The TransCanada Trail on PEI is a great and wonderful trail, if you are prepared to take a long time to get to where you’re going. It is wide, nicely cleared, quite flat as it winds between the hills and was originally graded for trains and it’s covered in reddish gravel, that is perhaps just a little too thick to roll through at any decent speed.
That’s what we took out of Charlottetown, after our trip to the hospital for Charlie’s blood tests. We had said our goodbyes early to Mark and Suzane, leaving without eating. It was my job to assemble our breakfasts together while Charlie waited in line for his turn at the lab. When he was done, we ate, rinsed our bowls and were on our way!
It was slow going on this beautiful morning. We had lots of time and the air was warm, fresh and ocean-infused, the scenery, pretty but similar all along; many wildflowers and thick green foliage. We pushed our way through that gravel. Because it winds between the hills , it’s the longer way to take, Occasionally it criss-crossed the highway and reaching such am intersection, we decided to take that for a while. 
Immediately we faced an imposing hill. We climbed it and then, there was another hill. That was the choice. Slow going gravel or hill after hill. We stuck with the hills for an hour or so, then went back to try the gravel again. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. The time was being eaten up and it wasn’t long before we had to go back to the hills. We had to be at the ferry and ready to board by 3:30.
We got there in plenty of time. We made our lunch and as we were waiting another cross Canada cyclist pulled up. Originally from England, Craig now resides in Vancouver where he’d started off his trip on June 9th. Then two young guys pulled in, laughing and chattering. They were from Toronto and having a whale of a time. Matthew was enjoying his summer before returning to university in the fall. He’s taking business at a small religious university in Hamilton, Ontario , and he applauds the class sizes, saying that it gives him the opportunity to know the other students and the professors better and that it’s an atmosphere conducive to learning. The other, Chris, had just finished his first summer of tree planting and he described it as” The worst experience I’ve ever had. It was terrible. We were hot, the bugs were awful and we were covered in bites and scabs. I don’t know if I’d ever do it again………and yet, it was the most amazing, the most incredible, summer I’ve ever had.” 
The ferry from PEI to Caribou, Nova Scotia takes about 75 minutes. We were inside for most of it, Charlie plugged into his Amazon Fire, blogging, me attempting to read, failing and nodding off. Just before we landed on the Nova Scotia shores I went outside and let the wind whip the drowsiness out of me. We debarked, said goodbye to our other “tribe members” and headed to the rotary, or roundabout in Pictou county. Mark, one of Charlie’s brothers, (3rd brother), and Pauline, his wife met us there and drove us to Ian Cameron’s home.
It was great to have some time with these elusive Hunters. For many years Mark and Pauline lived in Japan, then in Madagascar. Now, retired and young enough to really enjoy it, they split their time between Georgia, and Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. Their daughter, Abbey, a redhead who inherited her flaming locks from both parents, is fluent in Japanese and is working as an OT in Halifax. 
We arrived at Ian Cameron’s home minutes before the arrival of more Hunter/Cameron clan. Maura, our sister-in-law, married to Jol, drove up with two of her adult kids, Emily and Matthew. Then, walking from across the field, Maura and Ian’s brother, Alex and his wife, Cheryl arrived. They and their 4 kids had just gotten back from a camping trip. Maura and Pauline had prepared a lot of food; fresh home-made, hamburger buns, hamburger patties, potato salad, broccoli salad, bean salad, and apple crumble. Everyone is always so glad to see Charlie as he so seldom gets out this way these days. Every time there’s a get-together it’s a celebration! 


It was a very nice evening.
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