Trip 45 — Prince Edward Island Walk
Day 21: Montague to Murray River via Gaspereaux
Wednesday, 20 August 2025
Today: 49877 steps/40.13 km/24.94 mi/6h 43m
Total: 976593 steps/705.42 km/438.33 mi/129h 8m
The temperatures went up slightly today, but it was still excellent walking weather. In 21 days on the road, I have yet to deal with rain. I took the back roads out of Montague, between houses and the Montague Consolidated School, and then across the river, past the museum and the Maritime Madness Hot Sauce Company (too much to carry, alas), and uphill to the start of Route 17.
The direct way to Murray River was straight down Route 4, but the island bulges eastward here. Route 17 follows the coast around, and I walked the entirety of it. As elsewhere in the east, the shoulder on Route 17 was wide and good for walking.
Today's composer musings from Julie Nesrallah: Mozart liked to sign off with wordplay on his name, such as Trazom or Gnagflow (his names spelled backwards) or, when feeling particularly cute, Mozartini — something I'd be happy to drink at the end of a day's walk. And Samuel Barber once encountered an usher who turned from official to officious when the composer asked to switch seats at a concert featuring his music. Initially balking at the request, the usher said, "We want you to be as comfortable as possible, Mr. Britten."
The music was on the faster side today, good for a quick pace, though not as fast as on Monday. Beyond the community of Sturgeon, the paved shoulder went away, but there was little traffic and little reason for trucks to come this way.
There were countless bales of hay, though I never saw any of the associated animals. Sometimes they were alone, one giant roll presiding over the grass; sometimes they dotted a vast tract of land on a slight slope, a complex matrix, all facing the same way. They seemed to be set up for a game, ready to tumble downhill, to be dodged by the competitors. Loggers were at work; I looked up to see a tree fall.
One pond held a sedge of great blue herons. They were arranged in a circle, as if holding a meeting, assigning a pair of them the errand of finding lunch. After Pembroke, the hay gave way to cornfields.
I passed several cemeteries whose stones bore the same names I saw on mailboxes and streets. On this island more than others, families keep roots for generations in the same area, and, for instance, several Hicken homes were interspersed with a Hicken Lane and multiple Hicken grave markers over a stretch of several kilometers. The same could be said of Dunn and MacLure nomenclature. It was interesting to have witnessed this phenomenon for several weeks, but for different groups of names in different parts of the island.
I looked for a place to take a lunch break (a sandwich from the supermarket in Montague) and, after searching for several kilometers, settled on the steps of a decommissioned church building just above the turnoff to Poverty Beach. A few minutes after I resumed, just after the road swung around to the right, I found a more appropriate resting point: a bench at the side of a driveway with the Island Walk logo and the inscription "In Honor of the ISLANDERS who are so helpful and kind to walkers." I didn't need another stop, but I sat for a few seconds just to show my appreciation.
What I never found was a bathroom. It was as long a stretch as the day around Rocky Point. It was all main-road walking, often with houses in view or fields that I was loath to irrigate in my special way. When it was forest, the road sloped steeply at the sides, making it difficult to seclude myself. There were gaps in the traffic of two minutes, but I was sure a postal van or police vehicle or a busload of tourists with telephoto lenses would come by just as I reached a point of peak unstoppable flow.
Besides, I was making good time and didn't want to stop, not even to remove a pesky pebble from my right shoe. I passed a couple of children's camps and then made the left turn to rejoin Route 4 for the final few minutes into Murray River.
It's Liz's last night, and I invoked Rule 2C of the AWKWARD one more time so that we could have a nice dinner back in Montague — Murray River has one restaurant, open 17 hours a week, and I'll get to try it tomorrow anyway. Sitting outside, in view of the river, we had a bunch of our favorites — mussels, tuna, scallops, lobster, Caesar drinks, and a wine made a few kilometers away — and then we came back to the cozy Olde Anchor B&B. The giant dogs welcomed us, ready to play, but the mosquitoes seem to have returned. I guess it's time to carry that bug spray again.
Go on to day 22
