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Barbara and I will be coming to Eastern Europe in late May, landing in Berlin. We're getting a hankering for the road again, and in honor of so many loyal readers in Russia and Germany, that's the direction we're headed. More details later.
Barbara said the name of my current story sounded like I was trying to pedal something, what with "Free for a Year" and all, so I changed it, because she was giving me the LOOK. Thanks to all my loyal readers, now from 57 countries! Who woulda' thunk it! ( Barbara didn't think much of "thunk" either, but that's just who I am. An aging hillbilly. A little too late to polish up this old man!)
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ON THE ROAD A YEAR - Part Three
The Confederation Bridge into
Prince Edward Island was the longest marine bridge in the world at
that time. It was very high, also, and you already know how that
affects me.
We camped near the middle area of
the island. The full-time RV'ers there called us “babes” in full
timer tongue. When I started to tell one of them about our motor
problems, he waved it off. “Just fix it, and move on down the road.
Don't worry about it, it will mess up your trip.” I told that to
myself many times, later, going on down the road.
We unloaded the car, and set in to
see the north half of the island. We soon passed something like a
Forestry Festival, although I couldn't figure out how their very
short gnarled trees up on that end of the island could be a big thing
to them. I guess, If that's just all you've got, you learn to
appreciate them. Climbers with spikes on were running up very tall
poles to the top, to try to ring their bell first. I don't know where
they could have found poles that tall.
We stopped at an Irish Moss
Interpretive Center. Irish moss is used as a thickening agent in many
foods. When a Nor' Wester” blows that moss in toward shore, they
hitch their horses to a rake, and horse and man wade that freezing
surf, raking that moss ashore, carrying it off by the truckloads.
Tough horses, tough men. They also trap lobsters, and grow potatoes.
Their specialty, Seaweed Pie, is not real good, not real bad.
Traveling along the very windy
north coast, Elephant Rock was advertised ahead. A man and two women
manned the tiny booth where they charged a small fee for the
attraction. The man was taking my money, and I could tell he was very
embarrassed. He told me,”I want to apologize for my appearance. I
broke my dentures.” I just took mine out, handed them out the
window, and told him, “Here, use mine until I get back.” The
women died with laughter, and he loosened up some. He didn't take my
dentures, thank goodness. Elephant rock was out in the sea, and it
looked the part, somewhat. The trees were down to about head high on
this coast, and it was extremely windy.
At the far north east corner of
the island, something very neat was happening. Two seas met, rolling
in to meet each other at a tiny strip of land, that extended far out.
That little strip was just filled with hundreds of strange little
birds. Occasionally, they flew, but always returned to that narrow
strip. I guess they were feeding there. Many different kinds of wind
driven devices were being tested there. These were hardy, hard working
people along this north coast. Beautiful in summer, but we could just
imagine what a horrible place it must be in the winter.
We moved down to Charlottetown, in
the middle of the southern half of the island. We saw a high wire act
with a man juggling running chain saws.
The southern part was more
touristy, very beautiful. Taller but still short trees allowed one to
see vast areas. Every view was like a post card. We saw Ann's house,
of “Ann of Green Gables.” Along the coast, lots of lobster
traps, light houses. Many, many potato farms. Summertime in the south
of Prince Edward Island was literally like living in a post card. As
I said that day, “If farmers have a special Farmer's Heaven, This
is what it would look like. Maybe more like Farmer's Hell in a few
months.”
Goodbye, Prince Edward Island. Prince Edward Island didn't go
quietly, or easily. We got lost on the way to the ferry, got on a
bad, tiny road, meeting one large load of dirt after another. We
entered the belly of the huge ferry with minutes to spare.
Our last glimpse of Prince Edward
Island came as the ferry pulled out and the fog rolled in. Prince
Edward Island, I want to see you again. But I probably won't. There's
far too much world ahead yet to see to ever backtrack.
Entering Nova Scotia, we traveled
to Antigonish, a Scottish town. We unloaded the car and went for a
drive. Along the south coast, we could see out over hundreds of miles
of open ocean, which allowed the wind to drive huge waves into the
rocky shore, all producing a loud booming sound, with water thrown up
very high. We were very impressed with this, and took photo after
photo. But when the photos came back, it was just water splashing on
rocks. The majesty was all gone. You've just got to see it to
appreciate it.
There were no beautiful farms
along this coast. Just small, shabby fishermen's houses. We will
travel a loop around the north Cape tomorrow. Leaving and returning
in the darkness.
Thursday, September 10 found us
seeing one amazing, beautiful scene after another. Traveling along
the north shoreline, we saw very blue sea, rocky coastlines, pounding
surf, and magnificent mountains that just dropped suddenly into the
sea. One of the world's most beautiful scenic drives. Each new scene
became more beautiful than the last, something we had thought
impossible.
Cutting across the mountains near
the end of the island, meat eating pitcher plants were growing
everywhere in mountain bogs. These plants do not get enough
nourishment from the bogs they thrive in, and any insect that strays
into the inside of the pitcher is held fast by a sweet, sticky
substance, and absorbed.
Returning again to sea level, we
came upon a very beautiful cove, and stopped for lunch. There we ate
one of our most memorable meals. Not that peanut butter sandwiches
were particularly memorable to us by now, but the beach and surf
contained thousands of round rocks, softball size. The surf just
rolled them all in, accompanied by a loud roaring noise, and then
they rolled back out again. Over and over. The setting was capped off
by a magnificent waterfall. My words just can't do justice to this
little place in the world. If God ever decides to add a new wing to
Heaven, he could do well to travel the Cabot trail first, just to
refresh his memory.
Continued, four days. Thanks for reading!
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