As Luck Would Have It

If you have been reading this blog since my cross Canada trek, and to those who have, thank you for doing so, then you will know that at some point in the journeys, I inevitably reflect on my good fortune.

This trip has been no different, and though it might have seemed to have started unceremoniously, even on that first day I was lucky to have spotted the broken clip on my pack, to have found a solution in Barrie, and to have ridden without any further issues.

Similarly, though I have been met with rain, I have been lucky to have finished riding on many days just before the rain has arrived.

Yesterday I was truly lucky once again. As many of you know, I wanted to visit Wolfville, because my friend, Dorothy Walker, had lived here for many years, as well as having a cottage nearby in Kingsport. I had known Dorothy all my life essentially, since she had been a friend of my mom’s since the 50s, but I had come to know her and her sister, Joan, much better when I was at Dalhousie.

Dorothy lived to be 100, and on one of my last visits with Dorothy, in 2019, when she was 98, we had visited her cottage together. (Thanks, mum, for sending the photo of us).

My time in Wolfville was in a funny way an homage to Dorothy, or rather to my friendship with her, as I did a few of the things we both enjoyed, including having an nice cream cone at Hennigar’s farm market. It did not disappoint, especially as the young woman scooping the ice cream was very generous.

I then cycled out to see her cottage. It is right along the bluffs, down which there is a winding system of steps, and ropes to the beach. The tide was just coming in, and the sand and bluffs were as beautiful as ever.

I thought I would recognize the cottage right away, it had only been seven years after all, but as I got to the very end of the road, I wasn’t sure. As I was turning around, I saw a couple on their bikes riding out of the yard I thought had been Dorothy’s, if somewhat changed, so I took a chance, and I asked them if they had known Dorothy.

Not only were they also old family friends of Dorothy’s, it was Dorothy’s cottage they had ridden out from, and they had purchased it. As soon as Heather introduced herself and her husband, Dave, I recognized her family name, as Dorothy had talked about the family for years.

The three of us rode to Canning together, recounting stories about Dorothy, and our respective adventures at the cottage. It was as if Dorothy was there, and had she been, I know she would have loved riding along with us, commenting on the tides and everything else along the route.

I don’t think I would have been sad to have ridden away from the cottage not sure I had seen it, but I certainly wouldn’t have been as elated as I felt after meeting Heather and Dave, and knowing that the cottage was well loved, and was being shared with another whole generation.

After we parted ways, I rode back into Wolfville, via Port Williams, the same way I had ridden in the day before, but this time I was neither exhausted nor rattled, but instead joyful for having spent the day in a place I loved so much. I stopped again at Hennigar’s to pick up some groceries for dinner, and of course a good supply for oatcakes for the ride today, and then rode back up to my wee cottage, stopping to get a view of Wolfville from Ridge road.

I had done a laundry in the morning, and left everything drying near the heater, which was great as everything was bone dry, although now the cottage was 100 degrees, and it took a few hours with the air conditioning on to bring it back to a bearable temperature. Luckily, I had an NS cider to sip on.

Today is the last leg of the journey, about 110 km of hilly roads and rail trail, to get to my friend Lisa’s place outside of Halifax, in Ferguson Cove. See you there!