An uneven day

Ted and I decided the prior night to continue decreasing our daily mileage as a combination of tedium and the desire to be off the bike more made the planned trip something we no longer wanted to pursue. Fortunately, the distance cuts we could make over the next few days were easy to accomplish and didn’t really impact what we would be able the see or the experience we were about to have. Had we kept to the “plan” we would have peddled over 400 miles.

“That was not going to happen,” said Ted. I agreed.

The day was already warm as we left our B&B in Souris.  A breeze off the bay was a welcome relief as the sun was beating down on us relentlessly though a cloudless sky. As we passed the beach, the tide was low tempting me to stop and search for yet another piece of sea glass. We kept biking.

For the first time on our trip, we have started the day on a main highway, Route 2, that has more cars than we are used to that whiz by us as we stay to the far right of a wide, paved shoulder. The buildings and sightings are more commercial and with little view of the ocean, it feels like a hard slog rather than an enjoyable vacation.

Not a moment too soon we turn off the main road to Route 310, to better hug the coast and pedal in less-crowded settings. The area next to the Fortune River is quiet and more residential than we are used to. I spot for the first time a few clumps of Queen Anne’s Lace.

As we approach The town of Bay Fortune and its fishing fleet, the wind off the water makes it much more comfortable to be on a bike. We stop to scope out the port and a pair of lobstermen start up a conversation with us. They have little to do now as the lobster season ended this past Sunday. They were collecting their traps and hauling them back home on a trailer. In the next few weeks one will start fishing for mackerel and halibut, the other will vacation in his camper. 

Ted and I linger looking at the docked fleet and searching the adjoining beach for sea glass. Ted finds a nice piece that he pocketed. 

South of the harbor, we move from a somewhat affluent area of houses to farms that have been more typical of our travels. Potato fields, dairies, corn, etc. flank either side of the road.  

We turn off the road to visit Sally’s beach and came to a magnificent view of the bays and the ocean well below us. It occurs to us that what goes down must come up and neither of us wants an additional 1 mile long hill to climb. We return to the highway.

We are on a stretch of unremarkable highway. A few businesses, double-wide trailer homes, conifers, etc. Nothing that we had not seen before and it is getting hotter. We end this stretch of road and stop at a gas station for cold water and a Hostess cupcake. We turn onto Route 4, another main highway.

Lunch is at least an hour away and we start climbing hills again. We appear to be in Amish country as there are yellow warning signs with a picture of horse-drawn wagons on them. Another sign is the horse manure that I need to dodge with my bike and home-made signs offering eggs and other farm products for sale (except on Sundays.)

Another boring stretch of road finally gives way to the turnoff for Route of 321, which leads into Cardigan where we hope to have lunch. We find the Clam Diggers Restaurant overlooking the Cardigan river, dismount our bikes and have a nice meal. The river supports pleasure boats and a pair of kayakers paddle up the river. A few birds fly near.

We have a short trip now into Montague via a spur of the Confederation Trail. The great thing about the trail and its spurs is that thet don’t have hills. After some initial confusion about which way we should proceed we start the final leg of the day. Biking the trail is a joy as it is flat and shaded, making the pedaling easy on the body.

Workers have been clearing small trees giving our ride a Christmas tree smell of spruce and fir. Midway to Montague, we stop on the Brudenell Bridge, which traverses the Brudenell river. It is a lovely setting with a flock of ducks swimming away from us along the reeds. The water is so clear fingerlings can be seen in the more shallow sections of the river. It is peaceful and serene so we linger before getting back on our bikes.

The day is getting warmer, which we feel once the shade of the trail diminishes. A large channel opens up to our left indicating that Montague is near. A harbor holding mostly leisure craft rests at the base of the town. A comically large oyster shell greets us at the entrance of the trail. Ted and I find our B&B, we take showers and then I fall into a deep sleep waking up before yet another fine dinner. It was a hard day.