Progress to date: 27 days, 1,196 miles

Throughout this trip, when we tell people we're going to cycle the Gaspé Peninsula, they first exclaim how beautiful it is. Then they go on about the hills and wind. We nod politely and say “yeah, we know.” But do we?

We are finally within striking distance. The day before yesterday, we could see the peninsula across Chaleur Bay. It was our first glimpse. “See those high ridges over there?” Rich says. It was enough to send us scurrying to pull up topographical maps of the area, scouring them for the imposition of height on roadway. The first part looks all right, actually. There appears to be enough flatter land between the hills and the coast for a road to squeak through. That's our road. Out toward the end, near the town of Gaspé we know there are cliffs and hills will be unavoidable. The question is only how soon we will encounter them.

I have another niggling concern in the back of my mind. Cold. Already the mornings are chillier and the wind crisper. We've been extremely fortunate with the weather so far. In fact Rich would say it's been too hot. But with September nearly upon us, and traveling in a northerly direction, I can see only one outcome. Brrrr! Once again, we have yet to learn how much cooler it will get, and I can only hope the small arsenal of cold weather clothing scrunched into my panniers will be sufficient.

More than one person has told us we're going the “wrong direction.” With the prevailing winds out of the west, we'll be facing smack into them all the way down the St. Lawrence Seaway. Well, wouldn't we get them one way or another heading out to the end at Gaspé and back? That's my reasoning. I'll cling to that to get me through.

The timing of our travels is such that it has us heading around the Gaspé Peninsula in Septermber. Apparently it shuts down in October, and many places begin to close in September. For a sparsely populated area where lodging and restaurants may be spread far apart already, that could be a challenge. That's why we're carrying camping equipment. Perhaps we'd better replenish our supply of bagels and peanutbutter.

Despite all that, I'm not just looking ahead but looking forward to Gaspé. It's the namesake of our Grand Gaspé Tour, and to me it has always felt like the pinnacle of our adventure. It's what makes this an audacious trip. Getting there and seeing the scenery will be all the sweeter for all the effort involved in the process.

Tomorrow afternoon we will leave New Brunswick and enter the province of Quebec. And head out the Gaspé Peninsula. No more looking ahead. We'll be living it.

Since leaving Prince Edward Island, we've slowed down our pace. We discovered we had not been faithful enough in taking our rest days, and it was catching up with us. So we cut back on our miles, took some time off to relax, and are taking our time following the Acadian Coastal Drive up the coast of New Brunswick. With bright sunny skies and warm days, it's been very easy to stop and enjoy the sights along the way. Oh, and we've been more attentive to fitting in our daily ice cream stops as well!

I think pictures tell the story the best:

Confederation Bridge from PEI - longest bridge in the world, required a shuttle ride

View from our motel room on Indian Point - very peaceful

The Acadian Coastal Drive!

Rich conquers the world's largest lobster!

Molly pauses alongside a bay

Rich, the bird photographer

Boardwalk over the dunes at Bouctouche

Molly found a new ice cream treat - soft serve with Oreo!

We also spent a wonderful afternoon and evening with Warm Showers hosts Charles and Marthe. They whisked us off to Kouchibouguac National Park where we walked the pristine and uncrowded sand beach on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. It was a treat to see the park, as we would not have ventured that far off our route, and it was clearly worth the visit. Charles is an avid cyclist and he and Marthe have big plans for a post-retirement tour next year, so we had plenty of fodder for conversation. We haven't been as well fed as we were in less than 24 hours at their house – we were amazed what we could consume when such good home made food was graciously put in front of us! Our send-off included Charles' signature lobster omelettes, and great advice on local roads and a bike shop, which proved invaluable.

Marthe, Charles and Rich walking Kellys Beach at the National Park

Charles accompanying us at the start of our ride in the morning

We're rather liking this new pace, especially as it encourages us to see more along the way. But with 1,100 miles still to go, we can't dilly dally too long.

Progress to Date: 22 days, 1011 miles

We've hit 1,000 miles for the Grand Gaspé Cycling Tour! It feels like a significant and particularly gratifying milestone. We've also been away from home for four weeks, and cycling for over three. Time to take a temperature check on our bodies and state of mind!

Our Bodies

Physical fitness: Despite three weeks of repeated cycling, we still feel strong. We continue to mount our bikes each day ready to ride. We haven't necessarily been good at taking rest days, and that began to take its toll. A few days ago, my thighs began to complain each time I started up until I got going. And my body was tired. Rich's legs were “toast” in his words, and he was moving slowly. We ordered up a rest day and vowed to repeat it more regularly in the future.

Cycling challenges: So far we've been able to handle the cycling regime. Steep hills are tough, as are strong headwinds, but it's just a matter of pushing through them. Rich did draw the line at going over to the outer coast of Nova Scotia – he didn't think he was up to climbing up and over the ridge line. So we followed more moderate terrain (for Nova Scotia).

Health: Okay, truth be told, we haven't scored as well on this front (pun intended). Rich caught a bug in the very beginning of the trip that plagued him for a couple of weeks. It zapped his strength, left him in fits of coughing, and caused him to lay low in Acadia National Park. Just abut the time he hit 95% healthy again, I succombed to his malady. Continued cycling hasn't helped our recovery much. But we did make concessions on our lodging choices, trading a poor night's sleep in a tent for a real bed in a motel a few times. Hopefully all that will soon be behind us.

Our minds

Missing home? Not really. It sounds kind of cold and hard when put that way, but we're living in the moment and thoroughly enjoying our experiences. There is nothing at home that could top this.

Missing family? Of course. There is nothing I'd like more than to hug my grandkids. Or gather with one or all of our kids. I hate missing some traditional family events while we're gone. But two months in the grand scheme of things is a small period of time to devote to this trip of a lifetime. So we do our best to keep in touch by email, Facebook and eek out a phone call when we can.

Tired of traveling? Not at all. There is still so much to see.

Still talking to each other? Mostly. Our biggest disagreements are over where to eat (Molly: healthy, local and a nice setting; Rich: food when he finds it), and when and how long to linger along the way, including scenic detours. Other than that, we're still good traveling buddies.

What do we miss most? Molly: Healthy home made food. Fresh fruit and hearty bread with raisins. Good coffee, even better, a latte. Rich: Having an occasional lazy morning.

What don't we miss? Our wardrobes. Having no clothes choices makes life very simple. And nobody else knows we've worn the exact same clothes every other day of our trip.

Our Equipment

Rich: 2 flat tires, fixed en route. Lost 1 pair of socks.

Molly: Gears out of adjustment and repaired. Rear view mirror flopping; electrical tape a mediocre repair job.

Overall, I'd say we've passed this check-up with flying colors. And we're ready for the next 1,000 miles!

Progress to date: 21 days, 941 miles

Getting on our bikes day after day. Cycling everywhere. Limited to just what we can fit into our panniers. After almost 1,000 miles, I can give you a small peek into our world of travel.

Probably the biggest piece of reality that I've had to face is that we can't do it all. Not even this Energizer Bunny can reach all the same sights that you can in a car. I thought I was being practical when I chose just the eastern shore of Prince Edward Island to hug the coast. But I had to settle for a small portion of it if we were going to see anything else on the island. Seeing everything up close means seeing less overall. It's not a bad thing. I just had to wrap my brain around it.

Tour books and information signs are meant for car travelers. And directions from locals have to be interpreted with a degree of skepticism. “Just down the road” rarely really is. What's a short detour in a car is a major side trip on a bike. Distances are significant at 12mph. It means we don't veer off our route much. So much for those craft stores “over there.” But then again, we don't have any spare room in our panniers, nor do we want any extra weight. So shopping is a moot point. It's rather liberating, really.

That bring us to food. Rich's adage is “If you see food, eat.” He's right, really. You can never count on finding something up ahead. We've leaned that lesson the hard way. One morning we hit the jackpot. Spotting signs for a home bakery, we stepped into a kitchen filled with goodies. Leaving with handfuls of baked goods each, we stretched out on the grass to consume them on the spot and sugared our way through the next few miles.

It's those spontaneous personal experiences that are one of the best parts of cycling. Having depleted his water bottles in the heat and headwinds yesterday, Rich stopped at a house where an elderly man was out in his yard. Not only did the man provide cold water from his fridge for refills, he also dispensed sage advice. “You're going the wrong way, young man,” he said with a twinkle. “Gaspé is the other direction. Going with the wind!” That exchange powered Rich's legs for the next few miles!

Most stops we make are fairly short. It's hard to get going again after stopping too long, as our legs stiffen up. And we lose our momentum. At times it makes me feel like all we are doing is moving from point A to point B. So I have to consciously focus on making sure we don't just cycle by interesting places. And I have to remind Rich, “I want to see this town, not just cycle through it.”

Nice view for our rest day

After leaving our cycling buddies in Maine, we have only a loose itinerary and make detailed travel plans only a day or two ahead. That gives us a lot of flexibility, which is a mixed bag… On one hand, we can now plan around the weather. Rather than repeat our long slog through the rain of a couple weeks ago, we swapped our rest day to coincide with the forecast for rain. It's a lot more pleasant that way. On the other hand, it leaves our route open to interpretation. Invariably, I set my sights on the more aggressive itinerary. Predictably, Rich weighs in on the practical side. Compromise is not always easy.

Would we change anything? Absolutely not. Despite the realities, we're still sold on cycle touring. Good thing, as we're not even half way through the Grand Gaspé Tour yet.

Our route: Red = cycling on bike trail, Orange = cycling on roads

Little did we know when we set out to cycle on Prince Edward Island, that an extensive trail system for cyclists was awaiting us. The demise of the railroad on PEI in 1989 presented the opportunity to establish what is now 357 kilometers of bike trail along the abandoned rail beds. Known as the Confederation Trail, it stretches across the entire island and is still growing as new offshoots continue to be added. We covered only a small portion of the trail, but relished every mile (ah, make that kilometer – we are in Canada, after all).

The obvious advantage of the cycling trail is the lack of cars. Although traffic is light on PEI, it's still a danger. And traveling on a dedicated path is so much quieter and more relaxing. In fact, we saw few other cyclists on the trail – it was like having our own private route through the countryside. It does come at a price, however. The trails are not paved, and the surface ranged from hard packed dirt to soft shifty crushed rock to grassy in the lesser used patches. I find it a lot harder going on these surfaces than the paved roads. But apart from having to swallow my pride as I fell behind Rich on the trail, it was well worth the extra effort.

Each intersection with a road involves a gate across the path on either side. I understand the logic of leaving the gates only partially open, to discourage non-bicycles from using the trail. However, it leaves the cyclist with the challenge of frequently navigating these narrow sideways openings. Rich calls it the ancient art of gate threading. Eventually I got the hang of it, going through without stopping!

Molly gate threading!

Since the trail travels through the center of the island, it precludes following the coastline. So we did venture away from the trail when we needed our fix of water and harbor views. And in some inland areas not serviced by the trail, we followed local roads from town to town. It didn't take long to discover that PEI is not exactly as flat as we thought, as we found ourselves grinding up tough uphills! We soon leaned to use the trail whenever possible. In addition to its gentler grade, it also sheltered us from sun and wind. A big advantage.

Perhaps it wasn't entirely kosher, but we did enjoy the fruits of the trail as well – literally. One fine morning we feasted of crisp fresh apples and an abundance of blackberries as we passed through one well endowed section of the trail. Oh yum!

PEI National Park offers another 50 kilometers of cycling trail. This is a paved trail that hugs the northern coast in the park. Cycling that portion soon became one of my favorite experiences of our whole trip so far. With continual views of cliffs, dunes and sandy shore, it was a feast for the eyes as we breezed along.

Cycling the Gulfshore Way in PEI National Park

Rich and other touring cyclists

Not surprisingly, PEI's trails attract touring cyclists. While camping at the National Park, we happened upon a woman from the Netherlands and a couple from Ottawa traveling by bicycle. Having all headed to the little fish and chips shack down the road, we shared a small outdoor table for dinner and compared notes on our travels. We loved hearing their adventures, strategies and approach to cycle touring. And we all agreed, PEI is a great place to do it.

Prince Edward Island, or PEI as it is commonly called, wasn't even on our original itinerary. But it has been a most worthwhile addition. First, it is quite flat. That makes Rich really, really happy. And I can't say I mind. With a population of only about 145,000 on the whole island, it has a quiet and uncrowded feel. There aren't even many tourists. It's extremely rural, with beautiful pastoral farm scenery inland and frequent water views when cycling near the coast. Every mile we bike provides us with an eyeful.

I came on this trip looking for coastline, cliffs and lighthouses. PEI has delivered on all accounts. Let's start with the harbor towns. With an active fishing industry, there is no shortage of picturesque inlets filled with boats. These are some of my favorite views. I love the colorful display of the working boats, often right alongside the splendor of pleasure craft. Even the worn working sheds on the edge of the harbor exude a certain rough charm.

Murray Harbor fishing boats

Boats in the evening light in Montague

Fishing shacks in Georgetown

As for coastline, PEI offers something for everyone. I found my cliffs on the north side of the island. As promised, they were a definite red color, due to the iron oxide that coats the sandstone surfaces there. They showed up in sharp contrast with the blue of the water. Surprisingly, tall undulating sand dunes and long stretches of fine sand beach can be found in the same area. All of this resides within Prince Edward Island National Park, which quickly earned a spot on our “best of” list.

Molly and cliffs in the National Park

Walking the beach in the National Park

Sand dunes at Cavendish Beach

One of the first sights we visited on the island was Cape Bear Lighthouse. We learned that it was the first land station to receive the distress call for the Titanic. I loved finding it at the end of a quiet lane, unassuming and tucked away from view until we rounded the corner. We soon found that its signature white and red decor was repeated many times around the island.

Walking the beach in the National Park

Covehead lighthouse

As a bonus, we enjoyed a number of beautiful sunrises and sunsets around the island. What's not to love about that?

Montague harbor as we cycled away in the early morning light

Sunset at Stanhope Beach in the Park

Sunrise at Stanhope Beach