Time for a “Canadian bucket-list” adventure. Drive the Trans-Labrador Highway, an epic road trip that promises “unparalleled wilderness, persistent bloodsucking insects, and moose hell-bent on suicide by automobile.” We cannot wait, but first we must gear up in Quebec.

The Trans- Labrador Highway

We fell in love with the friendly town of Baie-Comeau. Super friendly is a better description, whether you speak French or not, unlike my experience in France. Located on the shores of the St. Lawrence River, it is the perfect place to prepare for the drive.

Soothing, fog-laden morning walks along a bay with extreme tides, interesting growth and yard art, provide exercise and entertainment. Our luxurious digs, close to the one brewery in town that also serves fried Cod bites, spoil us in our final days of luxury.

Harbor Baie-Comeau, Quebec

Massive tides, Baie-Comeau, Quebec

Views from morning walk, Baie-Comeau, Quebec

The Hotel Le-Manoir, Baie-Comeau, Quebec

It is time to go. We pack local foods from the farmer’s market, including things we have never heard of before like groundcherries and haskap berries. A bag of fresh beignets makes those canned, standard survival food staples taste better as we head into the remote.

Farmer’s Market Find: Groundcherrys and Haskaps

The road begins just out of town. “Top off gas here,” Marilynn says. “It’s the last gas station for three hundred miles (482k). It is my impression that we only have 150 miles (241k) to go for gas.

The Adventure Begins!

I stop anyway, but the gas pump has a padlock on it, and they do not open for another half-hour. “Let’s go. There’s gas sooner than that along the way.” She shakes her head, “No, we’re going to be in trouble.” Now, I wonder if she is right.

No Cell service for Miles!

Tension fills the truck cab for three hours, as we roll along the two-lane road that twists through shrubby, tundra-like flats interspersed with wooded mountains. Neither one of us know for sure how long before the next gas station because street signs we saw long ago were in French. Feels like we have been in similar situations before.

The road turns to gravel in spurts, slickened by rain that was supposed to stop hours ago according to our cell phone weather forecast. Oops, no cell phone coverage out here either. Regardless of the gas situation, we have passed the point of no return. Oh yes, we have not seen another vehicle yet either. Trees to the left, trees to the right, no traffic, rolling along on this well-graded gravel road for hours elicit that grand feeling of adventure, despite my dwindling hope about finding a gas station soon.

Where is that gas station?

Voila! One-hundred and forty miles later not only did a gas station pop up, but a roadside Diner as well at a construction supply camp. I was never so happy to pay $2.49 per liter. Thank goodness for the Daniel-Johnson Dam, formerly known as Manic 5. This monstrosity is surely why there are services.

Daniel-Johnson Dam, the largest multiple arch buttress dam in the world

Gassed up, ready to roll with revived enthusiasm, where are the moose? Road signs for moose crossings are all over. Have not even spotted moose droppings, or any other wildlife so far. Until a fox comes walking down the side of the gravel road towards us.

The ONLY moose we saw

I stop the truck, and fox quickens his gait, but does not run into the thick woods. “Get your camera ready.” I start backing up. “You’re going to scare him away,” she says. That is what usually happens. To our disbelief, fox stays on the road now in front of the truck on the driver’s side. I stop and Marilynn gets out of the cab slowly. The fox starts trotting around the back of the truck towards her. “Get back in, now! Right now!” She barely made it back into the cab before who knew what kind of interaction was going to happen. We have never seen a fox act like that. Perhaps it was rabid, or just desperate. Cannot imagine it had been habituated to being fed by humans. No one lives out here.

Marilynn’s friend the Fox

Quite a long drive with not much to see but boreal tundra or thick woods and gravel. We do see more trucks and cars, causing us to wonder what is up. And then, we see it, the road is closed.

What?

Shut down because of a semi-truck crash with explosive cargo that needs hauled out. We sit and wait with big rigs, numerous commercial/working vehicles and one other “Canadian Bucket-Lister” probably as crazy as we are.

Waiting for the Road to Open

“We might as well camp,” Marilynn says as if she read my mind. Off we go down the road, find a small pullout with a magnificent view, and begin the process of building a rock fire-ring. Whoa! Billions of bugs, black flies on steroids! The females are biting, and we have not even unloaded yet. Back to the closure area, where we rejoin our “friends,” who say the road should open in five hours.

Blood-sucking insects chase us from the perfect camp spot

An hour later, a man pulls up and says something in French. Sounds like “phuk it” to us. He takes off around the closure barricade. We all look at each other, and gladly follow along. Joyful to get rolling again, this time following a line of cars and trucks led by a crazy speeding semi who sidewinds around gravel bends.

Two hours later, we finally came upon the wreckage, which we thought must have been cleaned up long ago. A semi from one of the world’s largest and purest iron ore mines, Mont Wright Mine, had crashed into a ditch and we can see piles of explosives that have been removed from the truck.

There WAS a crash

Darkness descends and we are flying over dirt roads, through the dust, following another crazy speeding trucker trying to beat total darkness on this desolate, remote road.

Our view for miles

Flying over dusty roads trying to hit town before dark

We pass the massive Mont Wright Mine, and find ourselves in the mining town of Fermont, Quebec, filled with strapping young men with big trucks.

Mont Wright Mine, Fermont, Quebec

The self-sustaining housing unit known as “The Wall,” was built here to shield against the harsh winds and snow. You would not have to leave the complex all winter if you did not want to. Gyms, dining halls, cafeterias, and I am sure bars, are included.

“The Wall” in Fermont, Quebec

However, there is no room at any of the Inns for us. Even the nasty RV park has a closed gate. It is pitch black, except for the slow rising of a full Super Blue Moon. We sneak the truck under a thicket of trees alongside a lake and bundle-up in the back, as the temperature drops into the low forties (4.4C).

Camping Fermont, Quebec

Drinking beer and wine under the light of a blue moon in one of the coolest camping spots ever, after a wild, crazy, ten-hour-long, exhilarating drive! We are about as happy as we can get.

Blue Moon, Fermont, Quebec

In the morning, we cross the border into Newfoundland Labrador enroute to Labrador City where the roads are paved. Whoopee! Tim Horton’s here we come.

Welcome to the Big Land

Civilization is brief. Outside of the city, we see a car about every hour. Scenic twisting road through mountains and valleys seem more civilized when paved. We welcome an opportunity to get out of this truck for a short hike to Churchill Falls. Feels so good to walk in the woods again.

What’s left of Churchill Falls, Labrador

Next stop, Happy Valley-Goose Bay, where we find an overpriced motel room (because they can) and a pizza next door.

Approaching the end of the road

At the end of tomorrow, we finally reach the sign in Red Bay, Labrador, where Marilynn took a photo seven years ago, before the road was paved. We have come full circle by driving this epic road we started so long ago.

The Road out of Red Bay in 2024

The Road out of Red Bay in 2017

We never did see a moose, but we can attest to the remote wilderness and have bug bites to prove the existence of hungry blood-sucking insects.

Red Bay, Labrador

Looking forward to spending a week here in Red Bay, Labrador. A rugged land we loved so much that we just had to return.

Thank You, Abundant Universe!