Two wheels, three kids, four espressos (page 3)
“We’re racing,” she calls. “You’re losing.”
I spit in a ditch. She drops me in the next 30 seconds and flies toward Port Medway, a charming
fishing village about 30 kilometres from White Point Beach. I can’t keep up, but my
goal is endurance rather than speed. It was another very brief sleep, with Silas rising at
3 a.m., but today I’m determined not to whip out my cellphone and call for a van ride,
as I did yesterday and the day before. I have begun to accept the fatigue, to move through
it. Parenting is, in large part, about endurance, going the distance, finding moments of
joy and beauty along the way.
MORE OF THE SHORE
Getting there Freewheeling Adventures will fetch you from Halifax, but you can travel to
Nova Scotia’s South Shore on your own power via Route 333, a winding, scenic coastal highway,
known locally as Prospect Road.
www.freewheelingadventures.ca
800-672-0775
Staying there
Comfortable and inexpensive B&Bs are sprinkled along the Lighthouse Route.
Lunenburg’s Boscawen Inn offers views overlooking the harbour.
Visit www.destination-ns.com, www.nsbedandbreakfast.com or
novascotia.com for a complete list of accommodation options.
Playing there
In addition to cycling tours, Freewheeling Adventures offers sea-kayaking trips from its base in Hubbards.
Nova Scotia’s South Shore is a treasure trove of small villages: Pubnico is one of the oldest
Acadian communities in North America; Peggys Cove, one of the most famous fishing communities; and Lunenburg, a UNESCO
World Heritage Site. The sea caves at Ovens Natural Park are also well worth a visit.
For more South Shore travel tips, see
bayoffundy.com/nssouthshore.aspx.
|
Silas calls for a song as we ride over the hilly roads that wind along the ocean. “I’s
the b’y that builds the boat, and I’s the b’y that sails her,” I
sing. Except for the occasional passing car, all I hear is the twittering of birds and
my breathing and breathy singing. “When I am far away on the brimy ocean tossed,
will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?”
I was born and raised in Nova Scotia but have spent very little time on the South Shore.
Before we’d left on our trip, a friend told me that she regards the South Shore as
the “authentic Nova Scotia.” I wasn’t sure what to make of this, thinking
the Annapolis Valley, where I live, is pretty authentic too. But there is something about
the lovely old wooden homes perched on the winding coastline, the sun dazzling on the waves,
the small wharves and islands and sailboats and seagulls, the breeze that smells of ocean,
seagrass and wildflowers that beguile and entrance. I finally catch up to James and Anna,
only because James’ handlebars have come loose. A kindly man who lives by the road
pops out with a tool box, and we are back on our bikes within minutes, our helpful new friend
waving us off.
On our last full day, we drive to the Seaside Adjunct, a coastal addition to Kejimkujik
National Park. The views are supposed to be magnificent, but the park is socked in with fog
when we arrive. It feels otherworldly, but that could be the four espressos I had for breakfast.
“OK,” says James. “Let’s do this hike.” He is studying a map.
I point to where it says the park is 22 square kilometres. We pass on the hike and, instead,
meander along the boardwalk.
Katie and Tyler are preparing lunch nearby. I take Silas to the washroom and return to find
Mary and Anna sporting avocado-chocolate-mousse moustaches. Our guides have whipped up a
banquet. There is gazpacho and cheese and bread and even waffles served with fruit coulis
and the avocado- chocolate-mousse face paint.
As our curious luxurious-rustic adventure winds down, we feast and say farewell to the South
Shore. Mary puts her head on my shoulder. “I’m going to miss Katie and Tyler.” She
is on the verge of tears. I’m going to miss them too, especially Tyler’s early-morning
roadside espressos.
That night, we sit around a fire and then snuggle down in our cozy cabin. I lie awake, enthralled
by the sound of the waves, which finally draws me to the beach. I will be tired in the morning,
as we pack our bags and the little pink suitcase and make our way home, but it’s a
small price to pay for the sight of silver moonlight sparkling on the waves.
Christy Ann Conlin is the author of the novel Heave. She lives in Berwick, N.S. Photographer
Dan Doucette is based in Halifax.
|
