Loving Prince Edward Island

Posted on August 21, 2013 by Molly

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

A Day in the Life of Cyclists

Posted on August 18, 2013 by Molly

Progress to Date: 16 days, 750 miles

We've been at this Grand Gaspé Cycling Tour for just over two weeks now. We've developed a certain rhythm to our days, established some routines, set a few ground rules, and acquired a taste for specific treats along the way. So what is it like to cycle an average of 60 miles a day?

Up with the sun! Well, not quite, but we are early risers. We like to get on the road early for several reasons. Rich can't tolerate the heat, so he prefers to get in as many cool miles as possible. And the early morning light is beautiful, showing off the scenery at its best. We are happy when we can start cycling by 7am.

To get rolling sometimes requires breaking camp – packing up the sleeping bags and tent when we've been camping. Oddly enough, we seem to be able to assemble ourselves more quickly on those mornings than when we are trying to retrieve our goods strewn around a motel room.

Breakfast! We like to get 20 miles under our belt before stopping for breakfast. By that time we've worked up a good hunger and are ready for a hearty meal. While I crave sitting in a coffee shop with a latte, Rich requires a full bacon and eggs type breakfast. Given the calories we blow through, I see his logic. And I will admit to being able to polish off a huge pile of blueberry pancakes and eggs. The trickiest part of that plan is trying to find that humble breakfast cafe. Time and again we set our sights on a likely town, only to find it devoid of breakfast places. Some days it turns into lunch before we find food – we're pretty crabby and hungry by then. I try to keep bagels and peanutbutter in my bag just for such cases.

Push, Pedal and Pull! That's pretty much it for the day. We follow our planned route, with our intended destination in mind. The pace depends on the hills, the time of day, miles traveled, food consumption and the hills. Oh, and did I mention the hills? Rich is strongest first thing in the morning, right after eating, and when the end is in sight. I am a bit slower on start-up, working out the kinks after stops, but once up to speed I tend to be more steady all day long. When I comes to those hills, there is no contest. I roar up them and Rich whizzes down.

Stop! We're both allowed reasons to stop. Photo opps are probably the most frequent. Seeing the world at 12mph means noticing things that we'd miss from a car. Scenery, interesting sights, a promising side road are all valid excuses to pause and spend some time along the way. So is ice cream. That's one of the requirements each afternoon.

Ah, we're done! We like to reach our destination by mid afternoon. Rich usually has already researched motels and campgrounds, so we have a starting point. But all does not always go as planned. Last night we hoped for a motel room. But the nearest was another 18k down the road. We camped instead.

Once settled in, our first priority is a shower. Then, like it or not, doing laundry. We're on the wear-one, wash-one system for our biking clothes which means constantly washing things out. But it means less to carry. Chores done, we hope for a good internet connection. Believe it or not, even campgrounds often have wifi! It's our lifeline to family and the outside world, and we crave time for email, blogging, and admittedly Facebook. It's also our source for maps, travel info and detailed planning for the following day.

Night life! Not really. We're usually eager to have dinner on the early side, and try to pick lodging near restaurants or food shops. At the end of the day, we prefer walking to cycling. I enjoy trying out the local cuisine – in this case, lots of seafood. And a tall glass of cold hard cider tastes really, really good.

Finalizing the next day's plans, writing blog posts and doing some reading round out our evening before we conk out. After all, morning will come quickly, and we get to do it all over again.

Day Tripping

Posted on August 17, 2013 by Molly

Having reached Wolfville in Nova Scotia, we took our Warm Showers host up on his offer to stay a second night. It seemed the perfect opportunity to do a day trip unencumbered by all our gear. So off we went to Cape Split. It's a long narrow peninsula that juts out into the Minas Basin, off the Bay of Fundy.

With Rich still recovering from his maladies, the aim was to make it a leisurely ride. For the most part we accomplished that. We cycled through more rural farmland and little towns, and kept up a modest pace. The weather continued to favor us with clear sunny skies and a mild wind, which we loved. Passing through the town of Canning, I noticed a cute, carved birdhouse on a power line post. And then another. And another. It seems that each was sponsored by a different business in town.

Or host did alert us to the fact that we would have one major hill in each direction. There was no avoiding the fact that we had to get up and over the major ridge line to reach the coast on the other side. Leaving Canning, we soon faced that climb. For several kilometers we snaked up the hill, curving back and forth only to find yet another steeper section ahead of us! It was grueling, but satisfying to reach the top and know the worst was behind us, and that we'd cycle “up top” for some time before descending again. We also stopped to enjoy the broad panoramic view at Lookoff at the top. It gave us some sense of perspective to see the flat expanse of farmland where we'd started our ride.

On the other side of the ridge, we coasted down to sea level again. There we found quiet homes and farms on the water. It was so peaceful, it seemed their world was totally unhurried or touched by the hustle and bustle of modern life. As we neared the end of the road, the surface deteriorated into a series of potholes and crumbled pavement. Just another good excuse to slow down and putz along.

Nearing the end of the road at Cape Split

To reach the true end of the split required an 8k hike to the tip of the peninsula. Alas, it didn't fit into our day's plan. And we still had to reverse our route over that ridge again. Good thing we weren't toting our packed panniers. It would have spoiled the mood. And just for the record, we did find a humble ice cream stand on the way back. To complete our day trip.

Hello Nova Scotia!

Posted on August 16, 2013 by Molly

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!

The Ups and Downs of Cycle Touring

Posted on August 14, 2013 by Molly

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.

The Angels of Grand Manan

Posted on August 13, 2013 by Molly

I had never heard of Grand Manan Island until my cousin Judy recommended it for our cycling trip. My first hurdle was convincing Rich to add this detour to our trip. But we're both in agreement now – it was well worth the few extra miles of cycling and two days to come here. It didn't hurt that we had a warm sunny day for the ferry trip over from Blacks Harbor and could sit outside and enjoy the view.

Ready to board the ferry

Molly enjoying the top deck of the ferry

Approaching the island, we could see campsites perched on the cliffs. Little did we know that just minutes later, we would be setting up our own tent on that very spot! We had only one word for the location – WOW. The Hole in the Wall Campground is modest and humble, friendly and has the most phenomenal campsites. We had all the view we needed right there. In fact, I saw five meteors and two brilliant red sunrises from right inside our tent. Rich saw seals just offshore, and heard whales breaching during the night. What more could we need?

Campsite views and the Hole in the Wall

Enter the angels. Two young women, Mel and Chantal, took a campsite nearby shortly after we arrived. Heading to the grocery store, which was more than a few miles away, they offered to take us to get groceries. Offer quickly accepted! We soon had the makings for a picnic dinner and breakfast, and were able to reallocate the time we would have spent cycling to the store enjoying our environs instead.

It didn't end there. We were just about to head out on our bikes to explore the island the next morning, when Mel and Chantal came by. They were going to take the ferry over to Whitehead Island. Did we want to come along? Soon Mel was piloting us to the far end of the island. First we went to see the Southwest Head Lighthouse. While that was an unimpressive structure, it was perched on amazing cliffs. The best views were down a short trail which we might never have found on our own.

Cliffs at Southwest Head

Molly at Southwest Head

The small free car ferry took us to a small island with little more than a fishing village and an old lighthouse. We walked to a secluded beach beyond the lighthouse, relishing the solitude and quiet shore. Poking at seaweed, checking out shells, rocks and other sea litter left behind by the tide was all the entertainment we needed.

Fishing boats at Whitehead Island

Lobster traps on the dock

Our angels - Chantal and Mel

Traveling by car certainly allowed us to see more of the islands than we could have covered on our bikes. But it did far more than that. Mel and Chantal were a wealth of information and tidbits about the island, which is a favorite destination for each of them. We shared stories, laughed a lot and enjoyed a day of camaraderie. The scenery was unparalleled and the company unbeatable.

My cousin Judy was right. Grand Manan is a heavenly place. She just didn't know about the angels.

P.S. Mel and Chantal – if you leave a comment, I will send you pictures. I have some good shots of you!

From a Cycling Foursome to a Duo

Posted on August 11, 2013 by Molly

Progress to date: 8 days, 388 miles

Having reached the northernmost border of Maine's coast, we bid a fond farewell to Carl and Myra. With job responsibilities awaiting them, they had to return to the real world. So they loaded their bikes into a U-Haul to return to their starting point and travel home.

Now it's just the two of us for the next two months and cycling through the Canadian Maritimes. This is how we're used to traveling, so there shouldn't be too many surprises. It was the foursome that was unique for us. So how did it go?

It was definitely different, with multiple personalities, needs, speeds and quirks to accommodate. And there's not a weak personality in the bunch. But the camaraderie more than made up for it. There was always someone who could lighten the mood in a tough spot, and conversation never lagged. It was good to have others to inject ideas about our travels, and it kept the experience fresh and less predictable. I also enjoyed the humor they contributed to each day.

In many ways, it went much as I expected from this cast of characters. True to form, after meandering along with the rest of us for a while, Carl's youthful energy would surface. About once a day the urge would strike and he'd surge ahead, rapidly disappearing from sight and leaving the three oldies miles behind. We didn't mind, and had no desire (or ability) to try and keep up. Eventually we'd get a text informing us where to find him, which was inevitably on a deck enjoying a cold beer. Following his libations, he was content to slow down and cycle with us again. Ah, youth!

Rich, Myra and I travelled in a loose pack. Frequently, we'd string out, hoping that each person was keeping track of the one behind them so we didn't lose anyone. Other times we'd stay in a tighter group, trading positions depending on whether we were going uphill or down. When possible, Myra and I cycled close enough together to carry on a conversation, traffic noise permitting.

Meals were interesting, with four very different metabolisms and food preferences. Rich had the need for the most fuel and “real food” cooked and served in restaurants. His pace always picked up significantly after each meal. Myra's food needs were constant. In addition to the cafe stops, she had a steady supply of bagels and other nutritional snacks stashed in her front bag to keep her going. Carl seemed to survive on whatever food stops we made, and I had the smallest appetite of all. I was happiest on the mornings when I could find a coffee shop with a good latte and scones.

When it came to our daily schedule, there were two camps. Rich and are early risers and liked to be up and out on the road as early as possible. Carl had a more relaxed attitude about morning start time, but having grown up with us, he knew enough to stick to the agenda. To Myra, our idea of early was the middle of the night. But there was little to argue against getting an early start when the temperatures were cooler and it was less windy. So most often we won out on that one. The main exception was when we stayed in an old country inn. The homemade muffins with fresh fruit and yogurt promised in the included breakfast was too tempting to miss. But it meant waiting until the excruciatingly late hour of 8:00am to eat before starting for the day. Carl and Myra were thrilled. And I have to admit I enjoyed that civilized start to our morning.

The cycling foursome enjoying a country inn breakfast

We'll miss our cycling buddies. We wish them safe travels home and hope they think of us, still out on the road. Still cycling.

A Soggy Ride

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Molly

We've been extremely lucky on our long distance cycling trips – we've never had to cycle through serious rain. Until today. It was bound to happen, and I'd say we've paid our dues.

We knew going into the day that we were going to get wet. The forecast was for clouds in the morning and thunderstorms in the afternoon. With 75 miles to get from Acadia to our next destination, we would spend significant time on the road. Trying to beat the rain as much as possible, we got an early start. Just not early enough. Barely two miles into our ride, the raindrops began. It wasn't long before it was raining in earnest. Soon it turned into a thunderstorm. So much for weather forecasts. This was the real thing, with lightening flashing overhead and thunder booming. And rain pelting down hard enough to bounce back up off the pavement and turn the road and shoulder into mini rivers. Oh boy.

We forged on for 20 miles before stopping under the broad awning of a home improvement store. Rather belatedly we fished our rain jackets out of our panniers. Even with the mild temperature I was shivering uncontrollably. It didn't help our psyches to stand and watch the rain come down in torrents with rain pouring off the roof in massive streams, knowing we still had 55 miles to go. By then I resolved that I wasn't going to budge until it let up somewhat. I only had so much tolerance.

Miraculously the rain did calm down, a bit. And off we went again. The rain jacket made a huge difference – imagine that! We didn't know it but the worst was behind us. Thankfully. We pressed on, abandoning our plans to stop for a hot breakfast in a cafe en route. Our sites were strictly focused on reaching our dry motel room. We did allow ourselves a snack stop, making the best of the offerings in a gas station convenience store. No latte for me today, but quality was not my top criterium today – the fact that the coffee was hot was good enough for me.

We were cycling machines as we pressed on for the remaining miles. No stops. Not much conversation. No photo opps. We were so focused on finishing that we barely even registered the fact that the rain had lessened significantly. But Mother Nature wasn't done with us yet. With about 5 miles to go the clouds let loose once again, pelting us fiercely.

It was with great relief that we spotted the motel and sought shelter in the office, where we were greeted with astonishment and chuckles over our day's journey. Dripping wet and giddy to be finished, we happily consumed chocolate kisses from the candy bowl and enjoyed the humorous banter. Juggling extra towels on our gear, we headed to our humble motel room with great anticipation. We'd made it!

We gloated as the rain continued through the afternoon, installed in our room surrounded by the soggy contents of our panniers draped in every available space to dry. Not wishing to get doused again, we were thrilled when the motel owners graciously proferred restaurant menus and drove us to pick up our hot dinners. Some hard cider from the gas station next door, and we had the makings of a feast.

Carl and Molly enjoy dinner in a dry motel room

We've now broken our record. We survived cycling through a whole day of rain. But we're in no hurry to repeat the experience.

Acadia Rain or Shine

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Molly

Acadia National Park was high on our list of sights to see as we cycled the Maine coast. So we allowed a day and a half there for hiking and exploring its natural beauty. Everyone had different interests and priorities, so we split up and

Our first afternoon was a continuation of the bright sunny weather we'd enjoyed all week. Carl and I took advantage of the clear skies to hike up to the top of Cadillac Mountain to take in the views. We had planned to take the easiest route to the top, but somewhere our logistics went awry. When we set off from our starting point, the gentle climb quickly turned into a steep ascent. Clambering up boulders and clutching sheer rocks while I tried to traverse them, I became certain it was not what I signed up for. But going back down seemed the worse option, so I persevered. Fortunately, either the terrain improved slightly, or I became more adept at climbing and my comfort level increased with our progress. I'm certain Carl could have scampered up the trail in half the time, but he patiently stuck with me and surreptitiously ensured I didn't take a tumble. And that route certainly had breathtaking views on the way up, when I dared to turn around and look.

The view from the top was indeed spectacular. Being the tallest point in the park, we could see in almost all directions. Ocean, coastline, boats, forests, lakes and rock everywhere we looked. We tried hard to ignore the hoards of other tourists who had driven to the top and dominated the scene. In our minds, hiking was the best way to enjoy the summit.

Molly and Carl at the top of Cadillac Mountain

Our second day brought the first rain of our trip. Not to be deterred, we still ventured out to hike. The Ocean Trail attracted several of us, with its craggy shoreline and cliffs. Hiking in Acadia seems to be synonymous with walking on rocks, and that trail was no exception. It offered plenty of shoreline rocks for walking across. Myra and I preferred the fact that the direction was horizontal not vertical.

Carl, on the other hand, was enamored with the climbs that offered real vertical ascent. He scaled the Precipice, loving the challenge of the climb. It didn't matter that the views were obscured. Achieving the summit was reward enough for him. It definitely was not the climb for me. Just seeing his pictures made me nervous.

For a group of outdoor enthusiasts, Acadia was a great match. We barely scratched the surface of all the park had to offer. Although we did manage to fit in a bit of cycling getting to and from our hikes. After all, we're on a cycling tour.

Hugging the Coast of Maine

Posted on August 7, 2013 by Molly

Progress to date: 4 day, 220 miles

Over the last four days and 220 miles of cycling, we have made it over half way up the state. And we've done our best to get as many ocean views as possible. In the beginning, we were able to cycle along beaches and see sweeping expanses of the Atlantic. But moving northward, the craggy shoreline has so many inlets and bays that there are few places where the road can actually parallel the coast. Even so, the ocean inevitably dominates our daily travels.

Each bay and river we cross brings us to another bridge. Just like road repair season in Minnesota, we have discovered a number of bridges closed for repairs. That can mean a detour, a shuttle for bikes, or just sneaking across. Other bridges border on the spectacular. But what looks good from a distance can be intimidating to cross on a bicycle – to me anyway. The others appear to have no such qualms.

Cyclists crossing a closed bridge

Penobscot Narrows Bridge

The inlets invariably host harbor towns, which are a delight. We never tire of the marinas filled with boats of all shapes and sizes glistening in the sun. And when venturing out for dinner in the evenings, we search for outdoor patios with views of the harbor.

Harbor view at Damariscotta

Harbor view at Damariscotta

The main tourist route north through Maine is Highway 1. We've tried hard to avoid it, with its heavy traffic and big trucks. Whenever possible, we venture off on smaller roads with less traffic. Our reward has been to cycle down quiet tree lined lanes, winding through rural areas with beautiful homes and quaint towns. Often we have been able to peer through the yards to catch a glimpse of the ocean beyond. But everything comes at a cost. Side roads tend to follow the contours of the land more than the big highways. Here in Maine that translates to frequent and steep hills. There is no doubt, we are getting quite a workout each day!

It's not all about the scenery, though. Between the miles of cycling we have found plenty of opportunity for fun along the way. All while hugging the coastline.

Superior Footprints

Life and the Outdoors in the Northland

Tag Archives: Grand Gaspe Cycling Tour

Loving Prince Edward Island

A Day in the Life of Cyclists

Day Tripping

Hello Nova Scotia!

The Ups and Downs of Cycle Touring

The Angels of Grand Manan

From a Cycling Foursome to a Duo

A Soggy Ride

Acadia Rain or Shine

Hugging the Coast of Maine

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