Back on the trail: The final day

Day breaks with a clear cool sky and only slight signs of the prior day’s storm. Ted and I are ready to make our final push, returning to Charlottetown. As we look out toward the ocean and New Brunswick, a quintet of kayaks make their way east on a placid, smooth sea. The water is so clear that we can see bottom from up high. We have enjoyed our past week’s adventures, but it was time to leave PEI and go home.

Looking at my odometer, we finished yesterday at 293 miles meaning that we did only 25 miles the prior day. The map calls for 38 miles on our last day so we should finish up around 330 miles for our time on the road. Unlike other mornings, it is very crisp so we don multiple layers including windbreakers as we feel a good breeze in the background. 

We turn off to Route 1 and the wind hits us straight on but as we are fresh and well-fed, we push on hard, stretching and warming our muscles. At first the road is flat, then hills begin with increasing frequency and amplitude. I hope this is not a harbinger of the rest of the day as it will be difficult to finish given these conditions and terrain.

I try to ignore the physical challenge by taking in the inherent beauty of our last ride. Farms to our right and left with the ocean in the distance is a sight that we have become used to but will miss after today. 

At Woods Island, we stop at a visitor information center for a quick break and regrouping. It has interesting displays of the island and a well-stocked gift shop. One section, in fact, is dedicated to this Island’s production of honey. 

A spur of the Confederation Trail starts here and we have a decision to make. 

The wind and hills are getting worse so we decide to change our final ride and take the trail to Charlottetown. It is longer, but relatively flat and should be more sheltered from the wind.  We had been warned by our B&B host not to get on the trial because of the proliferation of bugs, but we choose the prospect of bug bites over the certainty of buffeting winds.

Pedaling the Confederation Trail is a welcome change. The gravel is mostly firm  (though loose in recently resurfaced sections). We have found the trail overall to be extremely well maintained. Its ride is quiet and it is lined with conifers and birch. Ferns have taken over both sides of the trail on this section and while we see a few lupines, they are not in abundance as we have seen throughout our trip on the roadsides.

We were right in selecting the trail as the wind is at a minimum in the forested area that it runs through. Once we hit an open field of canola, we are hit broadside with gusts making us pedal quickly for the shelter of the woods.

We pass a pond to the left with a flock of Canadian geese that I point out to Ted. He shrugs saying, “Yeah, we have Long Island geese at home.” 

It continues to be cool and we have yet to shed any of our layers. But we are comfortable and reflective of our ride and the day. Wind sways the tops of the trees near the trail but we feel little effect. It seems like the perfect ride.

We stop at a sunny, sheltered piece of the trail for a rest and water and the prediction of our B&B host comes true: bugs attack. We are swarmed by them so we take out Ted’s Skin-So-Soft based bug repellant. But it is too late for Ted, our mosquito whisperer, who attracts the vast majority of blood-sucking, winged creatures. One has already attached itself to his forehead, which I smack squirting a burst of dead bug and blood.

The trail does have some less problematic escorts in the form of swallowtail butterflies and dragonflies. Both types race us along our path before falling back. 

Stopping for a moment, we take stock of a panoramic view to our left. In the far distance is a bay and the shoreline leading to Charlottetown. Fronting it are forests and rolling hills filled with plantings and cows. It is lovely but not something that we are willing or able to bike over.

It is about noon and we are looking for food. On the map there were markings for restaurants at Orwell. Sure enough signs for them point off the trail. We follow. Both restaurants are closed leading us to Route 1, the road we had avoided because of wind and hills. We attempt to continue our ride on it but are thwarted quickly as the wind is stronger than before and the hills steeper. We backtrack to the trail. A power bar, maple-walnut fudge and water becomes our lunch.

In a few miles we come to another crossing at Vernon Corners that has signage for an ice cream parlor. That is also closed. We are beginning to think that we should have brought sandwiches with us.

We pass through a grove of balsam fir trees, which smell wonderful but is playing havoc with my sinuses as I am coughing and hacking up stuff from my lungs. 

The lack of food and allergies are counterbalanced by the lasting beauty on the   trail. To our right is a pond with the deepest blue water I have ever seen backed by fresh water grasses and maturing cattails. A few water fowl float on the surface. We continue on.

We stop again for a water break. We both are down to our last bottle of water and have been sustained by power bars and some fudge Ted purchased at the visitor’s center. We have biked nearly 40 miles and have yet to reach the junction on the trail to turn off for George’s house where my car is parked. We are getting tired.

We finally reach the turnoff at Gay Rd. and look at hills to our left that we need to climb toward George’s house. We have biked 44 miles without rest or food.

We call George for final directions to confirm our way. He tells us that we are on the right track but if we need to be picked up he could be here in 10 minutes. We thank him, but decide to try and finish the ride to his house. We climb the first hill and then see the second. We have another 10 miles to go and realize that we should take George up on his offer. We make a phone call.