I recently drove back east to visit my relatives over the Easter Holiday. I hadn't really intended to make a web writeup of the occasion, but soon after arriving, I decided that there was a story here that I wanted to record.
I had heard that the eastern provinces of Canada - and indeed much of the northeastern seaboard of the US - had received large amounts of snow this year - snowstorm after snowstorm after snowstorm. So, even though it was now spring melt season (April), I was curious to see how much snow I'd encounter during my visit.
Where I live in the province of Ontario, we'd had a cold but not all that snowy winter. So, the ground was mostly bare as we started our drive east to the Maritime provinces. Our first stop was at my brother Carl's place in Fredericton, NB. By the time we crossed the border into New Brunswick, there was definitely more snow on the ground, and by the time we arrived in my brother's driveway, there was an impressive three to four feet of snowpack in his yard. My brother was quick to note that this was several feet reduced from just a few weeks before. Impressive, yes, but not quite enough for me to feel energetic enough to get my camera out.
After a most enjoyable visit, we moved on. We had originally thought of visiting one of the province's National Parks, but a fairly nasty weather forecast made that unappealing. The forecast called for rain in the southern regions, and a not-insubstantial amount of snow in the north, along with very high winds. It looked like - even though we were well into April - we were going to get a taste of what the eastern part of the continent had been experiencing for a couple of months. Could be fun, in a tortuous sort of way.
French River Road
Instead of visiting a park, we decided to visit a friend - to be specific, a friend who is the mother of another friend - Bob. His mother - Maria - lives in a rural community on the north shore of the province of Prince Edward Island. We figured we could fit in a short visit with her before continuing on to our final destination of northern New Brunswick, where my mother lives.
The weather system moved in as we began our drive to PEI. Apart from being dreary and rainy, the drive was straightforward - from Fredericton, along the Trans-Canada highway to Moncton, and then on to the 13km (8mi) bridge that links NB to PEI. Once on PEI, quaint farm roads led us across the island to the north shore, where Bob's mother Maria lives.
PEI was one of the especially hard-hit areas of this year's winter weather. This was quite apparent as we drove across the island. The snowbanks here were consistently bigger than they had been in southern NB, and as we drove to the northern shore, they were incredibly high - often completely blocking one's view of the landscape. By the time we arrived at Maria's house, there were certain stretches of road - the one running by Maria's house being one of them - that were a veritable snow-canyon.
Never having seen such accumulations in eastern Canada before, this was sufficient motivation for me to start taking pictures (and that is why this report now exists).
Near Maria's place
Maria was happy to have us over for afternoon tea and coffee (in fact, we had nearly cancelled our visit to her due to the inclement weather forecast), and we spent a delightful hour over tasty muffins and bread and getting the lowdown on the unusual winter. Maria stated that much of the snow had already melted, which was an incredible statement. It was incredible because looking outside, we could see that only a small corner of the roof of her shed was visible under the snow - and the top of the shed is a good ten feet off of the ground.
Wanting to get a closer look at things, we (myself, Jenn and my brother George) decided to get out our snowshoes and make a short trek north to the coastline. It would be a good way to get the blood flowing after all of the driving, and to see this snow up close.
After symbolically snowshoeing onto the top of Maria's shed (usually you can't snowshoe to the top of buildings), we continued over her backyard hedge, heading for the nearby coastline, perhaps 500 metres (yards) away.
Roof climbing never easier
As we walked north towards the coast, the snowpack gradually thinned until we were hiking on bare ground. Intense winds onto shore had blown clean the accumulations immediately adjacent to the shoreline. This blown snow had likely contributed to the extra-massive accumulations just a little inland, in areas such as Maria's backyard.
The view from ten feet up
A strong wind - perhaps not yet a gale, but getting there - blew directly into our faces as we approached the coastline. PEI is nearly entirely composed of crumbly red sandstones and claystones, and we needed to be careful (of unstable ground) as we approached the 80-foot high dropoff down into the ocean. A thick layer of pack ice extended out nearly to the horizon. Combined with the grey skies, spitting drizzle and high winds, it was a desolate and raw scene. The strong winds blowing onshore combined with the meltwater running off the cliffs formed very interesting "reverse waterfalls": streams of water blown *up* the cliffs and into the air.
Wild and Windy Gulf of St Lawrence
We returned to Maria's house and made ready to leave. We knew the forecast called for a ramp-up in the storm intensity, and we needed to be sure that we were off of Prince Edward Island before that happened, or else we were liable to get stuck here. The island-to-mainland bridge gets closed when winds get too high, and that was forecast to happen as the day progressed. We thanked Maria for her hospitality and then headed off back towards New Brunswick. But, not before getting a few more pictures of the incredible snow depths.
The edge of the... province
Here's a short two-minute video of our visit to Maria in French River, PEI:
Visiting with Maria on PEI - Click on video above to start
As I mentioned earlier, the storm's precipitation was forecast to be mostly rain in southern regions, but all snow in the north. And we were headed.... north. As we drove past Shediac, NB, the first hints of snow began to mix in with the rain. The highways, which had up to this point been wet but otherwise clear, started to develop a thin veneer of white.
courtesy GLavigne
Blizzard Conditions
Within perhaps twenty more minutes of driving, the rain had transitioned entirely over to snow. And not just a bit of snow - lots of it, being driven nearly sideways by an increasingly strong wind. A car ahead of us on the highway was driving a bit slower than we were, and with the poor visibility and increasingly bad traction, we decided to fall in line and follow them. A car behind us soon did the same, and behind them, and so on. Soon we were a slow-moving convoy, cautiously feeling our way north through blizzard conditions.
Such conditions demand constant driving attention, and, owing to slower speeds, a much longer journey. The normally two-hour drive from Shediac to Bathurst (our destination) took three and a half hours. Fortunately, we were able to complete most of it before darkness fell.
Winter has not left Northern NB
Even though visibility was poor and snow was blowing everywhere, I could still make out (and was amazed to see) that Bathurst had almost as much snow - maybe as much snow - as had PEI. Huge banks everywhere, frequently entirely obscuring our view of a streetside house or building. Combined with the many inches of fresh new snow that had just fallen, and enhanced by the fierce wind whipping everything about, it most certainly did not seem like a spring weekend in April. It felt like the middle of January... the middle of January, somewhere north of the Arctic circle.
