Trip 45 — Prince Edward Island Walk
Day 20: Georgetown to Montague
Tuesday, 19 August 2025
Today: 23168 steps/18.26 km/11.35 mi/3h 12m
Total: 926716 steps/665.29 km/413.39 mi/122h 25m
Named after King George III, Georgetown sits at the confluence of the Brudenell and Montague rivers, and the Cardigan River — completing the area's Three Rivers designation — runs along the other side of the peninsula. Jean-Pierre Roma established one of the island's first French settlements here in the early 1700s, with the English arriving from 1802.
Georgetown's harbor is especially deep, and it was an important port, the last to succumb to the winter freeze. The railway arrived in 1875, and train and ferry schedules were coordinated. The old railbed, as elsewhere on the island, is now a part of the Confederation Trail, and it starts in a park by the meeting point of the two rivers, next to the Wheelhouse restaurant.
The trail soon took me into the woods. When I reached Route 3, I took the highway for a few kilometers, so as to follow the peninsula around more accurately and not retrace yesterday's steps.
My speed was a solid allegro, not yesterday's vivace but close to my target of ten minutes per kilometer. For a while I was in lockstep with the faster movements of Telemann's orchestral suites; keeping up with Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony was more of a challenge.
I returned to the trail after Montague Junction, a triangular section where trains would be pointed toward Cardigan, Georgetown, or Montague. The hour and a half from here to Montague was one of the more pleasant sections of trail, with apple trees, curves, and a bridge over an estuary with ducks.
It also had the most varied types of trail users. In addition to the usual bikers, there were the first walkers I'd seen anywhere on the trail, a jogger, dogs, a pair of kids on bikes with fishing rods and a bucket, and a rider in an electric wheelchair with a Canadian flag blowing from a pole.
Near the Montague end was the trail's most decked-out bench. It was festooned with colored triangles, and behind it were wooden statues of horses. Affixed to the trees were trivia questions pertaining to the annual Gold Cup and Saucer race. The youngest winner has been Leslie Waite, who won at age 20 with his horse, Dr. Walter C (in 1973, I learned when I opened the golden flap).
The trail ended at the foundations of the old turntable, used for rotating engines so that trains could head back toward Tignish. An information plaque showed the timetable for the old hourly ferry service between Montague and Georgetown, teasing me with memories of better transit days. Across the bridge, overlooking the attractive harbor from up on a hill, was the former post office, in a brick building that became the island's first museum.
It was an unfortunate twist of fate that my short walking day coincided with Liz's longest working day, but she had time to meet me for lunch at Bogside Brewing. I was fond of their red ale, and we enjoyed our salad and sandwiches once we figured out the menus. There were four of them, each with a separate name, shape, size, typeface, and food category (seafood, tacos, barbecue, and pizza), and it seemed impossible that they weren't takeaway menus from other establishments. But the kitchen here was responsible for them all.
That odd setup continued across the town, as I discovered when I dined alone at the Main Street Pub during Liz's last sessions. The name promised a convivial atmosphere with a mixture of residents and visitors, where perhaps I could have a pint and a bite and a chat at the bar.
I could barely find it. It was hidden down a stairway from a pizza joint — and not in a cool, speakeasy kind of way, as Liz suggested with excitement when I mentioned it. There was no one there, not even an employee. The tables were covered with white tablecloths, and on each was a prominent standing menu offering Indian food. The TV set was on at the well-stocked bar, and in back was a room of video gaming machines.
A young woman of obvious Indian descent appeared and handed me three menus, all with different layouts — pizza, burgers, and other pub fare — and explained that there was no Indian food because the chef wasn't there today. She was very friendly, and I listened to classic rock in the dining room while I ate a small 11-topping pizza (the "Ultimate") and drank cold white wine and lukewarm water.
Air Canada reached a deal with its crew, but flights are just starting up tonight, and I'm glad Liz has a flight on American on Thursday, even if she has to drive to Halifax for it. I was even starting to wonder about my flight home next Monday.
Tomorrow, of course, I have a long walking day and Liz's workday is short. But I'm grateful for the unplanned days together, and not just because I won't have had to carry my clothing for an extra 100 kilometers.
Go on to day 21
