Emerson's Solo Tour - Tales from the Trails

November 6, 2026

“For the Pursuit of a Struggle”

By Emerson Lover

For a couple of years, a trip like this had been on my heart and mind, although I knew little of what it would look like or actually be like. There was something idyllic about the thought of the open road, the mundane act of biking, and seeing a part of the country I'd never been to at a snail's pace.

My mission was to take a step away from my daily routine – something that had begun to feel futile, redundant, and infinite. Having just graduated from six years of post-secondary school, the timing seemed perfect. This trip felt like a golden ticket towards a refreshed spirit and answers for the future.

The plan became nine days of biking, starting in Halifax and ending in Halifax. Over the course of those days, I would see the Bay of Fundy, the New Brunswick coast, the Confederation Bridge, the PEI red sand beaches, Charlottetown, the Confederation Trail, Pictou, the backwoods of Nova Scotia, and Halifax.

I’d heard of some others doing large bikepacking trips in various parts of the world, and the thought of doing something similar interested me. The planning part seemed like a large, exciting puzzle. There were several things I needed to understand in order to be successful with the setup and execution of the trip. Luckily, with so much content on YouTube and social media, I could figure out what exactly was necessary.

1. Bike Setup

2. Camping Setup

3. Route and Navigation

4. Fitness and Fuelling

5. Concluding Thoughts

Bike Setup

The bike that I rode was a Mikado Radisson steel-frame gravel touring bike purchased from Gremlins Bicycle Emporium, equipped with recent additions of a Brooks short-nose saddle and Shimano dual-type pedals for regular and clip-in cycling shoes. For bags, I had an Atwater Atelier handlebar bag, Ortlieb gravel back-rack panniers, a triangular frame bag, a dry bag for the top of the bag rack, and two feed bags.

I had never built my bike, taken it apart, or fixed much beyond putting my chain back on or changing a tire. So, when I arrived at the Halifax Stanfield Airport, I came to terms with the process of putting the bike together. I had it boxed by a friend at my neighbourhood bike shop who gave me some insight into the things I would need to do. I brought the tools I was told I’d need. The whole process of putting the wheels on, pumping the tires up, and attaching the handlebars, pedals, saddle, and quick-release brakes took about an hour. I was able to make an emergency call to my brother, who is my personal bike mechanic. He was able to help direct me on using a new hand pump I had brought and attaching the quick-release V-brakes. If I weren’t privileged to have someone who knows bikes on speed dial, there are many videos on YouTube that could have been used instead. Riding out of the airport with my newly assembled bike, I was a little afraid it would all fall apart as I rode. But the bike held, and I started my journey north away from Halifax with great joy.

Camping Setup

Having not done much camping, the tent (Rab Ridge Rader bivy tent) I brought was a major comfort adjustment. The first night was a bit scary and made me feel like I was in a coffin. I was not able to sit up or take off layers easily once in the tent. I felt exposed to anyone lurking in the dark forest. Luckily, after a long day of riding, I was exhausted and eager to go to bed. I was comfortable when I was lying down on my sleeping pad with my mummy bag and inflatable pillow. Although temperatures dropped to frost warnings of about five degrees Celsius, I was warm with my merino wool and fleece layers. When morning came, it was a beautiful experience to unzip the tent and peek out into the forest as the sun rose and came to brighten the camping spot. There was comedic relief in making it to another morning full of potential after surviving another night.

I developed a routine of packing up each morning that started with boiling water for coffee and oatmeal on my little butane stove attachment. While the water boiled or my coffee steeped, I would pack up my sleeping setup and work to hang the tent to dry over my picnic table or bike.

I initially thought I would “stealth camp” all nine nights in various spots: a beach, a park, a cemetery, etc. These suggestions for sleeping spots were eventually ruled out, given that, as a solo female traveller, my loved ones were a little fearful for my safety. For everyone’s peace of mind, I booked camping spots at various provincial parks around the Maritime provinces at a truly affordable price (under $30), as well as mixed in a few stays at a wooden cabin, a hostel, and a hotel. The scattered stays indoors allowed me to wash and dry the few clothes I brought and wore every day.

Route and Navigation

Over breakfast each morning, I would look over my route for the day. I had pre-built my routes for the first few days on Strava so I would have a baseline guide for a route that was bike-friendly-ish and relatively low in elevation. Strava allowed me to download the routes for navigation when I lost service in the middle of the woods. I also carried a paper road map with me, both as a backup and for novelty.

For the first few days, I was concerned about getting from point A to point B, deeply tracking the upcoming roads and the time I had until I reached that night’s camp. This was probably because I spent the first three days pretty tired and sore as my body adjusted to the intense biking distances and hours.

At about day five, I reached Borden-Carleton, PEI, and my perspective on my routes shifted. I had woken up in a relaxing wood cabin in Cape Tormentine, New Brunswick. I ate my breakfast of oatmeal and drank my coffee. I had taken a hot shower and repacked my panniers well. I felt a fully renewed spirit as I headed towards the Confederation Bridge. The Confederation Bridge was built in the 1990s and is a 14 km “box girder” bridge connecting New Brunswick to PEI. Trucks, motorcycles, and cars are allowed to drive over it, but pedestrians on foot or cyclists must take the provided shuttle. Apparently, it can be windy on the bridge, and it is so long that I was excited to be carried across. Once at the Bridge Shuttle Station, there is a phone booth that pedestrians or cyclists use to call “bridge control.”

After calling, a pickup truck driven by a nice local arrived to load my bike onto the bike rack and carry me across. The ride lasted maybe 20 minutes, but it was the longest conversation I had had with someone in five days. I rode away towards Charlottetown with the realization that I was missing some human connection. I passed an antique store and decided to go in, meeting the store owner, who was actually from Ontario (about an hour from my house) but spent her summers running the antique shop where she grew up. About half an hour later, I ran into my first fellow bikepackers: two guys in their late 60s from Maine who were about to complete their two-week trip around the island. We chatted for a while about where I was going and where they had just come from. It made my entire day to know I wasn’t alone out there on the roads, but that there were others making similar but different journeys of their own at a snail's pace. Meeting those folks on that fifth morning proved to me the kindness of others and the curiosity we have about each other’s stories. The tight timelines I had before about getting to point B seemed to loosen, and I became more focused on seeing the journey, the people, and the sights around me. I stopped in Victoria, PEI, shortly after for the best lobster roll and potato salad I’d ever had.

Fitness and Fuelling

Food was on my mind before starting my trip. Coming from working in a seafood restaurant in Toronto, I was interested in making one theme of the journey about eating. I wanted to try lobster, saltwater fish, scallops, and whatever else I could purchase along the way to enjoy. I made detours through famous fish-and-chip stands and lobster shacks. Food was not just for pleasure along the ride, though. I was worried going into the trip that I would not get all the calories I needed to compensate for the calories burned on a daily basis. I went so far as to look up grocery stores for the first stop to build hypothetical carts of what I could carry and what I’d be able to cook along the way. This prior worry proved helpful when I arrived exhausted at an Atlantic Superstore and did not have the mental capacity to wander around trying to figure it out. It gave me an idea of what to look for and how much I would need for a couple of days at a time. In some cases, there weren't many restaurants to stop at for a day or two, and in others, I was able to eat wonderful meals.

Upon arriving in Charlottetown, PEI, on the fifth night, I met a couple from Montreal who were about my age. We were both staying in the Charlottetown HI hostel, along with a couple of other pairs of bikepackers completing various paths. They had taken a different route, almost in the opposite direction of the loop from me (Halifax to Charlottetown via Caribou Ferry Terminal). Like me, this was their first bikepacking trip. Comparing our distances and times, it was clear I was moving quite a bit faster than them. They were staying longer in each location as well. What I noticed about them right away was how tired they looked. They looked exhausted and had dark bags under their eyes. I probably looked quite similar in their eyes, but I felt good. When I looked at myself in the hostel bathroom mirror to check, I thought, “My cheeks have a healthy flush, and my face looks tan.” I felt alive and eager for the journey.

That night, I went to Sims Corner Steakhouse and Oyster Bar. I ordered a tenderloin steak with mashed potatoes and some roasted root veggies. Happily, I ordered a glass of Nova Scotian cava as well. This meal was a nice treat and one that I knew would help my body: the red meat, the iron, and the protein… and I’d been dreaming about it for days. About a month prior, I was put on to this restaurant by a guest at my own restaurant. The guest was from Charlottetown and said I must go when I’m there for a great meal. I was not disappointed. I thought about the couple from Montreal the next morning as I left Charlottetown in the direction of the Wood Islands Ferry at the south end of PEI. I woke up feeling the best I had physically thus far on the trip. I wondered whether the couple from Montreal were not fueling well enough. Not enough electrolytes as they rode, not enough protein and carbs for their muscles each day, and not enough liquids. It made me feel quite grateful for my overplanning of food and my funds to treat myself to quality meals along the way. It reminded me to stay on top of it before it was too late and I was in the middle of nowhere without the things I would need.

Concluding Thoughts

I went into this trip pretty green. I lacked camping experience, I lacked bike mechanic knowledge, and I had never been to the area. There were many unknowns that could have stalled me from following through with this dream trip. I figured if I didn’t allow myself to sit in the worry and just kept moving, the pieces would fall into place. If a problem arose in front of me, there would also be a solution in front of me.

Through that, there were lots of things I was able to learn and become more comfortable with. What I carried with me was a willingness to figure it out and a commitment to be kind to myself, no matter how long or hard it was. Being kind to myself was one of the hardest parts.

Beforehand, I thought that being out on my own in the wilderness “suffering” would teach me life lessons. Although this is probably true, I quickly realized that suffering isn’t necessary for success and is mainly a mindset. It could be raining and horrible, or it could be raining and beautiful; we get to decide. The road might be endless and hilly, but the views along the way could be sweet.

What I have left this trip with is the understanding that there are so many kind people who are willing to help once you are a bit vulnerable with them. Although I was given many warnings about travelling solo as a female, I was only met with warmth and friendliness. When moments of scariness arose, I listened to my intuition and moved where I felt best. Physically, this trip was a hell of a feat; starting out, I had only recently biked half of what I did on the first day and one-third of what I did on my peak days. I moved slowly and gradually noticed my body getting stronger and more in sync with my bike.