NB Road Trip

Forty years is ... a long time. By human standards, that is. It is also the length of time since I graduated from high school. But yep... way back in 1985, I graduated from the main english high school in the small city of Bathurst, New Brunswick.

Locator Map

For readers that aren't familiar with the Canadian Bathurst, it is a small city that sits along the northern coastline of the Canadian province of New Brunswick, on the edge of what Jacques Cartier called the "Baie des Chaleurs" (the Bay of Heat), way back in 1534.

Anyway. Seeing as humans also like to commemorate things on key decimal system boundaries, a tireless fellow grad from Bathurst High School's class of 1985 took it upon herself to organize a 40-year reunion.

I decided to attend. But not just because of the reunion - I also have relatives in New Brunswick, and this event was a nice final push to go for a visit. And so, in this report, you'll read about my July 2025 visit to New Brunswick.... to visit my brothers and their partners, my nephews, and yes, to attend my 40-year high school reunion.

As many of you know, I recently had a momentous time picking up a bit of a passion item over in Germany - a 2023 Porsche Cayman GTS 4.0. After that wonderful European Delivery Experience (which you can read about here), the car arrived back in Canada, ready for road-tripping adventures on excellent twisty roads. Now, New Brunswick is not really a prime destination for twisty roads, but the Cayman hadn't been seeing much road-trippin' action, and I figured I could still have some fun taking it to NB - especially if I took some extra time to explore roads less travelled.

So here's what you can expect from this trip report: an account of a wandering drive out east to my home province, often taking the long way, visiting this or that, popping into my relatives, saying hi to my now-departed parents and generally just an account of getting away for a week. And, of course... lots of gratuitous Carmine Red Porsche Cayman GTS shots. Be ready for those. And if you want to see where along our journey a particular photo was taken, click the map icon that shows up at the top when you zoom in to a picture, and you'll see precisely where along our drive that shot was taken.

We left very early on Friday, July 11. The reunion was the next day, and getting from Ottawa to New Brunswick is a full day's drive. And I wanted extra time to do exploration along the way.

Sitting in the Sports Seat Plus (tm) passenger seat next to me was my sister, Elvira. When the topic of visiting NB for a week came up during one of our montly family zoom meetings, she expressed interest in coming along. She even suggested that it might be nice to take the Porsche (which further cemented that idea in my mind). Always nice to see some sportscar enthusiasm.

Right off the bat, I chose the long way. Unlike most of my drives back home, this time I wanted to actually create some sort of visual accounting of the trip, and to start off, I decided to take a few departure pictures. Now, where in Ottawa can I take departure pictures? After all, it is Canada's capital, and it should be something representative and iconic. But also, I didn't want to look weird parking a shiny Porsche in the middle of city streets at 4:30 a.m., lest I draw the attention of curious law enforcement officials. The best I could come up after a short bit of thinking with was a quick stop in the driveway of the Canadian Museum of History. There's a curved driveway, away from public streets, and it has a nice background view of Canada's Parliament. As a bonus, the organic architecture of the museum itself, designed by architect Douglas Cardinal, aligned well with the classic flowing curves of the Cayman.

With the "departure" shots out of the way, we started east. I decided to stay off the main divided 417 highway and instead follow as close as we could to the shoreline of the Ottawa River. Much slower, but also a closer-to-countryside kind of drive.

The road was pleasant enough, albeit perhaps a bit too slow with all of the little towns along the way, most of which had very slow speed limits. We did get some nice spots where the road was right along the edge of the Ottawa river. Not particularly that twisty of a route either - a few mild curves at best. On the plus side, trundling through at 6am meant everything was peaceful and quiet.

Given that this was a Canadian road-trip, and given that I wanted to capture images of Canadian road-trip travel, I decided that it was important to capture a few Timmy shots - as in, stops at Tim Horton's coffee shops. These shops are plentiful in Canada, offer a standard experience where you know what you are going to get, and to be frank, I thought they would make a good background for more Cayman shots.

We soon stopped at a Timmy's just outside of Hawkesbury, Ontario, where I got some coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and yes, a nice shot of the Carmine Red Cayman GTS 4.0.

At Hawkesbury we crossed over an interprovincial bridge to the province of Quebec. I'd decided that we'd skirt the Montreal metropolitan area on its nothern side. This was an unconventional choice for the drive to Atlantic Canada, but I'd done all of the variations of through-Montreal and south-of-Montreal countless times before. As I said above, today was about taking the road less travelled.

Taking a north-of-Montreal route requires more attention. It isn't simply a matter of plopping oneself on a major autoroute and putting the cruise control on. Once past the airport of Mirabel, I stuck mostly to Quebec regional highways, sometimes having to route around roadworks. It wasn't fast going; often we'd drive through the center of various nondescript towns. But other times, there were pleasant bits - a stretch of highway that clearly followed the path of an old homestead road, hugging a little creek or brook, undulating up and down and around with the land. The Cayman was the perfect companion for this sort of thing, easily and sure-footedly tracking every undulation, loping along casually in its higher gears. Its small size made it emininently positionable.

Well east of Montreal, we angled closer and closer to the banks of the mighty Saint-Lawrence River. When we hit Autoroute-40 - the major divided highway leading east on the north side of the river, I was torn. The A-40 would obviously enable rapid eastward progress, but it was.... well, boring. A compromise, then: drive along the A-40 for a while and then get off at a few points which I had deemed looked interesting (in my research before embarking).

The next couple of hours was a back-and-forth, exploring shoreline roads and communities on the north shore of the Saint Lawrence River. I had never been on many of the roads we drove on. There was a nice stretch of creek-following road west of Trois-Rivieres that was quite scenic and in places, genuinely curvy - and with good pavement to boot. I got out to take a picture of a scenic curve and was soon queried by a suspicious home-owner. "just taking a picture, sir", and we were off. I guess Porsche-driving photo-snapping tourists are uncommon in this neck of the woods.

You know how tourist beaureaus will come up with scenic or historic routes for their areas, in the hopes of driving up visitation? "Route of the Pioneers".... "Ancient Waterways".... "The Sunrise Trail".... Well, it seemed that Tourism Quebec had come up with something similar. I had started to notice these blue signs every so often. They were blue, and simply said "Chemin du Roy" (road of the Kings), and they generally marked points where you could get off the main highway and follow a little side road. It became clear that these were little diversions that would always merge back with the main highway.

After a while, the thought dawned on me that there were probably interesting things along these side routes - historical points, interesting old structures, maybe even a nice curve or two. It was still early morning, and we were still well positioned for an arrival in Quebec City for a nice lunch in the historic downtown (I had not told my sister about this idea, preferring instead to surprise her).

So, upon seeing the next sign, in the little community of Cap Santé, we decided to take it - and were immediately plunged into a tiny, leafy tunnel of a street, lined with historic houses. A plaque on the side of the street said that the Globe and Mail had awarded this street as one of the most beautiful in Canada. Well, whoa! This certainly sounded promising.

Idling along at barely more than a walking pace, we made our way along the narrow, tree-lined street - the vieux chemin, as it was called. On either side was example after example of old, original structures. Tin-roofed, gable windowed, front-porched, wood-shingled houses. Many with historical plaques explaining their history and age (most of the houses were well over 100 years old). One old house (now an Art Gallery) at the start of our drive, was built in 1714, making it the oldest house in the community, at over 300 years old. That's pretty amazing for a house in Canada.

In adidtion to the old houses, the gardening and foliage and trees along the street were immaculate and perfect. Bushes perfectly tended; trees lush and free of broken branches, and nicely over-hanging the street. Any grass was perfectly trimmed and kept. Flowers everywhere. Maybe it really was one of the prettiest streets in Canada.

At the beautiful and monumental-looking Holy-family church, we decided to take a little side road down to the river's edge. The community sits on a fairly high forested bluff above the river, and the road down (which turns out, led to the town wharf) was exceedingly steep and narrow. The Cayman's tidy proportions let us easily navigate the descent, despite the car's low ground-clearance. Soon we were at the open wharf, which jutted out a small way into the mighty Saint Lawrence River. A perfect place to stop and get a bit of fresh air and (of course) a nice Cayman-against-scenery picture.

Our visit to Cap Santé had been a wonderful little diversion. It was now time to keep heading east, especially since I wanted us to arrive in Quebec City for lunch. Fortunately, we were only about 50 kilometres west of the city at this point, and returning to highway 138 (the regional highway that runs along the north shore of the river), it was a short drive into the city. We even had the opportunity to sample more signed bits of the "Chemin du Roy", although none were as nice as that bit through Cap Santé.

Quebec City is a fairly major center, and also a major tourist destination. I wanted to ensure we were efficient in our visit and that we wouldn't waste time trying to find out where to go, where to park, etc. To that end I had done a bit of research in advance and had located a big underground pay car-park located underneath city hall, deep in the heart of the old city. This was perfect and would allow us to quickly walk to a nice cafe in the old city center within a few minutes of parking.

Our plan worked out perfectly. Traffic into the downtown was heavy, but not overly so, and soon, we were descending into the darkness underneath city hall, where I found a nice safe end spot for the Cayman, right next to a pillar. I was far enough away from the spot adjacent to me that the owner would have to literally rip their door from its hinges and bash my car with it, in order to do any damage.

With the parking out of the way, we walked up to ground level and emerged into the wonderful environs of old Quebec City. It was a perfect day - warm, not too humid, sunny. It was a weekday, so the pedestrian traffic was a mix of downtown workers and tourists. Some sort of yoga session was being held in the little park next to City Hall. Old-world European charm emanated from the streets and buildings.

We were flash visitors to Old Quebec. Here for a quick bite, and then we'd be off. To that end, we didn't have anything fancy in mind, and we didn't want to take too much time having our lunch. We decided to simply wander around the beautiful old streets and pick whatever lunch spot happened to catch our interest.

There's so much choice here - it didn't take long. Within ten minutes of setting out from the parking garage, we noticed a suitably authentic-looking place - the Cafe Buade. A Cafe sounded great to us because we felt it would mean quicker service (rather than a more formal restaurant).

We were not disappointed. The cafe was fairly full, but not so much that we had to wait to sit. And the food (a burger and fries for me, a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup for my sister) were a cut above regular diner fare. The burger was especially thick and juicy, and my sister reported that the tomato soup had a superior texture and quality. Our waiter also informed us that our cafe was rather special, it being the currently oldest currently-operating restaurant in Quebec city, having opened in 1905 and now had been serving for 120 years. That's not to say, of course, that older restaurants hadn't existed in Quebec City; after all, the city dates back to 1608.

Lunch was over quickly, in less than an hour, and it was time to head back to the car and resume our journey towards New Brunswick. We took a slightly different walking route back to the parking lot, wanting to pass by a bit more of Old Quebec's charm. In an interesting little twist of coincidence, we walked by a restaurant named "Alphonse". One of our brothers is named Alphonse, and it was to his place in Bathurst that we were currently aiming to reach this night. Definitely necessitated a picture.

The Cayman emerged back into the bright sunlight of a Quebec afternoon. The first order of business was to get out of city traffic and across the Saint Lawrence River to the south shore, where we would continue our journey east (to stay on the north side of the Saint Lawrence beyond Quebec City would entail a very long ferry crossing at some point - the river widens dramatically downstream of here). A ferry was still in the realm of possibility, as my GPS was showing that one was available that led directly across the river to the south-shore city of Levis. This was an exciting prospect - a short car-ferry that would offer undoubtably-excellent views back to downtown Quebec City.

I got confused as we approached the departure point for the ferry. We were in the thick of some stop-and-go traffic, and I misinterpreted the ferry signs, thinking that this was a ferry that only took pedestrians. I was wrong, of course, but in the moment, that is what I thought, and I decided to stay on the parkway and head back west to the main bridge across the river. Shame. It would have been a shorter option and infinitely more scenic and interesting.

Once across the bridge and on the south side of the Saint-Lawrence, we got on Autoroute-20, the province's main east-west artery. I have been on Autoroute-20 countless times in my life, driving back and forth between my family and original home in Atlantic Canada and Ottawa, where I had started my work career, decades ago. I was therefore quite tired of Autoroute 20. However, it was time to make some time, so to speak, so I endured it for a few hours.

When taking the fastest way into New Brunswick from Quebec, one would normally branch off at Rivieres-du-Loup and take the A85 / 185 south to Edmunston, NB. It's the shortest route, it's the fastest route. But I wanted a bit more "road-less-travelled" on this drive, and so I successfully petitioned my sister Elvira (thank you, Elvira) into taking the longer but more scenic and less-travelled "Matapedia Valley" route. It follows the Saint-Lawrence river further downstream, then crosses the Gaspe Peninsula to a point along New Brunswick's northern shoreline, near the town of Campbellton. And in doing so, it follows the bottom of a fairly steep-sided and scenic valley - the Matapedia Valley. I hadn't done this route in years.

The drive up the A-20 further up the Gaspe Peninsula wasn't super interesting in itself. As we neared the point where we would turn off and dive down across the peninsula towards New Brunswick, I consulted my trusty in-dash google map display (which, by the way, was very high resolution with the assistance of a new Wireless Android Auto adapter I had recently purchased). I've discovered that I can research potentially interesting backroads offline, save the waypoints, and have them render on my google maps display in the car. I can then quickly navigate to them and see if there's a hidden gem of a road.

There were several possibilities in this area, but some were not feasible due to construction closures. There was one that remained, however, a small road called Chemin Kempt. It appeared paved (although one can never be sure) and it was a time-equivalent alternative to the main route down to the Matapedia Valley. So, nothing to lose... let's check it out!

Chemin Kempt turned out to be pretty delightful. The road surface, while mostly devoid of painted lines, was nicely paved: smooth, without patches or bumps or cracks. And of reasonable width. The engineers who had worked on this road had employed absolutely no cut-and-fill, meaning it followed the nape of the ground perfectly. And the terrain around here consisted of small but steep little ridges. The road cut across them, doing these really large down and ups, along with some moderately curvy side-to-side motions. And unlike the busy main highway, there was no one else on it. A really different sort of twisty - one with a large vertical component. Very fun. An excellent alternative.

Soon Chemin Kempt merged back with the main highway, and we continued in a more mundane fashion southward, through the interior towns of Amqui and Causapscal. Where possible, I would take whatever little paved side road existed, so long as it didn't much affect our distance or time. It was really nice, experiencing little stretches of quiet countryside driving interspersed with the busier, higher-speed main highway.

The evening was starting to draw on as we entered the "gorge" portion of the Matapedia Valley drive. Here, the highway closely follows the Matapedia River. The River here has carved its way across a low point in the Appalachian Mountain range (which forms the backbone of the Gaspe Peninsula), with steeply-sloping and occasionally rocky slopes on either side. There's not much place for habitation along this stretch, so the sense is one of quietness and undisturbed scenery. Several parties could be seen fishing from anchored canoes along the shallow, rippling waters of the river. The highway itself is pleasantly-curving, but nothing tight or technical.

We reached the end of the Matapedia valley just before sunset. Here, the Matapedia River empties into the larger Restigouche River. The Restigouch forms the boundary here between Quebec and New Brunswick, and there's a bridge which spans across to the NB side. There was a particularly-nice view down the Restigouche towards a departing rain shower, the distant gentle mountains lit in last rays of the sun.

We were now in New Brunswick. In the fading light, I had time for one more interesting-looking road to explore before the light went away entirely. Fortunately it was very close to where we were, and in a few minutes (after a short gas fillup), we were driving up it. The road goes up a narrow cleft in the landscape called Val D'Amour. The road was excellently paved. And the twisties... well, they were legitimately good. Very good. Quite tight, well-banked, and with pretty good sightlines. I faintly recalled being on this road decades and decades ago, back when I used to shuttle vehicles for my father's Honda dealership, but back then, the road surface was not nearly this good, and it had faded from my memory.

With the widened and upgraded road bed, this road was now excellent. Especially for the province of New Brunswick, which doesn't have a ton of truly twisty roads. In fact, I'm fairly confident saying that this might currently be the tightest bit of twisty road that I know of in N.B.

A slow-moving CR-V put an end to the spirited driving about halfway along the really good stuff. No matter, as the part that we sampled had already been worth it. I will have to make a point to try and run the whole stretch of twisties here (probably about 5km worth) on some future visit.

Dusk had fully settled upon us after finishing the Val D'Amour twisty. It was now time to simply chart the fastest, most expedient route to my hometown of Bathurst, which was now only about an hour away. All of our side excursions and stops had turned our drive into quite a long day, and at this point we were looking forward to finishing our drive.

We arrived at my brother Alphonse's house at about 10:30pm. My brother Alphonse and sister-in-law Dolores have a very late to-bed time, so they were not at all perturbed by our arrival time.