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I realize I’m a couple of days earlier than usual posting, but there’s a reason — another one of those darn bridges is calling me.

I’ll explain. As I’ve written here before, I’m not a big fan of large bridges. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I’m not a big fan of heights. (Yes, I’ve jumped out of an airplane, but while it was fantastic it didn’t cure me.) I’m not afraid of either heights or bridges — it’s not that bad — but I prefer to avoid them when possible and when I can’t they make me uncomfortable.

Just a few weeks ago, to get to PEI, I had to ride across the Confederation Bridge. While I appreciate the engineering phenom that it is, I’ll admit I don’t enjoy the ride. Steve said at one point he was going to radio me to see how I was doing, but when he glanced back I looked so intense he decided to leave me alone. That was probably a good idea. However, having said that, the ride across was better for me this time than the last so I’m hopeful it will keep improving and eventually I won’t be uncomfortable at all. (Do you hear “yeah right” in your head too?)

My big regret with the Confederation Bridge is always amusing. Every time we’re going to cross I tell Steve I want to stop at the Gateway Village on the other side. In my head, I’m thinking about Cows ice cream. (I love ice cream!) But by the time I get across the bridge, my stomach is always in knots and all I want is a coffee. Mind you, we did find a great cup of coffee there and enjoyed it on a little deck where Jake was welcome so it wasn’t all bad.

Back to my reason for posting early. (I know I’m rambling a bit, but I am, after all, writing about bridges.) Our little motorcycle riding trio is about to head out on … wait for it …. Vacation! Finally! The clapboard is on the side of the house and painted, the driveway has new crushed rock, most of the house is painted and what’s left, along with the new upper deck railing, can wait until we get back. It is time to ride!

We’re meeting our friends Dennis and Heather in New England, which means, we’re going across the Penobscot Narrows Bridge again. The cable-stay bridge spans more than 2,100 feet and it’s the second scariest bridge I seem to end up riding across on a fairly regular basis. It’s actually a beautiful thing to look at, if I didn’t have to cross it.

However, for vacation, time away with my boys and two weeks of riding, I can handle a few minutes of discomfort.

There won’t be a post next week, but Jake and I will be back after that to tell you about our latest RoadDog adventures.

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You know how sometimes you visit a place and it’s so perfect, you have such a good time, that you’re kind of afraid to go back just in case you ruin the memory? Well, me too.

I confess I experienced a bit of trepidation while we were in PEI a few weeks ago and decided to go back to Northport. It’s a small village that we had visited a few years ago and had such an absolutely perfect experience that I was a little concerned that it just couldn’t be as good the second time around.

I am so, so, so happy to say that I was wrong.

As we were leaving the Atlanticade bike rally that Friday morning, Steve suggested we take a ride up to Northport for lunch. We’d talked about maybe going back there while on the island and I was a bit uneasy at the time, but when Steve suggested it on a beautiful sunny day I jumped at the chance and I’m so glad I did.

We had a great ride up, parked in same parking lot as the last time and headed for the Boatshop Restaurant. Having eaten there on the deck with Jake on our last visit, I had a few qualms as Steve went inside to see if we were welcome again. I shouldn’t have worried. He returned moments later to tell me that a waitress would meet us on the deck and would even be bringing a bowl of water for our RoadDog.

I’m delighted to say it was just like the last time. We ate the best lobster sandwiches with the breeze blowing off the water while looking at one of the greatest views imaginable. Jake, of course, ate lots of lobster from both of our sandwiches and couldn’t have been happier when first the waitress and then the cook stopped to make his acquaintance.

In fact, I can say this trip was better than the last because we had the most amazing desserts. Steve’s strawberry lemon mousse thing was so pretty I actually took a photo of it, which I never do, and my bread pudding with brown sugar sauce tasted just heavenly. It was as if they’d melted fudge and poured it over the top. In my head, I judge desserts on whether I think they’re worth the calories and this one so was.

It was such a great lunch and such a great visit followed by a nice ride back to Summerside. My boys and I had a great day.

Sometimes it’s okay to go back a second time.

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I’ve been grappling for more than a week now with what to write here about our stay at Stonehame and I’m still not entirely sure what to say. I am, however, entirely certain that I won’t do it justice no matter how hard I try.

For the second half of our extra long Canada Day weekend, Steve, Jake and I stayed at Stonehame, which Steve somehow stumbled across while scouring the internet for places to visit. It’s in Scotsburn, just a short distance from Pictou.

Stonehame is a resort of sorts, but that name somehow implies an atmosphere that really isn’t accurate. Perhaps it would be better described as a retreat.

It is perched on top of Fitzpatrick Mountain on land that has been in the same family for generations. Maybe it’s the mountain or maybe it’s that historical family connection, I have no idea, but one almost instantly realizes on arrival that Stonehame is a special place. That feeling just continues to grow and blossom as you spend more time there.

There are 10 log chalets at the very top of the mountain and 15 lodge rooms slightly further down the hill. The retreat has a lovely swimming pool and a hot tub. It also has a pond and barn and a pasture where two huge work horses and a llama graze peacefully. The horses, Thunder and King, take sleigh rides in the winter. I have absolutely no explanation for the llama, other than that it provides amusement for guests. Both Jake and I were fascinated by the creature and spent lots of time watching it from the balcony of our room.

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Stonehame is pristine, it’s beautiful, the views are stunning, but it’s something about the birds singing and the breezes blowing through the trees that somehow makes it peaceful in an almost magical sort of way. It’s a place to just breathe and be. I don’t know how else to describe it. Even our RoadDog seemed perfectly prepared to relax there, lying on the balcony or strolling about the grounds, never in a rush, just content to enjoy his time there.

It’s a place where you could sit quietly for hours and read a book. Or you could amble about listening to the birds and get your thoughts in order. Or you could just sit and not think and, as I said earlier, just breathe.

That’s not to imply there’s not lots to do. There are movies to borrow and barbecues for guests to use. There are lots of fire pits and, although we were alone, we could easily envision wonderful evenings spent around a fire with friends, strumming on guitars and toasting marshmallows. The pool was lovely and warm. There’s a children’s play area, a sandbox, basketball and volleyball nets. It could be lively and, at times, it was with other guests enjoying all those amenities.

But I’m pretty sure the real treasure of Stonehame is the tranquility. It’s a little piece of peace.

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As I wrote here last week, our little motorcycle-riding trio spent part of Canada Day in Pictou and I was struck yet again by what a lovely little town it is.

Pictou is like so many other towns we’ve visited in the Maritimes. At some point in fairly recent years, town leaders must have recognized what a potentially valuable tourism resource the waterfront was and a destination was created. Closer to home, the same thing has happened in Mahone Bay and Lunenburg. In fact, we’ve visited lots of small and not-quite-so-small towns in New England with a similar vibe.

There’s something special about wandering along pretty streets, popping into quaint stores or just peeking in shop windows, stopping for a coffee or a light meal in a little restaurant, feeling a cooling sea breeze blowing off the water as you just stroll and enjoy the day. In Pictou, that atmosphere is heightened even more by the marina and boardwalk, historic displays and, of course, the Hector replica with its masts reaching skyward.

We were also delighted to enjoy a busy indoor farmers market while we were there and couldn’t have been happier when a gentleman near the door invited us to bring Jake inside. We were peeking our heads in deciding if we should go in one at a time when he spoke up and it made such a wonderful difference to our afternoon. We were able to meander and see all there was to see, purchase some lovely bread and a bottle of wine to have with dinner that evening, and chat with vendors and customers alike, many of whom wanted to take a few minutes from their day to meet our RoadDog. In fact, we met one woman who previously nurtured and bred Cairn terriers and we had a lovely chat about our dogs.

Steve managed to find us some very good coffee in takeaway cups from one of the restaurants which we enjoyed at a picnic table in the shade of a tree. We watched children running back and forth very busily passing out Canada Day goodies as Jake lazed in the cool grass (after he was certain we had only coffee and nothing he could eat, of course).

It was a great afternoon. I’m not so naive as to think that Pictou is perfect, I’m sure it has its issues just like any other town (I definitely noticed some roads that could use some repairs), but on that day at that time under that sun with the breeze blowing in our faces, it was perfect for us.

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Forget writing about haircuts, wood piling and house painting, this weekend was all about riding.

Steve and I took a couple of extra days off work and made it a very long weekend taking our RoadDog on the road. Then we split our mini-vacay in two, making it seem more like a week. Sometimes we have the very best ideas.

We left Thursday and headed to PEI to spend some time at Atlanticade in Summerside. (Yes, that meant I had to cross the Confederation Bridge and yes I still don’t like bridges and yes my stomach rolled, but at least this time I didn’t shake, so I guess that’s progress.)

Atlanticade was fun and we were there early so it wasn’t as hectic as I’m sure it was by the true weekend. There were still quite a lot of bikes and bikers around. We spent a couple of days hanging around with some of our bike club friends, met some new friends and toured some of our favourite island roads. It was great.

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Our little riding trio then departed the island on Saturday and rode along the Northumberland Strait to Scotsburn. Why Scotsburn you might ask? Steve found us a fantastic place to stay there called Stonehame. Wow! Just wow!

I’ll write more about Stonehame another time, but I’ll just say it might be the most relaxing, peaceful place I’ve ever been. Perched on Fitzpatrick Mountain, the lodges and chalets are surrounded by woods and fields and hills and … tranquility.

We rode into Pictou to take in some Canada Day festivities there, Jake sporting a Canada Day bandana a lovely woman gave him in Pugwash on Saturday. Between Pictou’s beautiful waterfront and the wonder of Fitzpatrick Mountain, I was very much reminded of the fantastic privilege of living in this country.

It might have been the best Canada Day ever.

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