Leaving Maine - Baxter State Park
August 22, 2016
If someone asked Mike if he was addicted to the Internet, he would immediately exclaim, “Absolutely not. I don’t follow Facebook, or Google Plus or Linkin; all I do is read my email and that is pretty sparse”. Francie has no problem admitting she likes to “stay in touch” with the world. We are on Prince Edward Island. We don’t have Internet or phone service. Mike frequently reaches into his pocket to retrieve his phone when he wants to know something or get directions, only to pull it out and suddenly realize he has no Internet. This is followed by a harrumph and some mumbling. Where do we go first thing in the morning? We race to the coffee shop – not for coffee but for Internet. Yes, we are both addicted to the Internet.
Despite the lack of Internet and phone service, we love PEI. The island is alive with Celtic music. We have gone to several Ceilidhs (a Gaelic word for gathering of people celebrating Celtic music) and plan to attend a couple of more. PEI is definitely a tourist destination, yet other than Cavendish, home of Anne of Green Gables, the island seems to be devoid of the glitzy American style tourist traps. The interior land consists of huge fields of potatoes, wheat and corn. As we drive along the coast, small colorful fishing villages seem to be everywhere. In several villages, we bought mussels that were harvested that morning and haddock that was caught that day. At our favorite fish market, we decided to get oysters. The young man who waited on us was kind enough to give us a quick lesson in oyster shucking, and give Mike his first oyster on the island. Armed with a screw driver and a butter knife, we shucked like an expert and enjoyed oysters that were fresh from the sea.
Visiting the local shops!
Our campsite is right on a bay and feels like it should be in a painting or a commercial for PEI. In the morning while sipping our coffee, we watch the fisherman pulling up lines full of mussels. The weather has been warm, but the winds have been ferocious. Twice we have pulled in our windward slides because the covering over the slide was making a horrendous noise, and we were afraid it might rip. Each day we have taken a drive to enjoy the scenery. We also took a 17 mile bike ride on Confederation Trail, an old railroad line that stretches from one end of the island to the other. Our final night in the park, we attended a mussels and music night at the beach. It was a great way to end our stay at the campground.
The following morning, we made our way to the other side of the island to visit our friends, Richard and Susan. They were the stimulus for trip to PEI. We met them several years ago in Norfolk, Virginia while we watched the bomb squad deal with a suspected briefcase that was on a left on a park bench near the marina. For more about the bomb: http://www.anamcarasail.com/leaving-the-chesapeake.html September 26, 2011.
Over the next couple of years, we ran into each other along the waterway. Any contact with them always had a reference to visiting them at their summer home in PEI. Their home sits on a bluff overlooking the water between PEI and Nova Scotia. We parked on their lawn, hooked up to their water and electric. PEI has very rich red soil and this was one of the most beautiful camping sites we have seen and is certainly our favorite. The road to Richard and Susan’s home is unpaved. Since we tow the car, it was generously covered with that beautiful rich red soil.
Over the next couple of years, we ran into each other along the waterway. Any contact with them always had a reference to visiting them at their summer home in PEI. Their home sits on a bluff overlooking the water between PEI and Nova Scotia. We parked on their lawn, hooked up to their water and electric. PEI has very rich red soil and this was one of the most beautiful camping sites we have seen and is certainly our favorite. The road to Richard and Susan’s home is unpaved. Since we tow the car, it was generously covered with that beautiful rich red soil.
Susan’s family is from PEI and she and Richard have been coming there for a multitude of years; they seem to know everyone and everywhere to go. Our time with them just flew by. They took us to an unusual microbrewery called Barnone, sometimes called PEI’s beer farm. The night featured musicians whose performance was a tribute to the man who was instrumental in the music venue of the place. The beer was excellent and the music was even better.
Another night we went to Charlottetown to hear Lenny Gallant perform a show called “Searching for Abegweit.” The name Abegweit is derived from the First Nations name for PEI, roughly translated as “cradle on the wave”. Prior to 1997, when the Confederation Bridge opened, travelers from New Brunswick travelled to PEI by ferry. For many years that ferry was Abegweit, a 372 foot car and railroad icebreaking vessel. Susan recalls riding on the ferry as a highpoint of her travels to PEI as a girl. The Abby (as she is currently referred to) now sits in Monroe Harbor in Chicago and serves as the club ship for Columbia Yacht Club, our home base when we were racing.
Another night we went to Charlottetown to hear Lenny Gallant perform a show called “Searching for Abegweit.” The name Abegweit is derived from the First Nations name for PEI, roughly translated as “cradle on the wave”. Prior to 1997, when the Confederation Bridge opened, travelers from New Brunswick travelled to PEI by ferry. For many years that ferry was Abegweit, a 372 foot car and railroad icebreaking vessel. Susan recalls riding on the ferry as a highpoint of her travels to PEI as a girl. The Abby (as she is currently referred to) now sits in Monroe Harbor in Chicago and serves as the club ship for Columbia Yacht Club, our home base when we were racing.
On our last day we went kayaking. It was a delightful couple of hours as we rode the tide down the river to our take out point. The entire trip was idyllic. When we spied our car at the bridge we used as a reference point, we were about 40 yards from the boat landing. The tide was out so all we had to do was drag the kayaks to the shore – no big deal. When Mike stepped out of his kayak, he sunk to his knees into the mud. He could be seen struggling to pull his leg up to take a step when he lost his balance and fell forward. Now he was in mud up to his knees and elbows. Each one of us struggled to keep moving so we wouldn’t get sucked down. The minute we stopped, the mud just kept sucking us down. Finally we all arrived on shore, but NOONE was going to get in the car. We found a rocky spot along the shore to rinse the mud off. Once we were mostly cleaned up the humor of the situation began to explode especially as we looked at our tracks in the mud.
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Hopewell Cape, New Brunswick
Richard and Susan were great hosts and we kept telling them they had the best RV park we had ever visited. Reluctantly we bid them goodbye as we made our way to our next stop, which was Hopewell Rock in New Brunswick.
The Hopewell Rocks are in the Bay of Fundy whose tide is anywhere between 39 – 44 feet. At low tide we walked along the sculptured rocks created by the tides. At high tide people kayak around the rocks.
The Hopewell Rocks are in the Bay of Fundy whose tide is anywhere between 39 – 44 feet. At low tide we walked along the sculptured rocks created by the tides. At high tide people kayak around the rocks.