Leg Two of Confederation Trail

O’Leary to Summerside KM 45 go KM 109 (37 miles)

August 22nd dawned with mild wind and partly cloudy skies. The hurricane barreling toward Nova Scotia and PEI was not evident in the sky. Bill is expected sometime on early Sunday. So, fully equipped with Camel Back and all tools, Suzy dropped Tom at O’Leary promising to pick him up at the bike shop in Summerside in about three hours. One of the first modifications Tom made on this leg was raising the seat of his mountain bike making his pedaling stroke more efficient. He would have given anything for an allen wrench yesterday for this job. A bit more hilly then yesterday’s route but with a more efficient stroke and lots of water on his back (camel back) speed picked up and was almost able to run down a few of thousands of woodcock along the trail. Woodcocks are to PEI what Herons are to New Brunswick.

This section of the trail weaved back and forth crossing the main highway and edging people’s backyards in the small towns. Being an old railroad line, you could understand why all the grain elevators were next to the trail and that the trail went through all the small towns. Lots of railway history is marked with small exhibits along the route.

As I pulled into Summerside I was confident in finding the bike shop where we agreed to meet. However the first five people I asked about the bike shop gave me a puzzled look as they explained there was no bike shop in Summerside. I showed them the bike shop notation on the map and they just scratched their heads. Last thing I need after a hard three hour ride is another half hour of wandering around lost in town. As I rode down the trail along side the main highway, I hear a diesel engine rattling up on me. Sure enough, it is Suzy and she has already found the bike shop.

We pile the bike in the truck and head to the bike shop for some adjustments. Get there at ten to twelve and ask for a few quick adjustments. Guy says, sorry we close at noon. I say it will only take a few minutes. He shrugs his shoulders helplessly. I recognize all the sign of the dreaded Island fever in his attitude. It’s all about time off! No matter that his shop looked like it needed customers badly, this guy was infected with a serious case of Island Fever. I put the bike back in the truck and we headed to the nearest grocery store for some Gatorade, figuring I could make the adjustments myself.