The Rocks Beneath

“Adventure is worthwhile in itself” (Amelia Earhart)

Excerpt from: The Rocks Beneath

We toured the area in our mechanized transporter. Little did I know what eldritch horrors my travelling companion and I were getting into. The sun beat down with unexpected ferocity, glaring off the sides of dilapidated fishing houses and decaying barns. The primordial earth had heaved during the bitter winter, leaving the roads crumbled and archaic. They had long since left any semblance of cultured civilization and had entered a realm of the province populated only by closed ice cream stands and abandoned RV Parks. I don’t know what fevered dream concocted this adventure, only that nature herself opposed it, shutting down the roads with icy winds and blowing gales of snow the day previous, causing us to reschedule our trip. Once we arrived at Scots Bay, the waves were crashing in on the shore like gnashing teeth waiting to devour our treasure seeking hides. We got out of the car and a strange figure approached us, looking like a woman in plain clothing, she waived and said: ‘Hi!’… Oh what Eldritch Horror I dare not speak of!

   Rockhounding is something that seems new and trendy but apparently is a hobby quite old and storied. Although it may not always have been called such, it is the sport of going to beaches, parks and hillside areas attempting to locate semi-precious stones such as Agates, Amethyst, Jasper and other such materials depending on location. While I don’t really follow the hobby, my excellent friend Geoff is quite heavily invested into the business.

   Geoff has been learning the ins and outs of the gem craft, although focusing on the processing part.  He has possession of the extensive equipment needed for all this, from rock tumblers to this big blade that cuts the gems open and several other tools I don’t really understand but figure are also important. This has been a many year journey for Geoff, and he has recently undertaken interest in the gathering end of rockhounding. While we did stop at a Gem Digging site during our cross-Canada roadtrip, I figured it was more of the novelty and less for the serious collection of stones. The trip taken last week was much different.

   Ease of access to rockhounding sites would not have been one of the perks I would attribute to living in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It has a lovely climate when it’s not alternatively trying to freeze, drown or scorch you out. For a medium sized city it has plenty of greenspace not to mention heritage properties and sites to go visit. If you live and work in the core then you’re never really far from anything. One thing I did not realize was that Nova Scotia is apparently host to some of the most abundant rockhounding areas in Canada. I figured it would be a fun way to spend a morning before work by heading up to one of the beaches and taking a look around.

   Our destination was Scots Bay, a long wind swept beach north of Kentville near the Blomidon Provincial Park. Scots Bay is on the side of the hook of land known as ‘Cape Split’ which is certainly what the land seemed to be doing to the water up in that area. The area sweeps in from Nova Scotia to make a big split in the Bay of Fundy. The area is not only rich in gemstones but also heritage.

There was a lot of snow from the day before, although I imagine it may always look like this

  The Blomidon Peninsula is a basalt ridge (Although not inhabited by Flying Polyps to the best of my knowledge, HPL fans!) that was created during the Jurassic period where primal Nova Scotia (then part of a larger landmass and in no way distinguishable to the modern day province) had active volcanoes. As the lava solidified and compressed it became Basalt and makes up the majority of the landscape in Cape Blomidon. It is due to this Basalt geography that semi-precious stones can be found.

   By the time people came around to settle Nova Scotia (first Native, then European Settlers) the area quickly developed in a community focused on fishing. With easy access to the Bay of Fundy it’s not surprising that small fishing communities existed around the Blomidon area.  Small farms also make up a patchwork quality of the land, as farmers also exploit forest surrounding their properties. When the industrial revolution came to Canada, the area already had several tidal powered grist mills that processed the surrounding lands wheat into flour.

   Today, from what I saw the Blomidon Peninsula area is largely a suburb of Kentville and Wolfville. There were lots of houses but little industry, although there are still plenty of farms up there. We saw an old fishing pier on Scots Bay, but little other evidence that fishing still thrives along that coast.

   Our first attempt on Monday was foiled by bad weather. Although we got as far as Mount Uniacke the blizzard conditions got so bad that we couldn’t see further than maybe a dozen meters ahead of the car. Discouraged, but not defeated, we retired for the rest of the day to play Halo 4 until I had to go to work.

   Tuesday had much better weather and road conditions. While we had a later start we were able to make excellent time after I convinced Geoff that the 102 was a better option than the Bedford Highway (we had taken the latter on Monday since that’s what google said to do). After about an hour of driving we were already in Kentville, the last major settlement before getting to the beach.

Next stop? Adventure! Well, first gas, but then ADVENTURE!

   We met with Rob of Robsrocksshop.com who runs a store featuring his finds from a lifetime of rockhounding out of his house. I’m not sure what time rockhounders start their days but he seemed to be bemused by our general arrival of around 10am. He showed us all sort of stuff he had collected from Scots bay a few days back, and gave us a tour of his store/working area. The outside of his shop was less than inviting, however.

This can't possibly end badly

   He was full of great tips on how to find these semi-precious stones hiding among rocks. My favourite was to ‘walk like you’re standing’ since you’re looking for a single rock among hundreds. Even though the Blomidon Bay area has an abundance of these stones, it still means that you’re looking for 1/100 rather than 1/10000. If you’re just strolling down the way like you’re going for a walk, there is a strong possibility you are going to miss one.

This is where the murder door lead in reality

   Rob himself seems to have a knack of turning the semi-precious stones into something other than jewellery. He had shelves of attractive paperweights and penholders and what turned out to be candleholders.

For the person who needs something to hold their pens AND bludgeon their enemies with

   He also had quite a few pendants and other jewelery hanging around his crowded shop. It seemed that he also uses his space as the primary storage facility. This makes sense when your livelihood involves finding, processing and selling semi-precious gems, but also makes for a crowded working environment. 

Something tells me he's not hanging them there to dry

   Traveling from Kentville to Scots Bay required switchbacking along several secondary highways. As we got further up out of the valley, the wind was starting to pick up. By the time we got there the wind was whipping everything into frenzy. There was a little bridge that crossed a stream that would have been difficult to ford without giant waders to get us across. Rob had mentioned that it was possible to cross at a shallower section down the beach with use of garbage bags. 

Fortunately there were no trolls under that bridge

   Once we got on the beach proper, Geoff was down to business. I was able to focus on collecting gems for the first 30 seconds or so, and then the crashing waves got my attention. Before anyone gets the idea that I have some undiagnosed ADD, it’s just that I was more of an observer on this trip. The concept of gemstones lying in the beach intrigued me, but the process of getting to the beach, meeting Rob and being at the beach was more enticing. With the size of the waves crashing down at the sandbar where the tide and pulled out to, I had to investigate.

Nova Scotia could probably win an award for blandest beaches

   While I would never wade out into the water itself in the middle of winter when the waves promised to sweep any wayward explorer away, the tide was low so it was out quite a ways. I was able to get a good couple of hundred metres away from the high tide line. I was well rewarded, because among the sulking seagulls there was a Mighty Eagle! It was just hanging around, and any reader from my travel blog knows that I can’t resist taking pictures of rare-ish animals in the wild.

Buy now for only 99 cents to solve all pig related issues!

   After satisfying my need to walk almost to the waves (the tide was out, but there was about 3-6 inches of water for another hundred meters or so before you got to the part of the beach where waves were crashing) I returned to see how Geoff was doing. At this point, he had collected what seemed like all the rocks on the beach and was still going for more.

They say a picture speaks 1000 words, but it doesn't do anything for sounds

   We forded the stream where it was shallower, but I still managed to get my boots full of water. Fortunately I had ultimate wool socks so my feet kept warm regardless. I have to say, buying specialty hiking wool socks that retain warmth while wet and quickly dry out are indispensable when going on any wilderness trek, even if you make most of your trekking by car. In my experience, you never know when you’re going to fall into a body of water.

Featured: Why there is a bridge at Scots Bay

   Once across Geoff continued looking for gemstones while I went to work erecting a monument to our great journey to Scots Bay. Again, anyone familiar with my travelling will know when I travel to a wild nature area, I must create some sort of marking that will reasonably weather the elements but will also have a small environmental footprint. I don’t want to gouge my initials into a tree, but I will lean a large piece of driftwood onto another one to make a flagless flagpole of sorts.

I don't think they let you link to the same Canada Heritage Minute video twice under the same blog handle

   That accomplished, we moved down to barnacle rock, named so for its abundance of the sea creature attached to it. It could easily have been named clam murder cove, as close by there were numerous dead clam shells. What was curious was that they weren’t broken as if birds had dashed their bodies against rocks, it looks like there was a coordinated effort for the clams to surface and then all die from exposure. Perhaps it was the Jonestown cult of clams in our very own Scots Bay, NS.

What kind of nefarious poison could clams get into?

   Without knowing when the tide would come back in, we crossed back over the stream to ensure we weren’t cut off. It was then we realized how little time we had left. Geoff quickly scoured the immediate area for more gems before we called it a morning. He found an amazing rock that looked like a turtle, but it was too large to take back, and I tossed it back to the rocks before realizing what an amazing picture it would have made. For everyone else, you'll simply have to know it as Mystery Rock X, soon to hit your local comic book stores as a concept issue. 

   We got back to the car and headed home. On the way back we were able to stop at an aptly named ‘lookout’ that was positioned right as the ridge crested the Annapolis Valley. From where we were able to take impressive pictures of the local valley area and you can really tell what the majority of people get their livelihoods around here.

That's right, outbound sales marketing!

   This would not be the last time we would venture up this way. Geoff and I already have a trip planned to Amethyst Cove on the other side of Cape Split later in the spring when the weather is cleared up. That promises to be much more exciting and possibly involve more adventurers. For now, we simply cruised back to Halifax where I had to return to work, and Geoff linked as our guest for an extra day or two.

You could smell the apple orchards, if it was the right season... and you had super enabled smelling

Another excerpt from: The Rocks Beneath

it was then we knew why the area of Cape Split was so neglected. There rested a horror so terrifying that no one could withstand its omnipresent pressure for long. It inhabited the very atmosphere of the basalt ridges; it persuaded even clams to give themselves up to it. However, something had been awoken in my traveling companion, and somehow I knew this would not be the last time we headed up the lonely highway 358, I can only hope that our sanities will be spared…