PEI 13 - Show and Tell

Day 8
Tuesday, July 26, 2016 (continued)

By the time we arrived at the Cable Head Bed & Breakfast in St. Peters, the rain had stopped and the sky was beginning to clear. Even so, we were committed to sleeping in a bed with sheets and a comforter, resting our heads on full-sized fluffy pillows. Camping has a way of transforming the ordinary into a luxury. 

The Cable House Bed and Breakfast

This was just a little more inviting than our tent and sleeping bags. (This picture comes from the website.)

We were not surprised when Dave came out the front door as we greeted the innkeeper in the driveway. Yes, he and Louise were the ones tying up the phone when we were trying to make our reservation from the Shipwreck Point Cafe. 

They had eaten an early dinner, but joined us anyway when we biked the couple miles down the road to Rick's Fish and Chips. You can't beat fish and chips and beer after a day of cycling. Louise assured us that she enjoyed her day of riding in the rain. Rainy day bicycling gets an undeserved bad rap.

That's Dave and Rob. Notice that blue sky overhead. We could have camped after all. But, nevertheless, we enjoyed the B&B.

After dinner we relaxed in the living room. The conversation turned to camping gear, and the challenge of minimizing weight while maximizing comfort. 

I said, "A few years ago, we got it down to the bare essentials. Now we're trying to figure out what luxury items we need. Like a full-size bath towel. And for this trip we brought a chair."

Like that kindergartener who can't wait for her turn at Show and Tell, I went to get our new chair and set it up.

 

Louise and Dave each took a turn and agreed it was quite comfortable and something to consider. Then we moved onto the subject of sleeping pads. 

A number of years ago Rob and I went with a short, thin pad. It barely weighed anything and fit anywhere, terrific for backpacking and a crappy night's sleep. We have since upgraded to a slightly thicker pad, but, still, there's always room for improvement. I recently researched lightweight cots, but they're too big for our tent.

Dave and Louise had a waffle kind of pad that we'd almost bought. Isn't it a pain in the neck to inflate? Dave got his pad and demonstrated blowing it up.

Dave said, "Let's compare - weight, cost, size, comfort."

Dave wasn't sold on our model and Rob couldn't decide what he thought of the waffle kind.

I said, "It's bumpy." 

Dave replied, "But you can hold onto those bumps for security." 

We rode 47 miles on Tuesday.

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.