Maritime Canada, Part 7 - A Few Days On PEI

   Our pre-planned strategy for the day’s bicycle journey was to do the out-and-back from

Mt. Stewart to St. Peters, about thirty-three miles, and then I would continue on myself, about another eleven, back to the cabin. Sue always says something about “holding me back” when we ride, and I have to reiterate how dialing down the pace makes the experience much more enjoyable for me. If I need/want to hammer it, I can always do more miles afterward, and later on in the day I'd have the perfect opportunity.

   After all, we were here to spend time together, see new sites and have a good time - we’re not doing any of those things when we’re flying by the beautiful scenery, burying ourselves in sweaty misery!

   Mt. Stewart is at the junction point of the east-west main artery of the Confederation Trail and the north-south leg that heads toward the capital city of Charlottetown. The trailhead in the middle of the wye includes a nice-sized parking lot, a pavilion for picnickers and a combination welcome center/library/bakery.

   Heading east, we were immediately in the middle of a lush forest with flowering bushes and a few beaver (didn’t see any) ponds. A katydid scared the living crap out of me as it buzzed by my head, clicking more loudly and at a faster tempo, as it nearly crashed into my helmet. I think he was either warning me or giving a “heads up” to a couple of his friends farther along the trail, as there were some more crazy clickers a short way up the path.

   The trail was perfect for ‘cross bikes like ours with a consistent surface of crushed gravel, mostly of the reddish stone to which we have become accustomed in Atlantic Canada. Some of the less-traveled sections looked like parallel single-track and had a softer feel with some of the greenery intruding on the gravel. Our knobby tires rolled smoothly over these sections, and with all the off-road riding we’d been doing, the conditions were very welcome on our butts and hands!

   Most intersections included street names for reference points and there were frequent kilometer signs to give riders additional progress markers. There were occasional spots of thick gravel near some of the road crossing gates, but because we were slowing down anyway, they didn’t create problems.

   At about nine miles was the town of Morell, marked by an old PEI Railway station that now houses an information center and bathrooms for the trail. Just across the street was a food trailer doing a good deal of lunchtime business selling fries, and we weren’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that we left our money back in the van.

   There was an incredible variety of scenery, from dense evergreen forest to wheat fields and even a commercial blueberry farm. Eventually we emerged from another forest onto the marshy lands along St. Peters Bay, upon which we could see neat rows of buoys marking the oyster and mussel beds that are part of the area’s aquaculture industry.

   When we reached the outskirts of St. Peters, we were a bit surprised by the tents, RVs and trailers parked around the trail area, as we had no idea the town’s blueberry festival was taking place that weekend. Most of the action was happening away from the path itself, so other than a few pedestrians occasionally crossing, it was no big deal.

   With only a population of a couple hundred people, the town itself didn’t have a lot to it, but there was a row of shops and food spots called St. Peters Landing and a nice little park, perhaps for passing cyclists to use as a picnic spot.

   The return leg wasn’t much more than the same thing in reverse, although the sun was very intense, and the temperature was a bit higher inland. We had been spoiled by a couple weeks in the cool air around the Bay of Fundy! Prince Edward Island was supposedly having a bit of a heat wave, even if “approaching 90 degrees” in the summer would usually seem a bit wimpy to us. I suppose when PEI’s normal temperature is 73 at this time of year, 90 does seem hot!

   Sue has always had a bit of a faulty thermostat, as far as regulating her own body heat, and she was feeling pretty “done” when we reached Mt. Stewart, so I think she was probably more willing for me to ditch her than normal. I have gotten in a good amount of riding this trip, but it has been a while since I’ve really been able to do a long, flat run like I get to do on our area rail trails. I was looking forward to this!

   The trail I rode back toward Corran Ban felt really remote in sections, though I knew the main highway was always just off to my right a couple hundred yards or so. I could see nothing but meadows and bog areas near the river off to my left, and a dense line of forest screened off my right side. I laughed to myself when, a few miles into the ride, I reached a clearing at a road crossing and could see a familiar van with red and green kayaks atop, going off in the distance.

   Strangely, when I finally made the intersection with Route 6, which headed north toward our cabin site, I almost felt like someone had dropped me back in Pennsylvania. Other than the presence of an occasional potato field that would have tipped me off to my true location, the hot, humid air, along with the rolling road through cornfields, and a countryside dotted with farmhouses, barns, silos and cow pastures, made me feel right at home!

   The next couple days featured iffy weather, as some rain and thunderstorms were lurking in the area. We lucked out a bit on Saturday, though it was rather hot and humid in the morning, and we were able to get in a walk through Charlottetown, including a visit to St. Dunstan’s Basilica and lunch at a floating fry shack at the marina.

   A cool front came through in the late afternoon while we were killing a couple hours in the library, which made for a pleasant stroll on Victoria Row. The pedestrian-only street is lined with Victorian-era storefronts, now filled with restaurants and boutique shops – a great place to sit and people-watch.

   The wind picked up a bit and some threatening clouds moved in, but we were able to enjoy a delicious dinner at a gluten-free fish and chips place called Brits. The absolutely necessary follow-up was a stop for some soft-serve ice cream – it coats and soothes after the fried batter foods!

   Rain and mist was off and on the following day, so we set out on a drive down the eastern shore. Sue is a bit of a beachcomber, with her main preference being sea glass. Souris (which means “mouse” in French, and is pronounced sore-ee) lighthouse (photo above), which was the last manned light on PEI in 1991, stunned Sue with an immense display of sea glass in all different colors. She commented on the interesting pieces of sea pottery and regretted that she didn’t have any in her own collection.

   While at our cabin, Sue had done a little bit of investigating into some of the good locations for “treasure”, and we checked out four or five spots. Ironically, at a location called Poverty Beach, Sue came up with her first piece of sea pottery.

I just hope, in a couple days, the border police will let her back in the country with her “loot”!