PEI 12 - Wet Riding

Day 8
Tuesday, July 26, 2016

We woke up to a dark sky and put rain covers on our panniers, sleeping bags and tent into plastic bags. The rain began just as we were pulling out of the campground.

I don't mind riding in the rain. It's stopping that's the problem. That's when I realize how soggy I am. And just when I start drying out and getting comfortable, it's time to go back out and get wet again. 

But it's hard to pass up a warm, dry cafe, especially if we don't know when we'll come upon the next port in the storm. So after only about ten miles we took our wet selves into the East Point Lighthouse cafe where we lingered over hot tea, hoping for a break in the rain, which didn't come. So we headed out for more fun in the rain. And the riding was fine. Warm enough that we only wore light windbreakers, and every now and then the rain gave us a break.

We rode past fields of potatoes and hay bales stretching out to the sea, and harbors with boats lined up along the docks. 

 Everything about PEI was tidy, even the potato fields.

These potatoes were in bloom.

That yellow dot up ahead is Rob, riding in the rain.
That's a field of potatoes in bloom on the right.

Hay bales and, off to the right, you can see the ocean.

The harbors were also very tidy.

It was all very beautiful, but what we really needed was someplace dry where we could eat our lunch. We passed a sign for the Prince Edward Distillery. I pulled into the driveway. "Maybe we can eat our lunch here," I said to Rob when he pulled in behind me.

No, the sun wasn't shining that day.
This picture is from the website.

They had adirondack chairs outside, but it was raining. The shop inside was small, no place to sit down. But the young woman behind the counter was nice enough to let us hang out while we ate some lunch. It was cold inside and we were wet, so we had a taste of rum.

Also taken from the website,
this is the interior of the shop

Back on our bikes we had smooth, fast, and wet riding on a road with no shoulder, but few cars. I was thinking about our new friends Louise and Dave, hoping they were not overwhelmed by the rain, especially as this was Louise's first major bike tour. We had planned to meet them that night at the next provincial park campground. But here's the thing about bicycling in the rain. I could deal with the rain okay while I'm on my bike, enjoying the misty scenery as I get splashed by passing cars and the wet kicking up at me from my tires, but the anticipation of setting up camp in the rain is enough to start me thinking about a cozy bed and breakfast, hot shower, and sitting down to dinner in a warm restaurant, in dry clothes. 

Rob and I have been through this before, so I knew he wouldn't need any convincing. The challenge was finding a place to stay in this rural wilderness. Prince Edward Island is not Vermont, where you come across a Norman Rockwell town every five or ten miles with three or four hundred-year-old houses sporting bed and breakfast signs on the front lawn. I don't think we had seen a single bed and breakfast, or even a motel, this entire trip. Then again, we weren't looking. But now that we were looking, we still weren't seeing any.

But we did see the Shipwreck Point Cafe and we stopped to strategize our evening plan, get something warm to eat, and dry off just a little so we could get wet again. The fact that my cell phone was useless in Canada presented a bit of a problem, but our server graciously let us borrow hers. I checked our tourist guidebook and found only three possibilities. The first one was full. Next I called the Cable Head Bed & Breakfast in St. Peter's Bay, about ten miles away. The man on the other end told me he had two rooms available and gave a price that seemed reasonable. I told him we were on bicycles and asked about a place to eat. He said there was one just a couple miles away and that the rain was supposed to stop. That got me thinking. Maybe we could camp after all. I told him I'd check with my husband and call back while Rob was motioning wildly across the table from me, mouthing the words, "We'll take it!" But, budget czar that I am, I still wanted to have a conversation about it. I hung up.

"You should have said we'd take it," Rob said. 

"Evidently it's supposed to stop raining. We could camp."

"I don't care. I want to stay in a bed and breakfast tonight."

I couldn't really argue. We'd been on the road over a week, camping every night. I called back. And got the answering machine. I couldn't leave a message; it wasn't my phone. I called again a minute or two later. Still the answering machine. Oh, no. He's giving away our room. At least he said he had two left. Maybe we'll be okay. I called again. Still the answering machine.

I said, "I bet Louise and Dave are taking our room."

Finally we got through. And there was one room left. 

We shared a dish of poutine. French fries, gravy, and melted cheese - there is nothing remotely healthy about this dish.

As we paid the bill, our server asked us who we thought would win the election. I said something like let's hope Trump doesn't win. She said that was the common response, and gave me a little Canadian maple leaf pin.

The Canadians were all interested in the Trump vs. Clinton election. When we talked to one woman in Charlottetown we told her the joke about Canada building a wall to keep us out if Trump won. She told us the Canadians would be happy to have us. It's a thought.

PEI 11 - The Dinner Quest

Day 7
Monday, July 25, 2016 (continued)

When we arrived back in PEI in the early afternoon we lingered in Souris. It’s a small town and, after buying some seaglass earrings at one of several shops selling seaglass jewelry, we had pretty much seen the sights.

Then it was time to get dinner.  We found a good-sized grocery store right on the main street.

We try to have a pretty good idea of what we want before going food shopping. Once inside we discuss each potential purchase. Is it too heavy? Too expensive? Do we have the room for it? Will we be able to eat it before it goes bad? We keep our eyes open for anything unexpected and wonderful.

I wanted carrots but we didn't have room for a 2-lb. or even a 1-lb. bag, which was also too heavy. Then we found carrots in small bunches and they felt firm. Perfect. We picked up a package of wraps for sandwiches, a can of tuna and a couple packs of ramen noodles for dinner backup. In the bakery section Rob wanted to buy one of everything. I said no. Strawberries were $2.98 - fresh and local. Perfect. We replenished our breakfast food with oatmeal and slivered almonds, but had to pass on raisins because they only came packaged in those little boxes.

Then we looked for dinner. We were on a hunt for ravioli. Rob loves ravioli. But it would have to be the fresh kind, just enough for one meal. And without sauce because we can't refrigerate what's left. We could have ravioli with a little olive oil. (We packed a small container of it.) The store didn't have any fresh ravioli. But there was another grocery store down the road. 

When we got to the second store, a man outside said, "They have your ravioli. It's in the case by the produce section." Wait a minute, where did that come from? Rob said he was in the other store and must have heard us asking for it. Rob stayed with the bikes while I went inside. I asked a clerk, “Do you have fresh ravioli?”

She said no but I persisted.  That nice man wouldn’t have steered us wrong. “Where's your fresh spaghetti?”

And I found it, near the produce just like the man said, sundried tomato and cheese ravioli. I bought two packages. 

After setting up camp we relaxed with fresh carrots and tea. Then dinner of ravioli, slices of red pepper (bought last night), and strawberries, every bit as delicious as we'd hoped.

We arrived at Red Point Provincial Park with lots of time to relax.

The view from our dining table. After dinner we went for a walk on the beach. We remembered camping here with our kids the summer of 2009.

PEI 10 - Tim Horton's

Day 7
Monday, July 25, 2016

When I was writing about our ferry ride over to the islands, I mentioned meeting Dave and Louise, bicyclists from British Columbia. Every time our paths crossed over the next couple days - which happened frequently as we were staying at the same campground - Rob and Dave would talk like old friends catching up about their health, life's stresses, the adventures that lay ahead, and anything else that came to mind. Louise and I would join in, but as the talk continued without any sign of coming to a conclusion, we'd leave the men and head to our respective campsites to take care of our tired, hungry, and sweaty selves. 

They were such a lovely couple that it seemed like we should have gotten together for a beer or dinner, but our schedules were completely out of sync. While Rob and I get an early start on the day and put in around 50 miles of riding, Dave and Louise tended to sleep late and start riding in the early afternoon, covering about 50 kilometres. On Saturday we had finished our beer and poutine and were heading out of Havre-Aubert just as they pulled into town. On Sunday we were done with laundry and dinner and heading to the microbrewery just as they were arriving back at the campground from their day's riding.

Our paths crossed later on Sunday night while we watched a fireworks display at the campground and discussed logistics for Monday morning. We were all planning to catch the ferry back to PEI and there was only one departure, at 8 a.m., which meant rising early to get tents and other gear packed up and ride to the ferry terminal by 7 a.m. We're early risers so we'd be fine doing our breakfast routine, but Dave said they'd be heading to the Tim Horton's in town. Tim Horton's appears to be the Canadian version of McDonald's or Wendy's but the way Dave raved about it, when we got up the next morning to swarming mosquitoes, we decided to check it out.

Just having real dishes to eat on made
the food taste great at Tim Horton's.

If we thought that we would enjoy Dave and Louise's company over breakfast, we were wrong. We ordered and were almost done eating before they made an appearance. 

Louise and Dave had the attitude that nothing
could possibly go wrong on this trip.

After boarding the ferry Rob and I settled in for naps, had tea and muffins, then visited with Dave and Louise for the remaining hours of the crossing, talking about life in our respective parts of the world and getting to know more about one another. Dave, a retired biology teacher, was studying to be a minister. Louise still worked as a nurse. While Dave had been on an extended bicycle tour before, this was Louise's first. They were out for about five weeks, heading to Nova Scotia after exploring parts of PEI. We talked a lot about the differences between Canada and the United States, how Canada welcomed immigrants, seeing the value in what they brought to the country as workers. 

Once the ferry landed, we went our separate ways. They were off for their 50 kilometers, while we had plans to relax, heading just up the road about ten miles to an ocean-side provincial park. But the math worked out for our paths to cross again the following night. The next day, with our 50 miles and their 50 kilometers we could look forward to meeting again at another campground. 

None of us anticipated the rain that would wash out any desire to set up camp the following night.

PEI 9 - Color in a Treeless Landscape

Day 6
Sunday, July 24, 2016

Sunday began with breakfast overlooking the ocean. No roaring surf, just the quiet lapping of the water.

Rather than ride hard just to say we'd been to all the islands, we decided to meander around the islands close by, exploring the backroads, harbors, beaches, and any other tourist delights that we could find. 

Mostly we tootled around the island of Havre Aux Maisons. Literally that means "haven to houses." With very few trees on the island, what you notice is the colorful houses. We saw no lavish mansions, just simple, well-cared for homes.

Even the birdhouses are cherished.

Clotheslines are another sight more common than in the US.

A few more pictures from the day's riding.

We ate lunch at the end of this pier.

We returned to our campsite by mid-afternoon. Rob was keen to find the microbrew he heard was nearby.  But almost a week into our trip clean clothes had a higher priority. There were washers and dryers in the shower house.

When packing for a bicycle trip the goal is minimalism. A couple sets of riding clothes and we'll want comfortable clothes for when we aren't riding, a sweater, and rain gear. Just a few pairs of socks and underwear, and a towel. 

We'll wear one set of riding clothes for several days before switching to our other set and then feel fresh and clean for the first few hours of cycling. I'll hand wash a few things at night and strap them onto the top of my panniers to dry, if there's enough sun. Yes, even bras and underwear are tucked discreetly under a bungie cord.

But soon I can only take so much of putting on the same sweaty clothes every morning. And sometimes even my after-riding clothes start to smell. In that case, what can I wear while my clothes are spinning, rinsing and drying? My bathing suit, of course! 

After dumping everything into the washing machine Rob and I wandered over to the small public beach adjoining the campground. Skirting around the sunbathers we walked the stretch of sandy beach that extended about a half mile, finding colorful bits of sea glass, lightweight souvenirs we could easily tuck into our panniers. 

In the other direction, the beach meandered among red rocky cliffs before quickly coming to a dead-end. We found a quiet spot to swim in the clear, calm water, surprisingly warm this far north.

One of my pleasures after coming out of the water is having a dry, clean towel to wrap myself in. Not today; my towel was in the washing machine. I dripped uncomfortably as we made our way back to the shower house.

Clothes in the dryer, I got myself a shower. Still no towel, I stood outside in the sun, reading a magazine. It was kind of like watching a pot boil; it took a lot longer than you'd think to get dry. Then again, I didn't have anything else I had to do.

Laundry finished, we had dinner, and then set out for the microbrew A l'Abri de la Tempete - In the Shelter of the Storm. We sat outside enjoying a beer on the deck overlooking sand dunes and the ocean. Then we checked out an outdoor concert in the little town of Etang du Nord where we found a soft-serve ice cream stand that offered a large array of dipped toppings. The concert was not nearly as remarkable as the dark chocolate dip I had on top of my vanilla cone. 

We enjoyed the local beer with the local view - 
ocean and sand dunes.

PEI 8 - Loup-Marin Poutine

Day 5
Saturday, July 23, 2016

I don't pretend to be a student of Canadian history, so please don't quote me on any of this. But my understanding is that Quebec, settled predominantly by the French, has made grumblings over the years about seceding from the rest of Canada. (https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/apr/09/quebec-separatist-movement-independence-referendum) Bilingual signs throughout the country are an effort to respect that French population.

But on Les Isles de la Madeleine, the signs were not bilingual, only French. With the islands so isolated, many of the residents are not fluent in English. I enjoyed dusting off my knowledge of French from high school and college, five years of study that I only had one opportunity to put into practice, when Rob and I travelled in France a generation ago. I got so used to say "Bonjour" and "Merci" that, when we returned to PEI I caught myself still thinking in French.

Situated as we were somewhat in the middle of the archipelago, we decided we could ride to one end on Saturday and to the other end on Sunday. With the wind blowing from the south, we decided we'd rather get the headwind over with first, so that's the way we headed.

Everywhere on the islands we passed colorful, well-kept homes.

Even the motels were colorful and well-kept.

To get from our campground on Cap-Aux-Meules to Havre Aubert we bicycled about 5 miles along a sandbar. Makes you wonder what will happen to life on the islands after the oceans rise.

The wind and shallow bays provide great conditions for kite sailing. Rob and I agreed that next time we're on these islands we're definitely going to give it a try. If we're not too old by then.

Long sandy beaches are plentiful.

Have you ever seen a house painted like this?

We stopped in Havre-Aubert, the town that is pretty much at the end of the road. A young man at our campground recommended a restaurant where he works called Vent du Large - that's French for "offshore wind." We checked it out and liked the atmosphere, sitting on a deck overlooking the town, so we decided to stop for a bite to eat. In my journal I wrote that we got "beer, etc." for $78. We had a few appetizers with our beers.

One of the appetizers was without a doubt the best poutine you will have anywhere. Poutine is a Canadian dish of French fries with gravy and cheese curd. When served in diners or take-out, it is usually prepared with instant gravy and cheap cheese. This was "loup-marin poutine;" loup-marin is French for seal. In this case the poutine came with seal sausages and dried cranberries and the cheese curd was top-notch. Fishing is a major industry on the islands and evidently that includes seal.

The view as we drank our beer and enjoyed our poutine.

The town of Havre-Aubert.

We rode almost 50 miles. The main highway from Cap-aux-Meules to Havre-Aubert, was rather boring and had quite a bit of traffic. We had more fun exploring some of the residential roads once we got to Havre-Aubert.

PEI 7 - Les Isles de la Madeleine

Isle d'Entree, or Entry Island.

To give you some context, Les Isles de la Madeleine is that little collection of islands in the middle of this map, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The islands are in the province of Quebec. The Gaspee Peninsula, also in Quebec, is to the northwest (upper left corner). New Brunswick is due west,; Newfoundland is to the northeast. The red marker is on Souris, PEI, where the ferry begins the 5 hour crossing. Cape Breton, in Nova Scotia, is the land mass due east of PEI, and the rest of Nova Scotia is directly south of PEI.

Here's a closeup of the archipelago. There are eight islands in all; six are connected by sand dunes. We could have bicycled to all six, but we didn't. Of the other two islands, one, Isle de'Entree, is accessible by another ferry. The other, Brion Island, is 16 km. north of the rest and an ecological reserve that is uninhabited by humans and difficult to get to.

Our campground, Parc de Gros-Cap, was only a few miles from the ferry landing in Cap-Aux-Meules and we easily arrived before dark. The pictures below were taken Saturday morning.

PEI 6 - Nothing beats a ferry ride

Thursday afternoon & evening (July 22, 2016)

While we were waiting to get on the ferry we talked to some of the other foot passengers. Quite a few were from Montreal where they had gotten on a bus for the journey to the islands. Some were visiting family. Most spoke French. I started excavating my brain for the French grammar and vocabulary I had learned back in high school and college.

Waiting to Embark

We met another couple with bikes, Dave and Louise, also carrying all their gear, from western British Columbia. They had never heard of Les Isles de la Madeleine either, until they started planning this trip. Dave and Rob quickly discovered they had a lot of similar medical issues; whenever our paths crossed over the next few days, they quickly got into a discussion of symptoms, medications, and the close calls they'd had.

The boat pulled into the dock. Foot passengers disembarked and cars drove off and I got all bubbly with anticipation.

Back when our son Tim was a preschooler, we stopped late one morning to watch some workers laying down pipe on the UNH campus. The workmen soon broke for lunch, but Tim sat down, prepared to wait until they came back. 

I wonder if most adults have a passion like that, something they just never get tired of. Rob gets excited every time a flock of wild turkeys struts across our yard. Doesn't matter if it's a mom and dad and newborn chicks, or so late in the season that you can't tell the babies from the parents. He calls out to whoever is home to come and see. Imagine his excitement when he discovers one flock in the backyard and another in the front.

Me, I can barely contain myself when I come across a house getting raised up on beams, ready to be moved. And when I fly in or out of the Denver airport, there's that train that takes you to the different terminals. Waiting for the train, I position myself to get on the first or last car. There's a sort of shelf seat right at the end of the car where I always aim to sit, hoping there won't be too many old people or little kids who want to sit there. I love to watch the tunnel coming or going. There are two tunnels. One has little fans attached to the walls that spin as the train goes by. The other has hatchets that move back and forth. I like the fans best.

Ferry rides are right up there with moving houses and airport train tunnels. I don't think Rob has quite the same level of enthusiasm as I have. He'll get on the boat and settle into whatever seat looks good. But once we set down our stuff, I am off exploring. I'll come back and say, hey, I found some better seats. We'll pick up everything and stake out a new claim. Then I'll search out snack bars, restaurants, bars. Are there places to sit outside? On the Alaska Marine Highway ferry I discovered showers.

This one had a cafeteria, bar, and restaurant. It was too early for dinner, but as they say, "It's 5 o'clock somewhere," so we headed to the bar for a beer. Have you ever been in a room full of French people? When we flew to France, you wouldn't know it was an overnight flight. Talk, talk, talk, until finally the duty free sales got shut down just an hour or so before landing. 

The bar was hopping, with kids, music, talk, laughter. We didn't know what songs the one-man band was playing, but everybody else did and they all sang along, one big infectious party. 

After having a beer, it was time for dinner. The ferry ride was 5 hours, so we had plenty of time for a leisurely dinner.

We weren't exactly dressed up for a fine dining establishment, 

but they let us in anyway.

PEI 5 - Get me to the ferry on time! (Or not)

Day 4
Friday, July 22, 2016

Ever heard of Les Isles de la Madeleines? You're not alone. Many Canadians haven't either.

Earlier in the summer, in June, Rob and I attended Maine Fiddle Camp, as we do every year. Quebecois fiddler Eric Favreau was my teacher. When he introduced the first tune for the week he said it was from Les Isles de la Madeleines, a group of islands that is part of Quebec, but to get there you take a ferry from Prince Edward Island. Wait. PEI? We'd be going there this summer. That got my attention.

Back home I did a little research. I found out that there are several private campgrounds on the islands and that the ferry leaves every day at 2:00 from Souris, on the eastern shore of PEI.

Today we were within striking distance of Souris. Sort of. We could definitely get there in time for the ferry if we took the direct route, on the main highway. Or, we could take the scenic route, which was about 60 miles looping around the coastline. Maybe we could get there in time, but probably not. If we didn't make it, there was a campground five miles north of Souris. We'd take the ferry tomorrow.

The scenic route got our vote. After all, for us bicycle touring is not as much about the destination as about how much fun we can have along the way. 

With an early start we headed east along a narrow peninsula to the charming town of Georgetown, past a beautiful park along the water which would have been a lovely place to stop, had we not only just gotten started. After about 15 miles we were off the peninsula and stopped at a tourist information center for a short break. 

We pulled out our map and showed the woman at the desk where we were planning to ride, along the Points East Coastal Drive. Would we get some nice views?

"This part," and she pointed to the next 20 miles or so, "It's mostly through trees. You won't see much."

We decided to take the highway for the next ten miles or so. Turned out it had a smooth, wide shoulder, not much traffic and we started to fly - 18 miles per hour, then 19, 20. In no time we arrived at the turnoff for the next part of the scenic route and pulled into a gas station. We shared a soda.

"What a blast," I said. "What do you think about staying on this? We can easily make it to the ferry then."

"Sounds good to me," Rob said.

We needed to get there by 1 o'clock. We made it by 11.

Here it comes!

It took about 40 miles to get to the ferry in Souris.

PEI 4 - Tourist or Cyclist?

Day 3
Thursday, July 21, 2016

Bicycle touring. It's a trick to be both a tourist and a cyclist in the same day. When the tourist wins, the cyclist pays.

In the morning, when the day stretches out ahead of you, 50 or 60 miles is no big deal. No hurry to get started, and when you do, why not stop for any tourist attraction that catches your eye? After all, it's summer and the days are long.

Wood Islands Lighthouse

Just a couple miles down the road from where we camped was a historic lighthouse, the Wood Islands Lighthouse. We arrived before it opened at 9:30 and wandered through it at a leisurely pace until 11. Then some fast and smooth riding for about 20 miles. We passed a winery and stopped to taste a couple wines. Rob picked a strawberry wine which we both enjoyed - very light and summery.

Who wouldn't be happy after stopping to try a few wines?

Then it got hot. We arrived at our lunch destination well into the afternoon - King's Castle Provincial Park. The tourism book praised its storybook sculptures scattered throughout the park. I was thinking bronze works of art, but these were really just slapped together replicas of the three pigs, Little Red Riding Hood, and the rest of the crew. I was probably not the audience the creators had in mind. But we did enjoy a swim and a rest under some trees on the lawn. 

And it was free. The wonderful thing about the provincial parks in PEI is that they are all free, so we could pop into any one of them for just a short bit and not have to worry about getting our money's worth. I love Canada.

By late afternoon we arrived at Panmure Island Provincial Park with its beach and campground. The campground looked tempting. So did the beach. But with all our dilly-dallying we'd only ridden 40 miles. We could make another 20 miles or so to the next campground before dark. 

But first we stopped at The Sandbar & Grill, a beachside restaurant with outdoor patio seating. Rob stepped up to the window and ordered beer and fries. Those fries, made with fresh PEI potatoes, had to be the best I've ever had. The beer sure tasted good, too.

A random picture I took that day.
Everything on PEI, even the harbors, are tidy.

We arrived at Brudenhall River Provincial Park just as it was getting dark and the bugs were coming out. We had a campsite in the woods, nothing great. This was more of a resort than a park, with a swimming pool, hotel, and restaurant, as well as walks along the river, but we were too tired to explore any of it. We'd played the tourist all day and now all we wanted was a shower, dinner, and sleep. And, thankfully, the bugs were not as bad as the previous night.

Day 3 - 64 miles averaging 10.87 mph

I do wish we could have stopped for the night at Panmure Island. It would have been fun to set up camp when it was still early enough to go for a long walk along the beach. But when the next day unfolded so seamlessly, we were glad for having ridden those extra miles.

PEI 3: Selective Inattention Pays Off

Wednesday night (July 20, 2017): 

Between dillydallying in Charlottetown and sampling the Confederation Trail, we arrived at Northumberland Provincial Park shortly before dark. Even arriving late we never had any worries about having a place to stay. The provincial park people had assured us that they always make room somewhere for cyclists. But this one wasn't even close to full. Maybe only half. Hard to believe, as beautiful as it was. Then again...

While checking in, we started swatting at flies, black flies like the kind we get in New Hampshire during the first warm days of spring, the kind that go right for your hairline, on the back of your neck, drawing blood and leaving big welts. The woman who was checking us in offered us some bug spray, but we didn't want to take the time for it.

"They're usually only bad for a couple hours, at dawn and at dusk," she said. 

She showed us a map with the available campsites. We picked out one on the water.

She asked again. "You sure you don't want any bug spray?"

I said, "Oh, no, we'll be fine. We're just going to shower anyway."

We were not fine. We walked through a cluster of trees to our campsite that sat on bluffs overlooking the ocean. Before we could congratulate ourselves on having found such a choice piece of real estate, the flies descended on us, attacking in a swarm, our faces, hands, arms, neck, behind our ears. We alternated between swatting them and tearing into our panniers, throwing everything on the picnic table as we searched for fresh clothes, soap, and towel. Grabbing insect repellent, we walked as quickly as possible to the showers.

There were no bugs in the shower. Thank god. Dressing, I pulled my socks over the cuffs of my pants, put on a long-sleeve shirt, sprayed my baseball cap generously with insect repellent, and sprayed a bandanna, too, which I tied around my neck.

We noticed a small pile of kindling at the campsite. A fire might be just the thing to keep the bugs away. But we'd need more wood. And there, right in the empty campsite next door, sat a neatly stacked pile of wood. While Rob set up the tent I worked quickly to get a fire going in the little campfire ring in the grass. 

The woman at the office had said that the bugs were only bad until dark. She didn't say anything about the mosquitoes that came out to take their place. Fortunately, the smoke did work to keep them at bay and we enjoyed sitting around the fire - in the smoke - for a couple hours, watching the sun set and the stars come out.

Just before going to bed, Rob came back from the bathroom and said he'd seen a sign saying campfires were prohibited due to dry conditions. Yup, I had noticed it too, right there in plain view. I wondered if the other campfires belonged to people who didn't see the signs, or chose to ignore them. I'm just thankful that we both conveniently didn't notice it before.

I took these pictures the following morning. Above is the view from our campsite. Below is Rob packing up for the next day's ride. You can see our little campfire ring, where we enjoyed our illegal fire.

PEI 2: Free Advice? What's It Cost?

Day 2
Wednesday, July 20, 2016

When he heard we were going to bicycle on PEI, a bicycling friend said, "I hear the Confederation Trail has some good riding." 

I said, "That goes straight through the middle of the island. We're riding around the island to see the coastline."

But the woman who checked us into the campground our first night gave us a map that described a way to get into Charlottetown on the Confederation Trail, allowing us to avoid traffic going in and out of the city. Then she told us that the Confederation Trail had several tributaries to it and one of them would take us where we wanted to go after Charlottetown. Looking over the provincial map, we began to worry that the main road  - part of the Trans Canadian Highway - might have too much traffic, so maybe we'd give the trail a try.

We had no trouble following the directions into Charlottetown where we spent a few pleasant hours wandering around and stopping for an early lunch of fish and chips at a restaurant with outdoor seating overlooking the water. 

The Province House National Historic Site in the center of the city was closed for renovations, but at noon they put on a musical performance about Canadian and PEI history. They had an entire bit on how proud they are of their national health insurance highlighting - in song - the fact that Canadians look out for everyone, not just "Me."

In 1864 representatives from the provinces of Canada (now Ontario and Quebec), New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and PEI met at the Province House to discuss uniting as a confederation, probably why the Confederation name is so ubiquitous throughout PEI. But when the Confederation of Canada actually came into being, Prince Edward Islanders did not sign on, wanting to maintain their separate island identity. Then they got into serious debt building their railroad and, in order to avoid ruinous bankruptcy, decided that maybe joining up wasn't such a bad idea.

A street near the Province House in Charlottetown. 
The city has a homey feel to it.

We were still aiming to stay primarily at provincial campgrounds which are generally superior in most ways to the private ones. By my calculations we had about 30 miles to ride after leaving Charlottetown around one o'clock to get to Northumberland Provincial Park, on the southern coast. We'd have plenty of time.

But although the Confederation Trail took us into Charlottetown, we couldn't find our way out. We'd find some signs for it, and then they'd go nowhere. We spent about an hour riding back and forth, asking random pedestrians for directions, until we finally got on the trail and started going somewhere. Sort of. You've got to check out the website to really appreciate how idyllic the trail sounds: "The 435 kilometers of rolled stone dust trail has gentle gradients which never exceed 2% (up or down). This Island wide exploration corridor is ideal for visitors of all fitness levels." Rolled stone dust, my ass. It was topped with a thick layer of small red pebbles, like bicycling on the beach. I was afraid I'd fall and told Rob not to follow too closely. At least if I did fall, I'd probably have a soft landing and wouldn't have to worry about falling into traffic. 

And forget about "..beautiful rolling hill scenery, quaint villages and broad bay seascapes..." We were in the middle of nowhere, far from any towns and the only views we had were of green plants crowding each side of the path. Then we were riding through a dark tunnel of trees. We'd come to a road and see no signs, no hint of where we were. I had some idea from our road map that the longer we stayed on this, the further we'd get from the main road and ocean views. 

Maybe the gradient never exceeds 2%, but all we could maintain was an unsteady ride at 9 mph. Give me hills on solid ground.

But what worried me most was how isolated it felt. If we broke down for any reason, how would we get help? We saw no one, no houses, nothing, and the roads we crossed were empty country roads.

We stopped when we came to the next road crossing. "They don't even tell you where you are," I said.

"Can we get off this? This is awful," Rob said. "I'd rather have traffic than this."

That's what I love about my husband. Our thoughts are always in sync.

We could see a sign down the road with a highway number on it. We studied the map and figured out a way to get back to the highway. It was longer, but we'd hopefully make better time than this shit riding through what felt like molasses. 

As soon as we got back on the main highway everything opened up. Fields of grain, silos, expansive views, smooth shoulders, rolling hills, and little traffic. We stopped to rest at a farmstand that had tables and chairs on an outside deck. We filled up on fresh strawberries, cookies, soda, cheese and crackers.

We arrived at Northumberland Provincial Park after 6 p.m.

A final note about the Confederation Trail. During our two weeks in PEI, we crossed paths with several other self-supported bicycle tourists, all of whom had tried out the trail and nobody had anything good to say about it.

This is not the exact route we followed as I couldn't find the Confederation Trail on the map. I do know that we reconnected with the Trans-Canada Highway somewhere near Vernon Bridge. We clocked 55 miles for the day.