In 2009 we introduced Kylee and Tim to bicycle touring with
a 5-day ride in Prince Edward Island (PEI), one of the maritime provinces of
Canada. Then we spent a week exploring the rest of the island by car. Ever
since, Rob and I had been wanting to go back and bike around the entire island. We did some rough estimates and figured we
could complete the circuit in two weeks at our usual 50-miles-per-day pace.
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| Prince Edward Island is in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, tucked alongside New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. |
We began our adventure on Tuesday, July 19, 2016, having
driven from New Hampshire to PEI the day before. Rob had made arrangements ahead of time for us to leave our car at the Carleton Motel and Coffee Shop
where we spent the night.
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The eight-mile-long Confederation Bridge connects PEI to New Brunswick. It's free to drive onto PEI, but if you want to leave the island it'll cost you $46.
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Just 15 minutes after we started I saw a fox by the side of the road. Then hay bales, farm equipment, golden fields of canola, and red dirt mounded up in rows of potato plants with white or blue flowers. We passed many self-serve farm stands selling new potatoes, but they came in 5-lb. bags which neither of us wanted to carry. Too bad for us.
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That's me. We carried everything we needed for camping and cooking on our bikes.
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We eventually caught up to and passed this farmer.
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That's Rob. The yellow field in the background is canola. You may notice that Rob has more packs on his bike than I do, but we're carrying the same amount of weight. You'll have to trust me on this.
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This wasn't the only time we saw a tidy display of farm equipment on someone's front lawn. People in Canada generally have tidy houses, too. We rarely saw the rundown shacks that we often pass in the United States. Generally the houses seem to be more modest, too.
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We stopped for lunch and a nap on the grassy expanse of Fort Amherst National Park. While we had easy riding in the morning, we had to work harder in the afternoon as the temperature climbed and so did we - up hills with no shoulders. After riding 55 miles we arrived at the KOA campground in Cornwall.
In the past, I have made it a point to avoid private campgrounds, as overpriced, crowded, noisy, and dirty. But recent experience, especially in Maine last summer, has forced me to reevaluate. This one was expensive, but we had a site right on the water, trees on either side giving us a bit of privacy.
After a swim in the pool and dinner, Rob wanted to go for a walk. "Maybe we can find someone who will offer us a beer."
We strolled along the waterfront marvelling, as always, at the size of the campers and all the paraphernalia that people bring along - the welcome signs, lawn ornaments, lanterns, and lawn furniture.
A man was hauling a picnic table over to an elderly couple sitting in folding chairs in front of a camper the size of a city bus. As we walked by, he asked if we would take their picture. We got to talking and he offered us some wine and, well, it wasn't beer, but we were happy for it. He'd driven all the way from Florida, leaving his children behind so that he could take mom on a vacation. She had grown up in one of the towns on the island, her father having carved the statues on one of the churches. The older gentleman didn't say anything, just revved up and spit every now and then; we assumed he was the woman's husband.
The next morning Rob rose in time to see the sunrise and six egrets. Me, I was happy enough to catch the colors of the sunrise from inside our tent, just as I saw the colors from the sunset the night before, so tired I was in my sleeping bag before 9 p.m. Rob had wanted me to watch the sunset with him, but then he fell asleep even before I did.
In the past, I have made it a point to avoid private campgrounds, as overpriced, crowded, noisy, and dirty. But recent experience, especially in Maine last summer, has forced me to reevaluate. This one was expensive, but we had a site right on the water, trees on either side giving us a bit of privacy.
After a swim in the pool and dinner, Rob wanted to go for a walk. "Maybe we can find someone who will offer us a beer."
We strolled along the waterfront marvelling, as always, at the size of the campers and all the paraphernalia that people bring along - the welcome signs, lawn ornaments, lanterns, and lawn furniture.
A man was hauling a picnic table over to an elderly couple sitting in folding chairs in front of a camper the size of a city bus. As we walked by, he asked if we would take their picture. We got to talking and he offered us some wine and, well, it wasn't beer, but we were happy for it. He'd driven all the way from Florida, leaving his children behind so that he could take mom on a vacation. She had grown up in one of the towns on the island, her father having carved the statues on one of the churches. The older gentleman didn't say anything, just revved up and spit every now and then; we assumed he was the woman's husband.
The next morning Rob rose in time to see the sunrise and six egrets. Me, I was happy enough to catch the colors of the sunrise from inside our tent, just as I saw the colors from the sunset the night before, so tired I was in my sleeping bag before 9 p.m. Rob had wanted me to watch the sunset with him, but then he fell asleep even before I did.
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| Day One - 55 miles, averaging 10.97 mph |
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