My Apple AirTag arrived today by FedEx. Apparently the relaxed “you don’t actually need to sign for anything” COVID regime is over, so I got my first “your package will be at the depot after 4:30 p.m. for you to pick up” sticker on the door in 18 months.

With the FedEx depot located right on the Confederation Trail, it seemed like a reasonable thing to cycle out for the pickup. So that’s what I did:

I cycled out the Confederation Trail to MacAleer Drive, and then decided that, rather than cycling back the same way, I’d explore the terrain beyond, cycling up MacAleer to the Brackley Point Road, and down a harrowing stretch thereof to Oak, which I used to cut across to the St. Peters Road megasection, where I joined the new Riverside Drive AT path toward home. It being 26 degrees out, my challenge with this trip wasn’t so much the physical effort to pedal–it was mostly flat or a slight grade–but the heat. So I stopped at Riverview Country Market for a water bottle fill-up and a rest before the last dash home.

Total trip, home to FedEx and home, was 15.11 km. The ride from home to FedEx took 20 minutes; the ride from FedEx to Riverview Country Market took 25 minutes, and the ride from there to home was a quick 10 minutes. Despite the heat, it was a completely reasonable ride for an out-of-shape neo-cyclist like me, and I’d encourage anyone to give it a try next time you’re in the same situation.

Here’s the GeoJSON of my route, annotated with guidance at significant points.

Trailer.

The Shed has these sweets, made for them by Angel, that are apparently gluten free and dairy free, but are nonetheless very very good; kind of like Nanaimo bars, but less all-consuming. They go very well with coffee.

You are allowed to order them as long as you leave one for me.

Travel Is No Cure for the Mind, from Lawrence Yeo:

When we are obsessed with travel, we are intently focused on changing and revising our external venue while neglecting the one constant we all travel with: our minds.


If your mind is not at ease, then the same angst and restlessness you feel today will inevitably make itself known as you travel. That point can be delayed through novel experiences, but regardless of where you are, an uneasy mind will always unveil itself in the end.

I unknowingly ended up wearing an outfit today that could be the uniform for a casual boutique hotel.

From the latest issue of Huck, an article about Bicycle Stokvel:

It’s easy to find Lesogo Konupi on the block. A small bicycle figurine on his postbox reveals him as the owner of a certain rectangular house, which stands surrounded by grass in the middle of a small plot – just like his neighbour’s to the left, his other neighbour’s to the right, and most of the houses in Vosloorus, the township he lives in.

The sun is rising slowly this morning, the sky is a crisp, cloudless blue, and the residents of Vosloorus – or ‘Vosloo’– are waking up to the cries of the Kunguru, a bird named after the distinctive sounds it makes. Situated 25 kilometers south-east of Johannesburg, the township is home to around 160,000 people.

Lesego is already wide awake and full of energy, despite the fact it’s 6am on a Sunday morning. Dressed in a beige cap, white shirt and black shorts, he smiles as he opens the metal gate to his plot. “I had to be ready,” he says. It’s a ride day.

The 36-year-old was born here, just like the other co-founders of Bicycle Stokvel: a collective who combine art and cycling to create new opportunities among areas around Joburg. The group – “a movement by creatives, for creatives” – launched around five years ago. For Lesego and his friends, Bongani Maleswena and Lungile Mofokeng, it was about trying to solve some of the problems they had identified in the townships they themselves grew up in.

“We wanted to create a space for people like us,” says Lesego, who works as a photographer and art director. “Because if we don’t have that space, you end up in other spaces – ones you don’t want to be in.”

My friend Carmin Smith-Hanson made a documentary about the demise of the last grain elevator in Meacham, Saskatchewan. There’s a lot of wisdom in the film.

Many many years ago, well before Olivia was born, Catherine and I bought a canoe, from Sporting Intentions, two locations ago.

We had aspirations, and while we did put in a few times—in Bonshaw, in Morell, and once, when Olivia was young, in Johnsons River—the canoe has mostly sat in our carriage house for the last 20 years.

This year I decided to see if I could resurrect it, and Olivia helped me pull it out to take a look.

While the hull is in good shape, its Achilles heel has been rivets that have corroded over time, causing the seat in the bow to become detached, and rendering the bow deck unstable. Fortunately, Sporting Intentions was able to put me in touch with someone who can re-rivet these back into place; he’s coming over next week.

Which left me with the question of how to transport the canoe to water. It seemed absurd, given that I live 450 m from Charlottetown Harbour, to think about driving the canoe anywhere. So, instead, I ordered a canoe-carrying trailer for my bicycle from Guelph-based Wicycle, a company I’ve long-admired. It arrived yesterday, and I assembled it today (an easy snap-together process). Getting it under the canoe was a one-person job, and the bicycle-side hitch, while a little fiddly, was also easily installed.

If the repair goes as expected next week, I should be on the road and down to the water the first calm day that follows. You’ll recognize me as the guy towing a canoe.

I had no idea that Sharee Fitch runs a seasonal bookstore just across:

Writer, poet, educator, Sheree Fitch & husband Gilles Plante, a retired CBC cameraman and ENG producer & carpenter live on the hobby farm Happy Doodle Do with horses, hens, a donkey named Willow, a cat named Pippy Longstocking, dogs named Burns and Whimsy and a few lambs in the summer.

Sheree’s passion for books and Gilles the builder‘s love of making things, their combined commitment to rural coastal Atlantic Canada and community led them to dream of opening Mabel Murple’s Book Shoppe and Dreamery.

Yes, a seasonal indie book shoppe and fresh air experience on a dirt road!

River John is just 30 minutes from the Caribou ferry.

(via Bren Simmers, who will be part of Gaspereau Day there, tomorrow, July 18, 2021).

A good title for an autobiography.