Dynamite Trail

I honestly don't know why we feel the need to lug bikes along on road trips.

One year, when we travelled to PEI, when the kids were 10 years younger than they are now, we packed up our minivan and headed east. DW insisted that we bring our bicycles, so we strapped two small bikes and two mountain bikes to the back and went.

We rode the bikes once.

Driving to Cardigan, we took a 12-kilometre route, along old railway lines, small roads, and nature trails—part of the Confederation Trail—to the small town of Montague. What should have taken us about 45 minutes took us more than twice as long. Our youngest, just 5 at the time, constantly stopped, said she was tired, said she hated cycling. She fell once, mostly because she refused to continue. When flying insects buzzed around us, she would stop and scream.

We tried to be patient, and eventually, we made it to a small café, along the harbourfront, near Montague's tourist agency. We had lunch on an outdoor patio, letting our kids have whatever they wanted for their efforts, and we all calmed down.

I had one of the worst dishes of seafood chowder that I've ever had in the Maritimes, but at least we all were able to get some nourishment.

I then had to cycle back to our vehicle, which we left in Cardigan, and drive to Montague to pick up DW and the kids who swore to never ride again.

Last year, when we rented a camper van, DW again insisted that we bring bicycles. The kids refused, so we brought our oldest daughter's bike, which DW could also ride, and one of our mountain bikes, which both DW and I could ride, if our daughter wanted to go for a spin with one of her parents.

She didn't, and it wasn't until we had driven all over Prince Edward County, had returned home, dropped the kids off with their grandparents, and DW and I continued out to Boucherville, that we rode the bikes.

Bikes on the back of our rental camper, last fall.

Once, around the campgrounds, and another time, from the Atwater Market, in Montreal, to the Old Port, and back.

This year, for our summer vacation, I told DW that there was no point in bringing bikes. For the minuscule amount of time that we actually ride them, versus schlepping them around, it wasn't worth the bother.

DW never heeds my advice.

We took my hybrid bike and DD17's bike (which she actually rides around our neighbourhood, with her friends). DW fretted about leaving them locked to the vehicle while we were stopped in Lévis (they were fine), when we were in Moncton (they were fine), and Québec City (they were fine). In New Brunswick, I rode my bike for a couple of kilometres, following DW as she jogged. I kept her company but never broke a sweat. She never once rode the other bike while we were in East Beaubassin.

The only time that we made use of both bikes was on our third day of our vacation, in Nova Scotia. Our rental cottage, in Western Shore, backed on to an old railway line that had been torn up. The trail runs from Halifax, following the Southern Shore, and ends up in Lunenburg. It's known as the Rum Runner's Trail.

The 25-kilometre stretch of trail from our cottage to Lunenburg started as the Chester Connection section and included a stretch that was known as the Dynamite Trail, which began after we crossed a train bridge that had been converted to a boardwalk. For the most part, it's flat and easy, as it follows an old rail line. The slow climbs match those that a train could handle, so for cyclists like us, it was no challenge.

Sure, this looked easy. But we were on an old train bridge that had been converted into a nice boardwalk.

Except, parts of the trail become soft pebbles in some areas, sand in others. In these stretches, I could really feel my foot straining to negotiate these loose parts of the trail. What should have taken us an hour to cover, took us about an hour and a half.

The final stretch of the trail, the Bay to Bay section, got so difficult at times that we would get off our bikes and walk them to a place that was more manageable. We walked them again, up Lincoln Street, in Lunenburg, but got to ride on a downhill part to our final stop.

When DW and I reached the centre of Lunenburg, our kids were waiting there for us. DD17, who has her drivers license, drove to the seaside town and allowed us to attach our bikes to the back of our vehicle. We then went in search of food, where I had some much-deserved beer and some of the best seafood chowder I've ever had in the Maritimes.

That was our only bike ride in Nova Scotia.

It's not that I protest cycling on our trips. It's just that I question the value in bringing our bikes along for the minimal time we use them. If we used them every day, or even every other day, that's one thing. But for less than two hours over two weeks, it seems pointless.

For our next vacation, we'll be flying. Bikes don't fit in the overhead compartments.