Newfoundland's Elemental Winter

Gros Morne National Park as you've never seen it before

The Tablelands are one of the strangest sights in Gros Morne National Park: a broad plateau of ancient mantle rock pushed to the surface by the continental collisions that once shaped this coast.

Instead of the thick spruce and sheltered coves that mark much of western Newfoundland, this corner of the park opens suddenly into a bare, rust-coloured expanse where almost nothing grows. The rock is high in iron and magnesium, and so unlike typical Newfoundland terrain that it feels as though you’ve stepped into another world.

In winter, that otherworldliness deepens. With no tree cover and little vegetation to catch the wind, the landscape stays raw and unfiltered. This is a place shaped more by geology and weather than by anything living.

I arrived in Newfoundland in February, landing directly from Toronto at the Deer Lake Regional Airport and continuing by shuttle to Norris Point. The Gros Morne Inn, my base for the trip, sits above scenic Bonne Bay — a fjord on the western side of the province at the entrance to Gros Morne National Park. Almost immediately upon check-in, I get a sense of what the coming days have in store: every room overlooks the bay, with Gros Morne Mountain rising in the distance.

In winter, the view is striking. Ice forms in the bay, and the ridgelines and treetops collect snow in thick layers. It looks almost unreal at first glance, like walking into the pages of a magical storybook.

Tour Gros Morne runs year-round packages that include culinary, cultural, and hiking tours. In winter, the focus shifts to cold-season travel: three- or five-day stays built around snowshoeing, snowmobiling, downhill skiing at Marble Mountain, and simple hikes or walks depending on conditions.

There’s no rigid schedule. Activities adjust daily based on weather, daylight, and group comfort levels. For some travellers, this is their first real experience with winter travel — first time on snowshoes, first time on a snowmobile, first time spending hours outdoors in sub-zero temperatures. The small group size makes that easier. You learn together, and there’s no pressure to know what you’re doing before you arrive.

One of the outings begins right from the inn: a snowshoe trail that leads through the woods toward the backside of the Tablelands. Standing on top of exposed mantle rock — one of the very few places on Earth where that’s possible — while the wind pushes snow across the surface is unlike anything I’ve experienced. In the heart of winter, it often feels as though we have the entire national park to ourselves.

On the way back, we stop in a small clearing for an outdoor meal prepared over the fire.

Today, there’s a Labrador tent set up here for winter cooking, warmed by a stove, but during my visit we ate under the open sky. The meal featured local seafood and winter vegetables, but I'm told that the plan is to showcase local wild game as well. Eating it in that setting — cold air, snow underfoot, the Tablelands rising beyond the trees — made the connection to the land unmistakable.

Back at the inn, the common areas are practical and welcoming: large windows facing Bonne Bay, a fireplace that stays on through the winter months, and enough space for guests to read, talk, or sort out gear without feeling crowded. The atmosphere is unhurried, and with fewer visitors in winter, the building stays quiet throughout the day.

The inn holds Sustainable Tourism Gold certification, and its operations reflect that. Waste is composted, single-use plastics have been eliminated, and the property uses a combination of renewable energy systems and high-efficiency heating. The restaurant follows the same approach. Seafood is sourced through the Ocean Wise program, and menus shift with what’s available locally, from fish and shellfish to winter vegetables and regional game.

Coming here in winter feels like discovering a hidden part of Gros Morne National Park. There are fewer crowds, quieter trails, and an unfiltered exposure to the elements. Under snow, the Tablelands maintain their energy and provide those willing to venture outside the box with an unforgettable, singular experience.