you Michel. You did a great job. We are indebted to you. 

It is very fortunate that the tide was on it’s way out, not coming in. 

The New Brunswick border was only 24k’s from our camp site. Mmmm, a very different feel about it. Okay it took us 30 minutes to drive across the bridge into Campbellton, as it was down to one lane, but it feels more relaxed. A more balanced language offering too. Not, just French. 

Stopping for lunch gave me an opportunity to stand in a bowl of water and wash the mud off legs and arms. Neal, if you are reading this, the bog was about the same consistency as that at Lake Disappointment. Only there was no strapling behind, to winch ourselves out on. The big difference though, nobody was coming to get us if we failed!!! I still remember not sleeping that night, weighing the consequences. 

The next town on the way was Bathurst. A small city really, and it’s already 4.30pm. No campsites under 4 star, so we headed out along the peninsula coastal road to find a camp. 

It’s a gorgeous stretch of countryside with the shoreline running parallel with the road. But no camping. Spying a group of caravans in a mown field, we chanced our arm and asked a group of caravaners if they would mind us pitching our tent in the corner. The owner is away so it will be interesting to see his reaction when he returns home. Will we be evicted?  It’s 20m to the sea. It’s been a warm and lovely day….apart from our wee misadventure…:). There is a mist lying just above the sea but it’s filtering the sun. 

Time to read about the Spanish Civil war and relax for a bit..:)

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