Trip 45 — Prince Edward Island Walk

Day 4: Borden-Carleton to Summerside
Wednesday, 30 July 2025

Today: 31842 steps/23.53 km/14.62 mi/4h 17m
Total: 140844 steps/107.86 km/67.02 mi/19h 32m

As I prepared to leave the motel, I had the news on TV. Mayor Mike Bradley of Sarnia, Ontario, was being asked about the Trump tariffs set to begin this Friday. If the trade war is happening, he said, let's get to war. He's tired of hearing from his associates in the United States that they love Canadians when they're afraid to stand up to Trump.

Maybe his associates need to hear New York Governor Kathy Hochul's "New York hasn't labored under a king in over two hundred and fifty years" speech. Have we heard a peep from Trump about congestion pricing since then?

To return my room key to the office, I had to walk almost the entire length of the motel. The guests of room 2 were sitting on their chairs outside on the narrow walkway. Perpendicular to the walkway was an enormous GMC Sierra pickup truck.

I did not want to waste steps detouring around the truck. I paused to give them the chance to move their feet and allow me to pass on the walkway.

"Oops, there you go," the woman said as she and her companion shifted their feet back.

"Thank you," I said. "It's a big truck to walk around." I proceeded to the office, happy to have allowed them the opportunity to go through their day knowing that they had spared me any inconvenience by their behemoth vehicle.

The song sparrows of Borden-Carleton spoke a different dialect from those of Victoria: three long blasts, then six short ones, then one long blast and three more at a lower pitch. O-S-S-T-O? O-H-I-T-O? I wondered what they were singing about.

Route 10 was pleasant but busy, and although there was a shoulder it was rocky and uncomfortable, so I walked on the road, facing traffic. Just before the road turned toward Searletown, I turned around for one last look at the 12.9-kilometer Confederation Bridge, almost its entire span visible, the faintest suggestion of New Brunswick visible through the haze on the other side. One day a year, people are allowed to walk or run across.

At Searletown I branched left toward Bedeque, and here I found the best roadside produce kiosk. In addition to potatoes, it had green beans, scallions, and my favorite walking snack: cucumbers. They're satisfyingly crunchy, nutritious, and hydrating, and there's no peel to deal with at the end. The cucumber I picked was horseshoe-shaped and must have weighed two kilos. I could have worn it around my neck. Instead, I carried it by hand, as if it were a heavy lawn tool, drawing strange looks when I entered Baba's Kitchen for lunch.

The restaurant was connected to the Bedeque Historical Museum. After my burger and Caesar salad (they had the option of a regular side salad on the menu, but the person taking my order, apparently hearing the request for the first time, had no idea how to make it), I checked out the history of the area.

The museum was housed in the old general store, which also served variously as the post office and the tailor shop of William Callbeck, whose men's clothing was renowned. Louise Callbeck was instrumental in helping Japanese during World War II, bringing to Bedeque a family that had been interned in British Columbia.

There was a history of the Mi'kmaq First Nations people, who had traditionally moved around throughout the year, following the food sources. Until the French arrived, they didn't spend winter on the island, because there were no moose to eat. They called the bay Eptek ("the hot place"), which later became Bedeque.

Across the street was the schoolhouse, moved from nearby Lower Bedeque, where "Anne of Green Gables" author Lucy Maud Montgomery taught for six months. She liked the small class, only 14 students, and she also especially liked a member of her host family, Herman Leard. Only her journal hints at their relationship; the rest is left for us to ponder.

The museum also contained over 200 clocks, a history of the Borden ferries, railroad equipment, recipes from the women of the Borden United Church (I liked Charlotte Jay's salmon loaf, nine ingredients easily mixed and thrown in a baking dish), musical instruments, farm equipment, and an explanation of the area's sewage system and early forms of toilet paper (such as grass, corn cobs, and Eaton's and Sears catalogues). I could have spent several hours, but I had walking to do.

I continued up Route 1A, which I'll call the Mack Truck Expressway for all of the 18-wheelers that came barreling down, but at least there was a proper shoulder for walking. The day wasn't long or hot, but it was hard on the feet; I wouldn't realize until later that I'd worn off the pad of my left little toe.

From a kilometer away, I saw the giant letters "Ice cream," and I knew I was going to stop. I crossed the Wilmot River and came to Kool Breeze, where I had two scoops in a cup and sat under a tree, eating leisurely, without fear of ending the episode with sticky hands. Then I lingered in the bathroom, because it was air-conditioned.

The place offers free ice cream to patrons whose names match those chosen daily. Today's were George and Laura. My initial thought, especially with those picks, was that it seemed racist — how often does Mohammed come up? Anjali? Joaquín? Rayshawn? — but going back on their Facebook page revealed names that didn't sound like they came from the Favorite Christian English Baby Names Book of 1955. Recently it was Luxor and Isabella. And Colton and Jaelyn. And names I've never seen: Dayz, Calan, Tya, Symonne, and Mersadies. Perhaps it's I who stand to learn from this.

Summerside was the first sizable town I've visited on PEI. It has sidewalks, bus service, a Staples, and Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, and Indian restaurants. And the College of Piping — a group was practicing outside as I walked by. I might have attended tonight's performance of Celtic music and dance, but there was no way to combine that with a timely dinner.

My room at the Sunflower Guest Suites was up some steep stairs, on the third floor. Somehow I booked it without realizing that it was within a block of three dealerships offering the three vehicles I hate the most. But once I got past those, I came to an attractive town.

I dined on bun bo Hue (a meat-based Vietnamese noodle soup) at the G&T Book Cafe. The place is also a store selling greeting cards, knitted dolls, patterned LED devices, handbags — there was even a refrigerator on display. And plenty of books to browse.

I picked up "Living Me to We: The Guide for Socially Conscious Canadians" and read about how we should try to stop using paper — don't ask for receipts, don't collect them from ATMs, avoid excess paper bags — before I found this notice in the bathroom: "Washing your hands is only half the battle. Drying your hands with paper is the safest way to control the spread of bacteria." None of those deafening, germ-spewing air dryers here! None of them work anyway.

The food took a long time to come out, but I didn't mind, and the server was so friendly and enthusiastic. After 20 minutes he confirmed that I wanted the pork knuckles in the soup. Fifteen minutes after that he asked whether I wanted it spicy. When my cherry smoothie arrived, he said, "Isn't it beautiful? We use real fruit, no powder. See how it's pretty, in layers." And he served a ramekin of hot sauce proudly, noting that they use Thai chilis.

The mosquitoes were only moderately aggressive on the way back.

Go on to day 5