e-Biking Delight

Biking Prince Edward Island, Canada

I tap the little tree icon on my Jabra hearing aid app—the setting for outdoors. Helmet buckled, bike charged, heart beating with anticipation. I slip into single file with five other riders on Route 6, just outside Kensington on Prince Edward Island—the red-soiled jewel of Canada’s eastern coast. We pedal north toward the Gulf of St. Lawrence, the crisp Canadian autumn air filling our lungs. Overhead, wild geese honk as they carve a V through the gray sky. I can’t help but smile at the parallel: like them, we journey together—stronger, steadier, each of us carrying the others toward a shared destination.

This moment began years ago, back in 2020, when Covid nudged us outdoors in search of exercise and connection. What started as short local rides soon became something bigger: a passion for seeing the world on two wheels. Together we’ve cycled South Carolina to Savannah, Moab’s rugged White Rim Trail, the shimmering Dalmatian Islands off Croatia, and the storied Danube from Prague to Budapest.

Now, in our seventies, we’ve transitioned to e-bikes—not as surrender, but as celebration. They allow us to keep going, keep exploring, keep saying yes. This year we chose a self-guided tour of Prince Edward  Island. PEI Cycling Tours With GPS, maps, and the confident navigation of Karen and Carolyn, we meander at our own rhythm from town to town, harbor to harbor. Next stop: Cavendish, the home of beloved author L. M. Montgomery, who gifted the world Anne of Green Gables in 1908.  

Montgomery once called PEI “the land I have loved from my childhood,” and that love glows through every page she wrote. Anne’s imagination, irrepressible spirit, and reverence for beauty still capture hearts worldwide. While riding through Anne’s landscapes, I feel like I am pedaling straight into her story. Golden dandelions flicker along the roadside, dancing against bright green grass. Laundry flaps from backyard lines, stirring a memory: my seven-year-old self with my mom, struggling to pinch open a wooden clothespin to hang a damp pillowcase. Rural life in PEI feels to be simply peaceful touched with inviting charm and wonder. Anne would have understood.

Our touring days roll by in a patchwork quilt of farmland stitched in rows of potato plants with yellowing leaves soon to be harvested. White-spired churches stand watch over weathered graveyards. Along tidal inlets, fishermen haul mussels and oysters—flavors we later savor, steaming and fresh, at every inn and café. At night, we gather in historic homes turned inns. Over oak banisters and beneath stained glass, I imagine families of another century hosting parlor dinners or rocking on wide verandas. Some things—laughter, shared meals, the warmth of gathering—feel timeless. And indeed it does feel in PEI like time has stood still, as if not a whole lot has changed through the decades.

After six days and 170 miles, we arrive at Souris on the island’s eastern shore. Pedal by pedal, mile by mile, we have traveled not just across an island but deeper into connection: to the land, to adventure, to one another, and to our own imaginations—just like Anne herself. She once said: “When you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worthwhile. It's delightful when your imaginations come true, isn't it?”

Yes, it is. And on our e-bikes, it still does.