August 1st……already. What a whirl we’ve been on this summer! We have had hard times, cold, windy times, rain, blazing heat, hills, mountains, soggy feet, itchy bug bitten bodies, sore shoulders, leg cramps, and we’ve been so tired we’ve fallen asleep in seconds anywhere. It’s been phenomenal. Now we’re realizing that time is moving on and soon we’ll be back to real life. Ahh…. we are grateful that we have good things to go back to. 

I had expected lighthouses to be bigger than the one we camped beside last night. It was a real lighthouse, I was assured,  but now ships and boats  use GPS to find their way ashore safely. The alarm went off at 6:50. We had 40 minutes to do our morning Bible reading, pray, dress, pack up our tent and bikes and get to Bob’s house for coffee. We could see his house from our quiet stealth campsite.

Bob and Mary Lea Gray greeted us at their airy, comfortable cottage overlooking the water. Mary Lea and her sister, Betty, who was visiting from Montreal and joined us a little later, grew up on the Island. Like many people we’ve spoken to who once left the island, they returned. The island must have some kind of emotional magnetism that draws it’s own home again. Bob is an American from Pittsburgh, who worked all over the world in the finance industry. He is proud that he never missed an opportunity to live and experience other cultures, other parts of the world. He laughed as he told us that he was here because he’d married an island girl. Said that that was what happened to many men…  They have enjoyed cycling as well, to all parts of the island as well as in other parts of the world. 

We had breakfast; oatmeal with blueberries and bagels with cream cheese along with the promised coffee. Betty came down and we talked about Montreal and how much we love it there too. This was another jewel of an experience, another example of the goodness and kindness of strangers. I can’t express how my heart feels. I could cry. People have been incredibly, enormously, open and giving to us. Charlie and I are both feeling overwhelmed and feel like we ourselves have not been giving enough. We’ve been on the receiving end this whole time. Thank you, thank you, thank you, every single one of you!

Our short term destination today was Argyle Provincial Park, which was enroute to Charlottetown.     Along our route we crossed paths with Suzane and Marc. They live in West Vancouver but spend their summers in Charlottetown. Suzane grew up here. The two were having a perfect morning cycling a circular route and we stopped to chat. There was an instant connection and we were all laughing and talking. They invited us to stay at their place tomorrow night as we already have somewhere for tonight. “And we’ll make you dinner. Now, when you pass Cornwall, don’t forget to stop at Mary’s Cornwall Bakery. They make the best cinnamon buns on the island”. We found it! And we look forward to the fun we’ll have with them tomorrow night!

At Argyle Provincial Park the grass drops down an embankment to the red mud/sand beach. The tide was out and you could walk a long way before getting to the ocean, the  waves lapping gently against your ankles. I’ve wanted to walk alongside the ocean for a long time. We did. For about 3 hours we walked and poked around in the little tidal pools, collected shells and let the wind whip through our hair, the sun shine on our shoulders. It was warm with a refreshing ocean breeze.  Charlie tried out something he’d heard about. He borrowed the toilet plunger from the bathroom and “pumped” for clams. He didn’t find any but that plunger is very clean  now.  . Jol, Charlie’s brother who had business on the island joined us for a little picnic and after he left, Charlie found a grassy spot near our bikes and had a nap. (We made sure the grass snake that had been under my bike had moved on.) 

We rode to Charlottetown, stopping for dinner at a Chinese food buffet. How Charlie loves those! And he definitely got his money’s worth!  

Our refuge for the night was the home of a friend of Chantal’s friend, who had said they’d host us for a case of beer. Veronica and Adam have been together since they were 14 and 15 respectively and they are going strong. Adam is a plumber and Veronica has her Masters in Social Work and counsels young people. They have 1 year old twins, a girl, Vienna and a boy, Maverick. The babies go to bed at around 6:30 and sleep about 12 hours without a peep.  We asked her how that happened and she explained that she read a lot about it and employed a method where all “sleep props” are removed at bedtime. She said that if babies get used to being rocked to sleep or to having a soother, cuddling with a stuffed toy, or to whatever else, that when they awaken that’s what they want/need to get back to sleep. She said she learned that by removing all those things, the babies have to learn to sleep without them. The initial two weeks were brutish but it’s been smooth sailing ever since. Amazing! 

They have a lovely home with a divinely comfortable guest room. We showered, visited with them for a bit, then crashed. Another incredible day!

Thank you Adam and Veronica!

We’re on PEI.

Wait,  let me rephrase that……

WE ARE ON PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND

and……

WE RODE OUR BICYCLES TO GET HERE!!!!!!!

,,,,,,except for Confederation Bridge, of course, but no one is allowed to bike across that.

Charlie reminded me as we were shuttling across it that he’s probably the only person to have run across both Confederation Bridge and the Peace Bridge (in Calgary) on their opening days. Yay Charlie! You never cease to amaze me!

Thanks to Carolynn and William Bembridge who opened their home to us even though they weren’t home, Charlie and I were well rested, freshly showered, with clean clothes when we left Sackville.   There’s a Sandpiper Festival this past weekend in Sackville and the day before we’d driven the Bembridge’s car (with their permission) out to where the Sandpipers are usually seen at low tide. Charlie said that he’s seen the beach totally heave with bird activity, but yesterday we saw none. We must not have been there at the right time of the day.

A trail runs from Sackville all the way out to Confederation Bridge, apparently. We started out on it but after a bit more than 10km it started to deteriorate so we left the trail when we came to a paved road.

Charlie lived in these parts for a long time and made contact with many people, from students, faculty at MT A, to the kids and the parents of those kids who he coached in soccer. Church contacts, community contacts, friends of his daughters, friends of his ex-wife……  Charlie knows a lot of folks. So, it shouldn’t be any surprise that the person he flagged down for directions was someone he knew. Charlie had coached all 3 of Peter Manchester’s sons in soccer, 3 boys, all men now, educated, employed and living their lives. Peter and he chatted for a while, then Peter gave us directions and told us that we’d be passing by his summer home and asked us to stop in as we passed.

We rode. It was a spectacular day and we only had about 76km to do, we thought. (Ended up to be 95km). Traffic was light. The roads did go up and down but nothing too intense. We were enjoying every kilometre. A man in a truck pulled to the side, got out and waited for us to get to him.   Charlie was concerned; he couldn’t place this guy. Bill Cook introduced himself and said he’d just wondered if we needed directions or anything else. He was on the way to a fishing area to help people with their fishing gear. When does anyone stop like that? We were impressed and thankful.

Eventually we got to Peter’s place set across the road from  the longest strip of undeveloped beach in the area.   Peter must have been watching for us because he waved and called us over. He has an old lobster boat on his property that he, and his sons, when they’re around, are turning into a bunkhouse. He has some creative ideas and he wants it to “look flashy, but not too flashy” and have “a veneer of plausibility”.   He invited us to stay the night but we declined gratefully. We have plans and PEI is where we want to be tonight.  So we left. Before long we  passed a gravel road and Charlie asked if we had time for a stop.Yes, we do. We looped around to a well hidden house. Charlie expected to see someone there but instead met up with someone else he ,knew from when he worked at Mt A.  Ken and Janet Adams are enjoying their summer on the NB coastline. Retired now, Ken was a chemistry prof and advisor to international students. They were pretty darn surprised when Charlie rode up to their screen window!

On and on.   Finally we got to Confederation Bridge, which we crossed via the shuttle. From there we did about 25 more kilometres to get to Victoria-by-the-Sea. So incredibly, astoundingly beautiful…..   We were there once before with Rebecca, our sister-in-law and Willy, Charlie’s youngest brother. 2007, I think…… We met them in Sackville, and cycled from there to PEI, then rode the Blue Heron Trail. We had so much fun! When we got to VbtS, we ate at a restaurant off the wharf. Charlie asked the waitress who the most colourful character was in the place, and she indicated a man at the bar. Charlie sent him a beer. We finished our meal and were about to head out when the waitress told us that that man owned the boat tied alongside the wharf and would we like to join him and a few friends for a ride? Sure thing! Excellent! We climbed aboard. My antenna perked up right away. Music was BLASTING, people were all over the place. The boat took off like it was being chased and there we were, speeding into the night. One girl with whom I’d had a quick conversation about her boyfriend and how much in love she was, started swinging around one of the outside ropes or poles or something. She was drinking and having a real good time. I thought that if she fell off, we’d never find her so I coaxed her down and asked her all about that fantastic, amazing, handsome, delicious man she was dating. Kept her feet on the boat. That’s what counts! Anyway, Rebecca got the “captain”, owner to turn around by telling him she thought she was going to throw up. Turns out that the guy who owned the boat also owned the restaurant and his name was Myron Mitten. Myron was a lawyer who got busted and did time for running drugs up the coast! What a tale!

Fish and chips never taste better than after a sea water swim. It was so refreshing! The fish was fresh and lightly battered, the chips sizzling. My new favourite beer is a Blueberry Beer made in PEI , Gahan. Try it, you’ll like it.  

We sat outside the restaurant, taking advantage of their wifi and waiting until it got a little darker. We had our stealth campsite all picked out; the back side of the lighthouse. We would be hidden  in plain sight, but we planned on setting it up when things quietened down a bit more.   A man walked by us on the wharf…….

“Hi. Are those your bikes? Where did you come from? How many km do you do in a day? What’s your destination? ” He was really interested in our trip and asked many questions, including if we had blogs. The conversation evolved as conversations do. He spoke of Mount A. Charlie divulged that he’d worked there for 25 years. We walked towards the lighthouse together. Bob lived in that direction and we’d admitted to our camping plan. “Would you like to come by in the morning for coffee”, he asked. “Great idea! Thank you! We’ll be happy to!”

Someone, Sue,  I can’t remember her last name, came by on a bike. She is related somehow to the man, Bob Gray. She took one look at Charlie and said, “I know you! You’re Charlie and you were Dean of Students when I was at Mt A.”

Proof, once again,  that it’s a small, small world!!!

Lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer…… Maybe not days, but day anyway.

We slept in. It was about 8am before I even moved. Charlie had already retreated to the living room and was lying on the couch, his 6′ 4″ frame jack-knifed trying to fit. He was listening to a Wolves podcast. “What is that?”, you ponder. Well, to be a part of this Hunter clan, it appears that you either have to be a mad Wolves fan or successfully feign to be one. “What are Wolves?”, you may ask. Wolves, officially known as Wolverhampton Wanderers, are currently playing soccer, or football as it is known there, in the Championship division. Their season officially kicks off next Saturday, August 5th.  Charlie has obsessively followed the Wolves team since his father took him to a game when he was about 8. In turn, this obsession has infiltrated every other Hunter and Hunter spouse for decades now. Generations even. “Charlie, come back to bed.” “Can I listen to this in bed?” ” Of course you can,” He was back to sleep in minutes.

Today, Sunday, we planned on attending the church Charlie attended 12 years ago before he was lured away to the Wild,Wild West by some woman with a nasty cat. Me, that is. (We met on E-Harmony, and for some reason the fact that I had a nasty cat and loved her anyway intrigued him. Thanks Chloe. The church was St Andrews Presbyterian , a small white wooden building.  We actually got married there over 10 years ago. Charlie and I attend Sunwest Christian Fellowship in Calgary weekly. It’s a come-as-you-are church that meets in the cheap movie theatres in Canyon Meadows. You stick to the floors. We attended for about 8 years or so before we realized it was Mennonite. It’s great church with good music and bible based messages/sermons that you can actually apply to your life. There’s a real cross section of people who attend and we have built very solid friendships and supports. This church in Sackville worships in a different manner. Their songs are more traditional. They are more reserved and everything follows procedure. But despite the differences, the message was very applicable and the people just as wonderful. God, I believe, knows our true hearts and loves every one of us.

Ali, a young man we met at the pub last night asked us to meet him for coffee today, so we made arrangements to meet at “The Black Duck” a local coffee house at 2 pm. He was there, reserving a seat at the window. Ali is a Shia Muslim from Saudi Arabia, but no one would ever guess. His blond hair is shaved and he has blue, blue eyes.   Today, as he was last night, he is wearing a backwards baseball cap, a muscle shirt and shiny tight pants. He is animated, loud and excitable and very, very glad to see us. He  says that ” if you are in Canada, it means God loves you.” He plans on becoming a doctor and as soon as he can legally do it, he plans to apply for his Canadian Citizenship. What is truly amazing though is that he came here without knowing any English, he studied the language for a year and a half and now he’s taking university classes. And doing well in them!

We puttered the rest of the day. Groceries. Laundry. Leftover spaghetti for dinner. No riding today. It was nice. I mommied the 3 cats, feeding them, changing their water, letting them in, letting them out, letting them in, letting……..   Reminds me of how much I miss having a little cuddle bunny at home.  Ah well…. it would be harder to have adventures like this one. And I’m glad we had the opportunity to do this.

Have you heard of Matthew Hunter, the Nova Scotian swimmer? Well, he’s going to be competing in a triathlon in Nova Scotia next month and he’s asked us to ride with him as part of his training when we come through. 

Who could say no to such a request, even if it did fall on a precious rest day. 

Matthew and Jol, his dad, (One of Charlie’s 3 brothers) had stayed over at the Bembridge’s home, crashing in their sleeping bags on the couch and floor of the living room. We breakfasted together, Matt practiced on his imaginary bike,  then we all rode to McDonald’s to meet up with Maura, Jol’s wife, and Carl, a co-worker of Jol’s who were also going to ride.  Emily, Jol and Maura’s younger daughter and Chantal, Adam and George also came, Chantal acting as the official photographer. Sackville has some lovely trails to cover by bike including the Sackville Waterfowl Park and the Tantramar Marshes. They are mostly flat, a fact I especially appreciated on a rest day. One after another, me bringing up the rear, we wheeled through the parks, marshes and fields, admiring the spectacular sunshiny day and bucolic scenery.   It was very pleasant except when Matthew fell off his bike, grazing one knee in two places. He was very frustrated and it took some time to encourage him to get back on his bike. It was only last year at an Easter Seals Camp that he learned to ride a bicycle and now he’ll be in a Down Syndrome triathlon, (swimming, cycling and running) in Halifax this August. Admirable! Little George did a little cycling with us too, occasionally needing a “little push”. 

We returned to McDonalds, said goodbye to all except Matthew and Jol, stopped at the grocery store to buy groceries to make dinner for the four of us and returned to the Bembridge home. Charlie and I cooked what appears to have become “our specialty ” this tour, spaghetti, salad and bagett. We supplemented this liberally with some of the food Maura had sent along with Jol; cinnamon buns, banana chocolate chip muffins, energy bars, (2kinds!), salads. I’m probably forgetting something too, there was so much. When it was time to say goodbye, Jol left us with all this food. Charlie’s going to have to do some serious chewing down!

Avon, William Bembridge’s mother lives about 10 minutes away and has been coming by to feed the cats. She asked about them and I told her that I’d already fed them and that all three were in at the moment. “Three!”, she chortled. “Carolynn only has two!” The neighbors cat slept in bed with me the night before and seems to want to live here. As I type this she is once again curled up at the foot of the bed.   Last night though she was out and the other two were inside. At some point I moved my foot and one of them bit it, puncturing the skin on the sole. It looks ok right now and there’s no pain, but I’ll have to watch it.

Memories! When Jol and Matt left, Charlie and I wandered around the town and he told me stories. “See that tree over there….” “When Chris and I were Dons……” “That ridge over there was where a student……”. He was impressed at how nice Sackville looks these days, the pretty plants and flowers, the children’s water park, the many planted trees, the art sculptures, the metal bicycle shaped bike racks. There are also numerous new restaurants and bars. We walked through all of them, eventually going to “Ducky’s” and sitting at the bar. It was pretty empty but several people recognized Charlie and came over to talk. Around 11:40 the place started to hop. Suddenly there were animated people all over the place, and we both, but Charlie especially, enjoyed engaging them in conversation. There’s a blond, blue-eyed Iranian student who wants to meet us for coffee tomorrow. I’d never have guessed his heritage from his appearance. We’ll see if he calls…..

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. 

Why was I wide awake at 3am? Charlie too, but that could be expected; he’d napped for almost 2 hours during the day. I snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag and tried to catch the tail of my last dream. 

No. It didn’t work. Charlie was wide awake working on his Amazon Fire. I turned over and opened my iPad. An hour or so later I put it down, closed my eyes and dozed off. No such luck for Charlie. Eventually he gave up, crawled out of the tent and sat by the river as the sun peeked over the horizon and the new day began. He took some breathtaking pictures that he shared with me later when I awoke. Made me wish I’d stayed up with him. ….Almost.

We breakfasted, packed, and headed to Moncton on the TransCanada highway on wide, smooth shoulders, climbing long, slow hills. Charlie and I hold different philosophies on how to take on hills. He likes to coast down them, expending no energy until it’s absolutely necessary to turn a few cranks. I don’t like to ride behind  him going downhill as then I have to brake or I’ll run right over him.  I like to attack hills and let fly! I pedal for all I’m worth until there’s no resistance and then, on the upswing, I pedal some more. It’s not safe to do that here however, as the asphalt can’t be trusted. Somehow though, despite my efforts, Charlie always overtakes me climbing hills. Big sigh…….

   It wasn’t warm out and we were dressed accordingly. Every now and then we’d ride through some rain droplets but there was never enough to make us stop and don our raingear. It was good.

Cory was munching banana bread, and washing it down with coffee, at a corner store, his lightly packed road bike with super skinny tires balanced against the wall beside him.  (He’s had more than 10 flats, 4 within 80 km!) He started his journey from Vancouver Island and also plans to finish in Newfoundland. He’s faster than we are though, (buff and about 35 years younger). His start date was June 5th. Today his plan was to get to PEI, about 187 km away. Cycling alone for most of his journey, he was finding the ride long and lonely and he expressed an eagerness to get it over with. He planned on  joining someone from Quebec on PEI that he’d met earlier in his journey and he and his friend were going to cycle Cape Breton together and then ferry to Newfoundland and finish off there. He is a gas fitter, air conditioning technician with a union job waiting for him in Kitchener-Waterloo when he’s ready to start. It seems incredible to us that we too are so close to finishing this marathon ride. We look forward to it because we know that we will feel proud of ourselves for completing this goal; that this dream did not just stay on the drawing board. But in another way, it’s also a bit sad. It will be the end of an absolutely amazing experience, an extreme adventure. We hope and plan on having time at the end to see Chantal, Charlie’s younger daughter, her husband, Adam, George, their four year old son and Robyn, the elder daughter, her husband John and their two kids, Jack and Cookie, who are on the east coast for the summer. The rest of the year Robyn and her family live in Rimbey, about 2 1/2 hours north west of Calgary. We also want to see Charlie’s brothers and their families and to have a couple of days for just the two of us to relax and reflect. (Seems funny to say that we’re hoping to have a couple of days alone, when really, we’ve been together 24/7 for 67 days so far. )

Tonight we are staying at a bed and breakfast run by a Chinese couple who immigrated to Canada 31 years ago. They own 3 houses in a row and rent out rooms, which appear to be in high demand. We chatted with them for a while and tomorrow, the woman owner, will show us pictures of her hometown.  We showered (and I actually had the use of a blow dryer!) and wandered downtown, settling on a fusion Thai-Vietnamese restaurant where they served us appetizing and beautifully presented meals.       It felt like a real date. Then we slipped next door to The Pump House Brewery for another drink before walking back, hand-in-hand, to our home-away-from home for tonight.

Surprise! We invited Trish to try our breakfast concoction and she actually said yes!  Charlie prepared 3 bowls of plain raw oatmeal, powdered milk, chopped apple, Harvest Crunch and yogurt. She said she wanted “to try what was fuelling our trip across Canada”, and she said it was delicious! Trish had actually hoped to be asleep this morning. She has a nasty cough and has had multiple rounds of antibiotics with no positive response. She has now been prescribed something with a narcotic to suppress her cough and help her sleep. She needs to get over this as she is awaiting surgery for a different reason. Unfortunately, she was wide awake all night despite taking her medication.

We asked her what route we should take today and she said she’d done part of highway 105 and it was pretty flat. Deciding to give it a try, we set off. 

It WAS flat! We sped along at a great clip, enjoying the ride. Before long though I told Charlie I was hungry. I wasn’t feeling totally well. I had a bit of a headache and felt dehydrated. Happily we stumbled upon an out-of the-way little country market/ antique shop/ restaurant called Casey’s.    Breakfast special of 2 eggs, bacon, ham,or sausage, hash browns and toast for $5.25. “Yes, please, and coffee too please when you get the time.” Charlie said he didn’t want any because we’d already eaten but he gave in. It was just what I wanted and what my body seemed to need because I felt much better soon after the meal. And if second breakfasts work for hobbits, then……

Highway 105 dead ended at Jemseg and we exited onto the TransCanada highway. Nice wide, smooth shoulders. Hills, yes, but long and gradual. Doable. Again we were exposed to the relentless sunshine, but it was all in all, a very nice ride.

Arriving at the Irving truck stop, we went in to check out their restaurant menu but learned that the restaurant had closed and there was only a little take-out spot now. We built our lunch there with food we already had, Charlie sprawled on the grass for a nap and I got a coffee, blogged and read. I woke him up an hour and a half later. “Charlie, you’re in the sun. You have to move. You have to get into the shade.” He stirred, pushed himself forward a couple of feet, then fell back asleep. “No, Charlie, you have to move further than that. You can’t lie there in the sun.” By then he was fully awake. He groaned and stretching, sat up. I had found out about a campground just down the way, not more than 2 km.

Never trust a non-cyclist’s perception of distance, terrain or elevation! That 2km turned into 13 extra km! And there were really no signs. We saw a woman sitting outside her home and stopped to ask directions of her. It was 1 km away, but she wasn’t sure if they sold food.Maybe hot dogs. There was a canteen though. She hustled into her kitchen and came back, insisting we take a can of Zoodles and a can of Chunky Soup.

The campsite is very popular with the RV set. There’s a sign at the entrance advising, “Please drive with caution. Seniors and Children Playing!” Many, if not most of the RV’s appear to be permanently stationed there, with decks, gardens,  and patio lanterns. Stopping at the office to register, our concerns were confirmed. No real food. One last bag of hot dog buns but no hot dogs. Mustard. Chips, pop, marshmallows. Becel margarine. Surprise candy bags. Nothing real. We bought the buns, then  rode into the wide expanse set aside for tenters. It had full river access, soft grass, picnic tables and fire pits and we were the only people down there. Too bad we had no food to eat at that table. Too far to try to find something elsewhere. 

We set up our tent and prepared to go down for a swim. A golf cart appeared on the far side of the campground and bounced its way across to us. The girl from the campground office had rounded up a package of hot dogs from her grandparents place and a firewood bundle. She dropped them off with us, saying that they were on her and that no, we couldn’t pay her for them. After a delicious long swim/bath (ok, skinny dip) in the river, (we were surprised by a tour boat that passed us by, loaded with people all discreetly looking the other way) we started up the fire with one try, roasted the hot dogs, topped them with Zoodles, shared a spoon for  ​​chunky soup and sat around the fire.  ​​​

​The sun went down, the fire smouldered out and the stars, with nothing around to compete with their brilliance, the stars, oh the stars, shone down all around us.

“It’s easy enough to be happy,  

When life flows along like a song,

But the girl worthwhile,

Is the one who can smile,

When everything goes dead wrong!!!!       

That was what my grade 5 teacher, Mrs Oglavie, wrote on the back of my class picture at the end of the year. Somehow I still remember it.

I did smile today, albeit through clenched teeth.        

It was a beautiful morning. The rain, forecasted for the night before,  had passed us by and the tent was dry;  quick and easy to pack up.  We had pitched our tent beside a grocery store, steps away from Tim Hortons. The night before we had eaten some canned food we’d purchased in the grocery store at a sit-down area within the store. Then we’d gone into Tim’s and ordered our usual; mint tea for Charlie and coffee for me. We’d nursed them for a while, catching up on emails and blogs, me sulking a bit. One by one people drifted in, everyone very social, laughing and joking, talking about their families, their jobs….  A community. People just need other people in their /our lives. It turns out that this group of people gather here, at Tim’s every night after supper and have, for years.          

When it started to get dark Charlie and I mounted our bikes and rode the 200 metres to where we planned to spend the night. We have it down to a science and an art now; the tent was up in minutes, the thermarests inflated, the sleeping bags spread out. One of the men who we had met at Tim’s came around the corner, wished us luck for the rest of our trip and handed Charlie $10 because he “wanted to buy us tomorrow’s coffee.” How nice! Under the circumstances it would have been awkward to refuse, so Charlie just accepted it with thanks. We slipped into the grocery store, one at a time to wash and clean our teeth. Another wash….. better than nothing but I desperately wanted a shower and clean clothes. Nothing could be done about it so…….I had to get over it  and get some sleep.           

Most of the time things are better in the morning. 

We discussed our route options for the day. We could take the TransCanada highway from Hartland all the way to Frederickton. Or, we could continue to follow the Scenic River Valley Trail, highway 105. The TransCanada was longer and there would be more traffic. The Scenic River Valley Trail looked to follow the river. Traffic would be lighter and it would be more scenic, right? Let’s go that way!

Wrong decision. It started out well enough but just when we were far enough to be truly committed , the pavement started to buckle and heave. We have no idea how scenic it was; every bit of our attention was focused on that few metres ahead of our front wheels. Hill after hill we climbed, seemingly without end, contending in addition, with blazing sun and blasting heat.  

New Brunswick is stingey with their road signs. They are very few and far between and when they do appear, there are no kilometres noted to the destinations .  Charlie and I only want to do about 100km per day now. Anything longer than that is just too much with this poor pavement and the heat, so we try to plan our days to fit that goal. We were being hosted that evening by Trish, a “Warmshowers” member and we had offered to make her a meal when we got there, by our estimate, around 5:30. We thought we’d even have time to go for a coffee before going to her place. So, after we had done 70km we were utterly dismayed to see a sign indicating that Frederickton was another 65 km of bucking bronco back roads. I wanted to just throw myself in a heap and cry but we kept going and going. Eventually we came to another sign. At this point I had walked up a few hills pushing my bike. I had lost all my drive, all my determination. This new sign said Frederickton was 29km away. I told Charlie that we needed to call Trish, apologize and cancel for tonight. It was past 5:30 by now and we still had quite far to go under these conditions .  We continued a bit further. There was an ice cream parlour on the edge of a little town. Charlie went to ask questions. The two people we spoke with said that the road into Frederickton from this point on was pretty flat. I sighed and told Charlie that I needed to have some ice cream first and then I would give it a try.      

We got in around 8pm.        

Trish Mooney   is a vivacious, free-spirited young woman nearing her 50’s who looks at least a decade younger. She lives alone save for her gorgeous golden cat, Sawyer. I wish I’d taken a picture of him because he’s exceptionally handsome and apparently an admirable mouse hunter. Trish works for the department of health full time but has a wide variety of other interests. She’s crafty, artsy, and economical, a do-it-yourselfer, a gardener, an experimenter. If we lived close by, we’d be friends. Her house is quirky but colourful and comfortable. A one time she dropped a heavy object into her bathroom sink, shattering it, and she then tiled and grouted it using two kinds of grout by mistake. The result is far more interesting than the intention would have been.  She offered us some pickled fiddlehead ferns that she’d put by herself. The salad was all from her garden. She turned her garage into an art/crafts studio. No need for parking space. Trish has never learned to drive. This garage/studio is where her “Warmshowers” guests are invited to stay. It’s perfect. Clean and airy, there are pads on the floor in an exercise area and that’s where we unfurled our sleeping bags.  

We melted in showers, washing away days of sweat, sunscreen and road dirt and threw our clothing into the washing machine. Oh delight! To be clean again and to have clean clothes! Charlie and I combined our talents and whipped up spaghetti and meat sauce. Amazing how much better we both felt after showering, eating a meal and rehydrating with water and beer, all the while talking and enjoying getting to know Trish. The day ended well, but it truly was one of my most difficult ones on this trip.

Retiring to our art studio/garage/bedroom, Charlie and I were asleep in minutes.

Thank you Trish, for welcoming us in to your home. We appreciate all you did for us!

I’m a bit sulky today. Yes, I admit it. It’s one of those days. They’re pretty rare, which is good for everyone around me and for me as well, as I really do have to live with myself.

I awoke from sleeping in a tent ( for the second night in a row)  with a suitcase under my left eye. Not a bag. No, a giant puffy suitcase. Something bit me last night under my eye. Tonight at just past 8pm it’s still there.  It’s not itchy and it’s not permanent either, I know, but it bothers me that it’s there. 

I’m dirty. It’s 3 days since I’ve had a shower. I have a shower every single day and often a second one when I get home from work. I’ve slathered sunscreen all over myself every day. Oh, I have a good wash every night before putting on my (dirty) sleeping shorts and top but it’s not like taking a shower and washing my hair.  All my clothes are also dirty. I haven’t done laundry since Geri and Les’s home and that was ages ago. Whenever we stay in a hotel I hand wash everything but it’s been 3 nights! I’m wearing the same stuff!! 

My bike is not working properly.  The derailer won’t enable me to use either the mid or large sized sprockets. I guess that was ok today because we had hill after hill over super crappy pavement.  There’s no bike shop here in Hartland. There is one listed in Woodstock, NB, on the internet but their phone number has been disconnected. That’s not a good sign. I may end up having to hobble through all the way to Fredericton. 

We are camping again tonight. The only hotel in this little town is full. You can envision how excited I am about this. It’s cold again tonight and I just heard; it might rain!

Charlie is bugging me too because he’s so keen, so chipper and so positive about camping and saving money. 

Other than that, today was ok. Cool to start but eventually it warmed up. We rode into Grand Falls yesterday,    checked out he Falls then, because Charlie had heard there was a Big Stop truck stop back 3 or 4 km from town, we backtracked to go to it. He was envisioning quantity not quality food. In my head I sang : “Mr Bigstop, Who do you think you are, Mr Bigstop, you’re never gonna get my love, Mr Bigstop…..” all the way there and for several hours again this morning. 

Hills. As I said before, we had many hills before us today. These tended to be long, slow hills. We stayed on the Scenic Valley Trail all day, passing towns like Perth-Andover, Florenceville-Bristol, to Hartland. There are many farms, most growing potatoes. There’s a huge McCain plant between St Andre and Grand Falls and then another, even bigger, the original McCains in Florenceville.  That town’s claim to fame is “World’s French Fry Capital”.    There is part of the TransCanada Trail running from Florenceville to Hartland. It’s in terrible condition. We tried it out but left it on our first opportunity.

Hartland is famous for having the “World’s longest covered bridge”. I can see it from here but tomorrow we will cross it. Florenceville has one too but it’s much shorter.  

 Dinner was at a local grocery store. They had an area where people could microwave and eat their food and that’s what we did. Nuking our Stagg hot chili made all the difference.

I am losing it. I need to sleep and soon. Goodnight. I’ll be happier in the morning.

My sleeping bag got its first real test last night. It was cold when we camped last night; the temperature was in the single digits. Before we left on this trip I bought a Hotcore bag that claimed to be good to minus 21 degrees Celcius. That should be good enough for summer in Canada, I thought. Actually, I was mostly concerned about getting across the Rockies. The weather there, especially in May and early June can be so unpredictable. We’ve done the MS bike ride many times in June and have endured everything from rain, hail, sleet, snow, electrical storms, extreme cold, blasting heat and on two occasions, really beautiful conditions. So I wanted to be prepared. Most nights thus far, that I’ve slept in the liner on top of the bag but last night I cosied right into it and it was great! Charlie slept well too. 

Setting up camp is always easier than tearing it down in the morning. Just one of the many reasons why I’m not a raving camping enthusiast. We got it done though. Fortunately it was dry during the night and the condensation dried rapidly in the sunshine.  

Our destination today was Grand Falls, or, in French, Grand Sault, New Brunswick, about 100km away. Now that we’re nearing our destination we are allowing ourselves a little more time to relax. No more 130km days, I hope. Still we have to be in Sackville, NB by this Friday as the Sackville Tribune wants to interview the legendary Charlie Hunter, former Dean of Students. Charlie says they must be short of newsworthy stories and it will be right up there with the articles about who’s playing bridge with who.

Beautiful ride again today. We continued on the Petit Temis towards Edmunston, NB.  Once again it was on gravel roads but it was easy. Being a former rail line, the maximum grade was 4%. The route finished at Edmunston and from there we were on highway 144, which is part of the Transcanada bike trail. Some hills but generally really nice shoulders. There are signs that indicate we are on River Valley Scenic Drive, and this is where they grow fiddlehead ferns.  

We reached two milestones today! One was crossing from Quebec into New Brunswick and the other was that the odometer recorded 6000km today! We go by Charlie’s odometer because my old one went kaput in Salmon Arm and I had to replace it. I never did add on the km I’d already done from Sooke to Salmon Arm. We celebrated with a Cliff bar and a banana!  

After lunch, which we ate under a shady tree on the front lawn of an absentee homeowner, it was an easy ride to Grand Falls. We went down to check them out and were surprised at how very ungrand Grand Falls is. Then we saw the sign that explains how the falls, wild and powerful in the spring are diminished later in the  summer, the flow diverted to a power plant nearby. 

Coffee please! I’m presently getting my fix while Charlie is talking to his brother Jol and our sister-in-law, Maura. Their oldest son, Matt, would like to join us for part of the ride near Sackville, NB. Matt is amazing! He was born with Down Syndrome but he has evolved into a super athlete. He has competed in swimming competitions in the Paraolympics and Special Olympics in different parts of the world. Nova Scotia newspapers regularly feature stories about Matt and he was once on Rick Mercer, showing him, (Rick), how to do push-ups. He runs, cross-country skis and is presently preparing for a triathlon. Matt lives in a group home now, his parents helping to promote his independence as much as possible, while still supporting him and his athletic pursuits. Really, Matt is the man he is because of his parents. They have been there for him but they have encouraged him to go out and live! Oh, and he also holds down 2 or 3 jobs! Way to go Matt!!!! You are a champion and we really hope to ride with you!

Charlie has his hopes on a restaurant called the “Big Stop.” He says it’s not quality food but it’s known for quantity, and that’s right up his alley. So, unfortunately we have to go backwards a bit to get to it. He thinks he should have fish and chips in each of the Atlantic Provinces. And we are now in an Atlantic province! Amazing!