What a fantastic place! No biking possible, but if you are wandering through New Brunswick on your bike and you happen to be anywhere near Hopewell Cape, I recommend spending some hours there.
The Flower Pot rocks are at the base of a cliff, and there are a set of stairs leading to the ocean floor. How many flights? Hmm... in spite of the number of times I walked up and down those stairs, I really don't remember. My guess is that there were at least 4 flights of stairs.
I didn't see the cape at absolute low tide, but the time I was there was close enough to leave me with quite an impression. Yesterday, I walked on the ocean floor as the tide was still receding. I was there until 5 PM, when the park closes, and low tide was at 6:32 PM. Low tide this morning was at 6:58 AM, and the water level was at 1 foot. High tide at 12:50 PM was to be at 44.3 feet. I was determined to see the Flowerpot Rocks at close to both extremes, so I headed in to the park a little earlier than the scheduled opening time. I was happy that my car brought an umbrella on this trip; I made good use of it at the beginning of my walk this morning.
Lots of warning signs at the top of the cliffs - definitely not a good idea to stray too close the the edges of the fragile sandstone
How nice of the park to provide foot-washing tools - clean water and a scrub brush - for those of us who just had to walk in the mud!
Mud? Oh yeah, there's plenty of that here!
My feet took me quickly to the Flowerpot area. When I arrived there was still a lot of ocean floor available for walking. I wandered in both directions, taking pictures as usual, and just absorbing the beauty. The sign at the steps leading down said to be back at the stairs by 9:50. I was in that general vicinity at the stated time, but we didn't really need to leave then. There were two park staff members on the ocean floor with those of us who chose to stay as long as possible. They stayed to make sure that everyone could safely get back away from the water, but they didn't hang the "Closed" sign across the bottom of the stairs until around 11. I stayed on the ocean floor until the later time, watching the water level rising and rising some more. It was absolutely amazing to see how fast the water rose. I stood and watched as a path I had just walked down got narrower and narrower and then just disappeared under the water. The big flowerpots that were totally out of the water and connected by the ocean floor quickly changed to be individual but still large rocks surrounded by water. And after a bit more time had passed, the visible portions of those rocks became much, much shorter!
Even though it's gray, gloomy, and somewhat rainy, the beauty of this place just shouts at you. It's another place where a single visit just won't be enough.
This rock is pretty big, and will be totally under water at high tide.
Those yellow rectangles against the rock? They are danger signs strung on chains in an attempt to keep people from wandering into spaces that could possibly have some rock fall.
It's amazing how fast the water swoops in and rises.
When they finally pulled the "Closed" sign out, I went back to the visitor center for a quick snack, and then I headed back to the Flowerpot rocks to continue to watch the water rising. I stood near the bottom of the stairs for a while, watching the lowest stairs disappear into the water.
It's funny, but two sets of people I talked with back at the visitor center commented on my walking into the water. I think I was the only person wandering around in shorts, and my Chaco sandals provided a steady platform for walking on uneven surfaces and left me quite happy to walk into the Bay of Fundy. My first foray into the water was to wash the red Fundy mud off of my feet. The water wasn't as cold as I expected, and once my feet were wet anyway I didn't hesitate to step back into the water - either directly into the bay, or later on the stairs as they disappeared into the water. That "Closed" sign at the bottom of the stairs actually disappeared into the water too...
I'm so glad that I spent the time to see the rocks at both tidal extremes. I've seen pictures before, but seeing those tall rocks become much shorter, and seeing somewhat shorter (but still over my head) rocks disapear was just amazing. One of the rocks is a huge arch that at low tide was very much over my head. In fact, three of me standing with feet on shoulders would still have been shorter than the bottom of that arch. At high tide today - which was very close to the highest tide in this area - just a small opening could be seen. A kayaker did make it under the arch at high tide, but just barely. I could very easily have stayed to watch the tide go out again, but it was time to move on.
The water continues to rise. And no, I'm not the only person staying on the ocean floor!
Maybe the people standing here can give a little perspective on the size of these rocks.
The rock to the left is the same rock shown in the previous picture.
The two photos were taken 18 minutes apart.
And again - these are the same two Flower Pot rocks in the previous picture. A bit of a time lag here, this picture was taken about an hour and 15 minutes later. That's an incredible amount of water!
The tide is definitely coming in... The timings of these pictures? Assigning numbers of 1 through 4 running left to right, picture 1 was taken at 8:21 AM, picture 2 at 8:23, 3 at 8:25, and 4 at 8:33.
An impressive and very fast change of scenery!
The well known Flower Pot rocks, shown here at just before low tide and at high tide.
These photos were actually taken on two different days as it probably evident from the difference in colors between them. The left photo was taken when I arrived at Hopewell Rocks late Saturday afternoon as the tide was nearing low tide. The right photo was taken just before I left the park on Sunday, at very close to high tide.
The fastest way to Maine from Hopewell Cape would have been to head back to Moncton and pick up the highway. Of course today my biking habit of not moving in a straight line seemed to overflow into my driving habits too. Instead of taking the most direct route, I continued down the coast on route 114, changing to route 915 to stay a little closer to the water. Actually the real reason for switching routes was to see the lighthouse on Cape Enrage. After all, how could I miss visiting a place with a name like Enrage? My route also took me through Fundy National Park, which looks like a beautiful place. And of course it also looks like a place where I'd like to spend some time. Another reason to come back here again...
A view of Cape Enrage
And the hills? The back roads that I took were very hilly. The road off of route 915 had some very steep hills with a rather bumpy road surface. And the hills through the national park were pretty serious too, including one that was marked as a 10 percent grade. Noticing the hills in a car is interesting because I've been told by drivers that roads are not hilly when in fact they are. So noticing hills from behind my steering wheel either means I was watching the roads with a cyclist's eye or that it was really really hilly. I tend to think that it was really hilly, and I wonder if the whole province has terrain like this or if I just wandered through the hilliest area.
I hit St. Stephen at 5:30 Atlantic time, 4:30 Eastern time. The people who live there must get pretty annoyed with the traffic waiting to cross into the United States since it stops right on the main road. The backup started 500 meters from the border (yes, there really was a sign noting the distance to the border), and it took 45 minutes of waiting and inching forward to get back into the States. Then I headed south on route 1, passing through dry areas and rain, dry and rain. I decided I had enough driving for the day when I got to Ellsworth, so I found a place to stay and then headed to the grocery store to pick up some food for dinner. I'll head to Bar Harbor and Acadia in the morning. It's not too much further from here, but I really had enough driving for one day!
