Our progress to date: 13 days, 575 miles

Arriving on the ferry, as the hills of Nova Scotia materialized out of the fog, it was one of those “pinch me” moments. Was I really about to arrive in Nova Scotia? Yes!

We arbitrarily decided to cycle from our landing point in Digby up to Annapolis Royal, merely based on it being a reasonable distance to complete following our afternoon arrival. But it turned out to be a fortuitous choice. Annapolis Royal is an historic town, dating back to 1605, and they have done a marvelous job of preserving the old buildings in town. We found a nice B&B for the night and proceeded on a lovely walk through town. The fog had lifted, leaving behind a clear sky and the glow that comes with the evening sunlight. We've come to enjoy a cold hard cider after a day of cycling, and were able to enjoy their local variety at a pub where we had dinner.

Rich enjoying a cold cider

A clear sunny day greeted us the next morning and we took the opportunity to circle through town again before breakfast. We visited Fort Anne, which we learned was involved in 13 battles and changed hands 7 times between the English and the French over the course of two centuries. Bathed in the morning light, the carefully restored grounds were quiet and magical on the banks of the bay.

Fort Anne

Molly about to shoot a cannon?

View of Annapolis Royal

Leaving the B&B

Our route for the day took us through the Annapolis Valley, which is a narrow 8k wide swath sandwiched between two high ridges. As such, is it surprisingly flat and fertile, hosting farmland, orchards and even vineyards. With a strong south wind pushing us along, we fairly flew through the countryside. After hearing about how hilly and challenging the cycling is in Nova Scotia, this was quite the happy surprise! Rich was in his element. I love the hills, but they are definitely not his thing. We both relished the speed and ease of cycling today, as the warm sunshine poured down on us. Something tells me we won't see that again on this island…

The valley was also populated by frequent little towns. They all seemed to be more affluent and prosperous than the towns in New Brunswick, with old houses well preserved, beautiful churches and picturesque main streets. I decided that the little population centers added a great deal of interest to the countryside for a cyclist.

Two friendly cows

Roadside flowers by the Annapolis River

A small town en route

It's no accident that we followed a moderate route today. But the scenery, sunshine and tailwinds were a definite bonus. I'd say that Nova Scotia has given us quite a good welcome.

P.S. Rich seems to have turned the corner on his crud and is feeling much better. I got my bike repaired in St. John and it is now humming smoothly again in all gears. Our sense of well being has been restored!

We knew that not every moment of cycling would be great. We knew that some days would be downers. Perhaps we should have heeded the signs. Our first sight from the tent this morning was a red sunrise. You know what they say…”Red sky at morning, sailers take warning.” I think it applies to cyclists as well.

For starters, Rich has been battling a cough and cold for a week. Three nights in a tent didn't help matters, and by this morning his eyes were ringed with red. Between the hacking and his visual appearance, he was a convincing invalid. I was fighting my own battles. The derailers on my bike were acting up and my frustration level was rapidly rising. Lacking a bike shop in any towns we've passed through, I began to envision cycling 2,000 miles with slipping gears. Having the chain come off completely as we rushed to catch the ferry didn't help. We both hit a low as we boarded.

There was a dense morning fog that enveloped the ferry as we crossed back to the mainland. It stayed with us for the remainder of the day, and created a quandary. Should we take the scenic detour down to the coast? It meant extra miles and most likely hillier terrain, but it would be a respite from the highway and supposedly offered beautiful views. We went for it. But it was clearly a dud. The tide was out and the fog was in, obliterating any glimpse of the water. Worse yet, we had not found any food options since breakfast. As the miles mounted up, so did our hunger. And that really dampens the mood.

It was the Flintstones that turned the day around. Or their cars at least. Sitting in the front yard of a house they were too good to pass by without a photo opp. In fact, Rich confirmed they were a valid “purple cow” – his term for a unique and usually slightly crazy sight. The detour was suddenly worth it and the day seemed brighter.

Our good humor restored, we pressed on toward St. John. Having passed numerous deer signs, we took particular pleasure in seeing our first moose sign in that part of Canada. Things were definitely looking up. Good thing it doesn't take much to entertain us.

A clean motel room, a delicious dinner of local scallops, and ice cream treats acquired on our circuit through the grocery store were great mood lifters as well. The prospect of a good night's sleep for Rich and an appointment at a bike shop in the morning for me have worked wonders. I think we are on the upswing.

It’s been in the planning stages for months.  I’ve alluded to it in several previous posts.  It’s only just over a month away.  So I think it’s time to elaborate on our plans for our most extensive cycling trip yet – The Grand Gaspé Tour.

This trip is Rich’s brain child.  That’s nothing new, he plans most of our adventures.  But the sheer magnitude of this one makes it unique.

The inspiration is his missed opportunity to take a college graduation trip.  While his friends piled into old cars to cruise the USA, Rich dove right into work at his first job.  It’s a decision he came to regret, and one he expects to rectify with this trip.  Having taken all three of our children on graduation trips when they finished college, now it’s Rich’s turn.

Our route through Maine, New Brunswick, the Gaspé Peninsula, Quebec City and New Hampshire

Since we are now both retired, we have plenty of time.  Rich took that concept literally and dreamed up a 2-month, 2,000 mile trip through the Canadian Maritimes.  When he proposed it, I jumped right on board.  After all, it combined my passion for fitness and love of travel.

The idea is to take small roads and hug the coastline as closely as possible, taking in the stunning scenery. It must be our Duluth upbringing – we just can’t get enough of coastline and water views.  We will also visit Quebec City for the first time.

For the first week our son, Carl, and my high school friend, Myra, will be cycling with us as we travel up the cost of Maine.  That week is well scripted, with reservations already in place at small motels along the way.  We plan to spend an extra day in Acadia National Park, and reach the border of Canada by the week’s end.

From there on, we’re on our own.  And it’s all virgin territory.  We’ve never cycled with such an open agenda and flexibility before.  We know that if we maintain our normal pace, doing about 60 miles a day, we could complete the route in under 6 weeks, even taking one rest day per week.  But the idea isn’t to just cover the miles.  We have enough extra time to allow spontaneous side trips.  If we like a place, we can stay longer.  If the weather turns rotten, we can wait it out.  Even our end date is loose – we can extend that too, if we choose.

Some of our kids keep wondering just why we’d want to do this.  Who in their right minds would  spend two months on a bicycle with only the contents of their paniers?   We just smile and nod, looking forward to the challenge and seeing the countryside up close, at cycling pace.

So come August and September that’s where we’ll be.  On the Grand Gaspé Tour.  You can’t miss us.  We’ll be the ones sporting the lighthouses.