Jemseg Ferry Crossing
Like Choleena DiTullio from Sackville, N.B., and Tim Van Hinte from Moncton, I think that caring about what we’re putting into the air, the ground and our water supply isn’t a fringe enviro-geekie-type thing. Nope, it’s just plain ol’ common sense.
I met Choleena and Tim on the Fredericton, N.B., to Charlottetown, P.E.I., leg on Day 18 of my cross-Canada tour. What can I say, I’m an extrovert.
Like me, Choleena is perky, genuine and likes to have fun. I get my kicks from saving fuel while providing a good time on the road, and Choleena, among her many “green” endeavors, makes art — more than 500 pieces so far — out of what other people throw away. I got a good look at her “fish art” and you can, too, at www.Choleena.com. Her next piece will begin as a throw-away bicycle and end as a sculpture that she calls the “life cycle.” I laughed my IMA (Integrate Motor Assist) off at that one. Choleena . . . you crack me up.
Choleena DiTullio and her painting "Adirondack Fish" made from all the parts of old adirondack chair!
She also maintains a blog to help people who want to do their green duty, but find the whole issue a little daunting.
“The environment is such a big thing that it’s difficult to know where to begin. I set out to do one thing ever day, no matter how small, to make a difference.”
It’s actually pretty easy when you break it down the way Choleena has at choleena.blogspot.com.
Tooling around tiny Sackville, home of the famed Mount Allison University, there’s a beautiful marsh with a boardwalk and the townspeople are progressive, yet laid back in an enlightened granola book-worm kind of way. I love it here. And apparently they love me, too, as Choleena handed me the keychain to the town, which I will wear on my dashboard with pride.
Just up the road a ways, bye (the Maritime accent is easy for a Honda to pick up, eh), Moncton is joined to Sackville with a stretch of road strafed with enough potholes to shake the lugnuts off any self-respecting car. I thought the potholes on the Toronto-to-Toronto leg of my trip were bad, but shoddy and crumbling highway infrastructure is just one problem this tiny province has.
Van Hinte, the Petitcodiac River Keeper
New Brunswick is full of forests, rocky terrain, marshes and rivers. And while you would think that’s a good thing, Tim Van Hinte, as the Petitcodiac River Keeper, feels the need to spend his working days using every legal means possible to make change. For all you flatlanders out there, the Petitcodiac is a unique tidal river that runs right through the middle of the Metropolitan Moncton area with a population somewhere north of 100,000 good-natured souls. Twice a day the water from the Bay of Fundy flows upstream (tide comes in), and twice a day it flows back out. For whatever reason, the river was bisected with a causeway some 40 years ago, and Tim the River Keeper, as well as his hundreds of supporters, have been trying to have it removed to restore the natural flow — and fish stock — such as Atlantic Salmon.
“There are 10 species of fish in the Petitcodiac and they can’t get up the river to spawn.”
The river is a huge issue here in Moncton, hard fought from both sides of the coin. Tim tells me that he and his group have finally won out as the causeway will be replaced by a bridge in a few years, but there’s another problem . . . there’s an old landfill right beside the Peticodiac. It looks like the River Keeper has his work cut out for him. You can find out more at www.petitcodiac.org.
Confederation Bridge to Prince Edward Island
But this is just one waterway. Today marks the first time since I left the West Coast that I’ve seen the Atlantic Ocean.
After wriggling my rock-hard low-rolling-resistance tires through a 50-kilometre pothole-infested stretch of two-lane in eastern New Brunswick — with patch on top of patch on top of patch — that somehow passes for the Tran-Canada highway, my headlights practically fell out of their sockets at the sight of the Confederation Bridge that links New Brunswick to Prince Edward Island. If you’ve never set tire to the surface of Mars, P.E.I has to come close. The Martian dirt is everywhere, from the back roads and rolling hills of farmer’s fields to the sand on Brackley and Cavendish Beaches on the northeast shore that faces the mighty Atlantic. Next stop, Ireland.
How I actually found those beaches is a bit of miracle since a map of P.E.I. reveals a Web of narrow highways that run parallel but not north, south, east and west. Thank goodness for my onboard Navigation system that apparently requires more skill than the onboard journalists have to actually use it, because there’s so much to see here that it’s easy to lose track of where you are and the direction you’re heading. P.E.I. is a giant playground and Land of Temptation: parked at the foot of a ski hill wondering how much juice it would take to slalom uphill; parked with two wheels in the sand wondering how to get around a gate to gain beach access; parked on the shoulder of the road by a lighthouse knowing I could cover every road on this entire island without having to fill up.
Although I had consumed less than a quarter tank of gas en route to a 5.2-l/100 km for the day, my human counterparts spent the better part of the evening refueling at Fish Bones, located in Charlottetown’s quaint downtown, where they feasted on raw tuna, salmon and oysters that were served up by Ontario-transplant Beth who simply loves island life. I can see why. The slow pace here is perfect for a certain Insight Hybrid to do what I do best: conserve while having fun.
