Spaghetti legs. Jelly knees. That’s what it feels like sometimes when we’re getting started in the morning or after a little break. There were lots of starts and stops today . Once you get going everything kicks into gear again, but once you stop…. spaghetti legs and jelly knees for the first while.
Cooking breakfast for 30 people every morning must be a Herculean feat, especially when groups appear at the same time. Our hosts, who declined a picture, saying they didn’t look good this morning, scurried around, cheerfully pouring coffee and tea, and somehow managing to feed everyone eggs, toast and fruit. They must have known that Charlie has a huge appetite because they placed an extra stack of toast beside him. Bonus! After they finish feeding everyone and cleaning the kitchen, they then take on the rooms….. It must be never ending during the summer months.
Charlie had an appointment several kilometres from where we were staying. From there we backtracked to the scenic road to Sackville. (I tremble a bit whenever I hear the word “scenic”. The direct translation of that word is “hilly, mountainous, and/or treacherous.) But before we got going, my new, from Salmon Arm, odometer started flashing oddly. We figured it would be wise to attend to it now as there would probably not be a bike shop anywhere around us in Sackville, PEI or Cape Breton. I like being able to look at my speed, etc., along the way; to be able to see how far we’ve done and know how much we’ve yet to do. We started calling bike shops. This one was too far. That one didn’t carry the right batteries. Neither did that shop. Well, let’s call one more. Turned out that the shop where they sorted out my odometer issues was less than 200 metres away , on the back side of where we stood! 
Let’s go! We didn’t have far to ride today; only about 50 km, but we did have to be there for 4pm. Jean Seally, a long time resident of Sackville and the mother of one of Mt A’s finest students, Peter, with whom Charlie still has frequent interactions, ( they are both maniacal soccer fiends and analyse teams and plays and everything else about “the beautiful game”), had put an announcement in the town newspaper that Charlie Hunter was passing through Sackville on his Canada 150 Cross Canada Bike Tour and should anyone wish to say hello, there was to be a reception for him at a park. This made Charlie pretty nervous. He said that nobody would want to go there, that it was embarrassing. He thought that there’d be about 3 people there. 
The wind was strong off Dorchester Cape, which is at the top of the Bay of Fundy. Full on, with little or nothing to break their force, we fought our way through them, up and down those winding, tortuous hills. We made it though with enough time to stop at the home of Nev Garrity, a long time friend of Charlie’s. They used to get together and down mounds of mussels, so we’d stopped at a grocery store to buy some to drop off at his home. “What if he’s not there, Charlie?” “We’ll leave them anyway. He’ll get a kick out of that.” Well, fortunately for Nev and the mussels, we did not have to leave them gasping and suffocating on the porch in the hot sun. And Nev did not have to come home 2 weeks later to a putrid mass of shells and slime reaking at his front door. Nev was home and tickled pink that Charlie had stopped at his home first before going on to Sackville. (Turns out Nev and I went to the same high school in Pointe Claire, Quebec, years, he said, that were some of the worst in his life. ) 
There were about 15 people milling around when we got to the reception, including Chantal, Charlie’s youngest daughter, her husband and four year old, George. Jol, Charlie’s brother was there, along with Matt, his eldest son.
Matt wants to go for a ride with us tomorrow on our rest day, probably on the Tantramar Marsh Boardwalk. Gradually more people drifted by to say hello and to have a piece of cake. 
Former colleagues, friends, parents of kids Charlie had coached in soccer , even the town newspaper. We chatted and stood for pictures, as dirty and dishevelled as on every other day. 
George wanted to ride with Charlie (and later with me) and he led the way on the park pathways, his sturdy little legs pumping madly on his 2-wheeler, kept upright by training wheels. 
After everyone had moved on from the reception, Jol, Matt, Chantal, Adam, George, Charlie and I went to a local restaurant for dinner. Chantal and her family will be staying with Chris, Chantal ‘s mother and we’ll see them tomorrow. Jol and Matt are going to crash at the home where we are staying.
Carolynn Bembridge, is a friend from when he coached her daughter, Kate in soccer years ago. She has a bubbly personality and enjoys an active lifestyle. She and her husband William, kindly offered us the use of their home while we are in town. Fantastic, but it would be even better if they were here too. Carolynn ‘s uncle is celebrating his 90th birthday and, you know, that only happens once in a lifetime. They are there celebrating it with him. Their home is one of the many older homes in this town. It has been carefully maintained, the exterior covered with a deep red siding, the floors inside, original and shining. It has a welcoming feeling about it; a come-on, get comfortable vibe. That’s what we did. We showered and sat around in their living room, talking and checking our electronic devices occasionally, as people do. When we finally dropped into bed we could hardly keep our eyes open and soon we were deep into that mysterious, personal, adventurous, and complex world that awaits each of us every night.
Wendingourway:Across Canada by Bike 2017 
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