New Brunswick--Grand Falls

My last night in Quebec Province was at the Walmart in Riviere du Loup, a lovely little town on the St Lawrence River.  

 

Early in the morning I drove to the river and found a good spot to park and fix breakfast.  The weather was not the best but the view was so perfect I didn't drive away until after noon.

 Walmarts throughout Canada have been welcoming, quiet and trouble free.  There are always at least a dozen RVs parked for the night so I have felt safe.   

My solar panel has worked like a champ, even though there have been a number of overcast days.  The panel powers my lights, runs an overhead fan on warm nights, and charges all of my electronics.  It even ran my crockpot for about 5 hours one day and still the batteries registered as fully charged.

 This little waterfall was in the very heart of one small town. 

I would be following the St. John River across New Brunswick Province and for part of the trip I would be able to look across the river and see Maine on the opposite side. 

I was beginning to see road signs in two languages again--very French Canada was now giving way to the English, Irish and Scotts.  

 

Grand Falls was my next stop.  The Information lady when I crossed into New Brunswick assured me this had to be on my list of 'Must Sees'.  Well the gorge is rather impressive, and once again it is right downtown, but there was no falls.  

From their brochure:

A Changing Waterfall

During the spring freshet six million liters of water, 9/10s the volume of Niagara Falls, cascades over the falls every second.  A few months later, virtually all the water is diverted to the power plant.

Maybe, if they put up a few solar panels there would be enough water left over to give a tiny waterfall.

So I took a picture of a picture.

Because I never think we give enough notice to heroines in history, I wanted to share this one.  This welcoming lady is Malabeam and she was a heroine that saved her tribe from certain destruction...

It was in the spring and the Maliseet Indians had assembled to feast and celebrate the corn harvest.  In the midst of their jubilation a terrified and exhausted girl stumbled into the clearing.  It was Malabeam, the wife of one of the hunters.  She told the story of having been captured by the advance scouts of a Mohawk war party on the River; her husband had been slain; and her life spared only on condition that she guide the enemy to the Maliseet village where they were celebrating.  The Mohawks boasted and declared that they would wipe out every Maliseet on the river and they forced her into one of their canoes and set off.

As darkness fell, the flotilla of canoes carrying several hundred warriors and their unhappy prisoner glided easily down the river, and most of the Mohawks soon sank into slumber.  As they approached Grand Falls, the great roaring of the water and the quickening current alarmed the steersmen, but Malabeam reassured them.  She explained that it was only a waterfall on another river that here discharged into the St. John.

Biding her time and gauging the distance carefully, she flung herself into the water and at the last possible moment struggled to the bank. The sleeping warriors awoke in a panic with the roar of the cataract in their ears.  Caught in the rushing and unfamiliar waters, they strove to turn their canoes toward the darkened shore, but all efforts were useless.  The great river seized them in its foaming embrace and hurled them over the falls onto the rocks below.  If there were any survivors, they were never heard of again.  Malabeam returned to her village and became the heroine of her people.  Her story has been retold for generations of her ordeal and how she saved her people.

At Grand Falls we see the highest falls in eastern North America after Montmorency Falls in Quebec and Niagara Falls on the Canada-U.S. border.  (Just use your imagination.)