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

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.