A new ride on a changed trail

My new E-bike has arrived finally and I am enjoying the ride. My husband and I rode around our neighbourhood before we headed further afield. It took me some time to adjust to the pedal assist, throttle and gears. It is lots of fun however and the day it arrived I felt like a child at Christmas. 

Then we had high winds, up to 89 km/h, 55 mph, which ruled out cycling for several days. When we were able to ride again, we took to the Confederation Trail. One month ago, when we rode this particular section of the trail, the scene was different.

Remember this old fence and the horses? 

The horses are not in this field as the fence is destroyed, probably a casualty of the wind storm. It was sad to see the old fence this way.

This was the trail last month, 

the green walls reaching skyward as we enjoyed the setting. A month later, 

the green is replaced with autumn colour, predominantly red, as the maples reveal their Canadian identity. The sight makes us stop periodically to take in the fleeting beauty. 

Many of the fields are already harvested and have been replanted for winter to prevent soil erosion. This field was harvested last month 

and seeded with grass which has grown well. 

The sound of water along the trail is unusual and again we stop. 

Ice has started to form on the water, a reminder our days of cycling are numbered for this year. It’s gotten a lot colder this last week.

There is something calming to the spirit about cycling. Although the physical effort can be demanding, riding with the wind in your face, the sound of the birds and the occasional sighting, eyes on the trail ahead and the vegetation all around, are all exhilarating. The spirit absorbs the essence of the experience. You can call it the effect of endorphins, but I like to think the spirit recalls the experience and provides a sense of well being. I can’t wait to go again.

Along the way 5

We passed this barn and paddock with the horses when my husband and I were cycling. I’ve seen horses at this farm previously but they’ve never been in the area near the road. I had to stop.

The old fence alone is reason to stop and look however. It looks like fences from years ago when you cut the wood yourself. In Newfoundland, people like my grandfather called this wood longers.  No pressure treated lumber here just longers which are nature treated over time. One such fence was built on a plot of land in Summerside recently. 

How many years has the fence been around this paddock? It has aged, looks ancient even and has so much character. It also does the job needed of any fence.

As I slowly approached, two of the horses walked away. However, the horse with the crescent on its forehead stayed.

It continued to eat, selectively picking its favourite morsels from among the ground cover. At one point it picked up a Queen Anne’s Lace with some grass but quickly dropped it. The lacy blooms are safe where the horses are concerned.

At one time, this farm had trotters for harness racing which is popular on Prince Edward Island and has a long history here. They ran in this paddock but these horses are much bigger than trotters. Are the days of harness racing over for this farm?

The barn is holding up well. With the horses and the old fence around the paddock this is an island farm setting which illustrates island culture and tradition.

Around the countryside

With my husband at the wheel, I was able to take in the countryside during our recent drive west of our home. Several items caught my eye along the way and the mid morning country roads in winter made it easy to stop, easier than it often is anyway.

This sign on a pole high above a scrap yard was an anomaly. 

This island province of Prince Edward doesn’t have moose unlike our home province, Newfoundland, where introduced moose thrived. In Newfoundland, moose and vehicular accidents are common and the reason we rarely drove on the highway at night. No such worry here so this sign reminds us of home. 

The owl statue on top of the pole is a deterrent to other birds but only works for a limited time. I didn’t notice the owl until I looked at the photo at home.

Overlooking a scrap yard, a tow truck has a jeep in tow. 

Both have seen better days and will spend the last of them here. A crow is along for this last ride.

I have never seen a two story gazebo. The view of the ocean must be spectacular from the top deck.

Most of us don’t keep one of these by the shed.

This old barn has seen better days. Farm equipment, animals, hay all may have had their time here. I wonder what is in there now?

The sound of the running water was a peaceful end to a winter drive.

The homestead

One day recently, in spite of the weather, my husband and I took the cameras and headed out, this time west of Summerside. It had been November when we last took a photo excursion. It was long overdue.

This old homestead fascinated me. It looked like some of the old trees lining the property had succumbed to the winds of Dorian like so many more of the island’s trees.

Here however, there wasn’t anyone to trim the trees and claim the firewood. 

The barn has a metal roof which has rusted and begun to rip from the beams. 

The clapboard and shingled exterior are the well worn grey that only time can impart. Some windows are missing. Looking at it from the right, one sees it is open to the elements. 

How much longer can it remain upright?

Right of the barn, what may be the original house still stands behind its larger descendent.

The old house is adjacent to a barn of the same size. It was common for animals to be kept close to, or even in the houses at one time.

The newer house was painted white and had a third floor to include rooms in the attic. A family had more space in this house, the front facade hiding the extension at the back of the building. Time has not been kind to this old place.

Where are the owners of this property? Did they die without descendants or is everyone gone from the island now? Did they try to sell this place without success and now it is left to ruin? The old place once was filled with the laughter of children, clothes on the line, supper cooking, friends and relatives, the smell and sounds of animals and hay. Now the elements have their way.

Any time I see an old homestead left to ruin, the song Where the alders grow by Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers comes to mind. You can give it a listen here.

It brings the old place to life.

The burn

We stood in silence and watched the flames. The heat, which had been intense, was not so much now as the old barn was consumed by the fiery beast. 

It belched a huge cloud of smoke which was carried away from us by the wind. 

The sounds of the burning timbers drowned out the noise of the pumps, vehicles and fire fighters.

The old barn was on my friend, Lucy’s property. 

A controlled burn by the volunteer fire department of Kinkora was a training exercise

a and a quick way to dispose of the dilapidated structure. Lucy had purchased the property from her friend, Gerard, who was there to watch the proceedings.

Lucy, Gerard and I watched as the ten fire fighters arrived with trucks including a tanker, two pumper trucks, 

and a rescue vehicle and set up their equipment. Rural Prince Edward Island has artesian wells which don’t have enough water pressure to supply the hoses. Because pumper trucks have a limited amount of water on them when they arrive at a fire, water must be tanked to a fire site where the pumper trucks provide the pressure to force the water through the hoses. 

We watched as the water was emptied from the tanker into two reservoirs and it took only a few minutes to fill one of them and part of the other. 

Then the tanker left to refill. The fire fighters worked efficiently to set up the equipment necessary to spray the grass around the old structure.

The chief kept a sharp eye on the situation and directed his crew where he saw a need. 

Sparks rose high into the air though they posed no threat to the house or the out building. The fire fighters checked the buildings periodically to see if they were hot, then sprayed them down with water via the pumper trucks.

They were concerned especially about the windows of the house which, if too hot, would break when the cold water hit the glass.

As the last of the tallest timbers disappeared, Gerard said, “I wonder what father would think of this.”

“I wondered how you felt about it,” I said. Then added, “How old was the barn?”

Gerard, from the seat of his walker, spoke of the one hundred and fifty year old building which his father had bought from the Duffy family. His earliest memories of the barn go back to age four. By the time he was six, he was driving a tractor.

He remembered both his mother and father around the barn where they kept cows and the horses used to plow the fields. They both worked hard, as did the children as they grew.

Gerard remembered how his father reconfigured the barn over time and you could see, as the flames reflected in his fading eyes, the memories were easily accessible in his mind’s eye. He didn’t want to miss this occasion, the end of Duffy’s barn.

Later, Lucy asked Gerard if he wanted to go back to the Home and he said, “Yes.” 

You can't burn the memories from a mind and the feelings from a heart.