She crossed that bridge when she came to it.

First an email from Priscilla about this morning:

"I made it across the bridge and so did Woodrow on the shuttle.
I stayed in Mrs. Leary's yard last night.
She was very nice.
She offered me tea last night and we sat and chatted for a while.
Her son, Jeff, was there too and and it was fun.
I have a picture of her, but it's not very good ... sorry.

"It rained most of the night so I had a late start waiting for the tent to dry up enough to pack up.
"Woodrow is currently all loaded up again and waiting for me right outside the information center.
I will be on my way to Sackville in a few.
It's pretty windy here, so it's a good thing I only have about 40 miles to go.

"I got a map of New Brunswick.
I'll take a few minutes to study it and then be on my way.
I decided last night to take a different route than I had originally planned when still at home.
This way, however, I'll be going through more habited places.
Since not many people from Warm Showers have gotten back to me about staying with them, I would rather be near towns to camp in people's yards."

And now the rest of the day:

So Priscilla made it safely to Sackville, and once she figured out where she'd put the address of the Sackville person she planned to stay with, she rode over to his house. His name is David, and he lives with four other guys. They're all very nice, also Christians, and they take turns cooking. Tonight was Johnny's (one of those guys) birthday, so Martin (another one probably) made barbecue wings, lemon pepper wings, corn on the cob, mussels, and a traditional Canadian bread thing (right, I think that's the technical term). And David made a baked pumpkin cheese cake. It all sounds very tasty, doesn't it? I'm getting drool on the keyboard.

Speaking of tastiness, the other day Priscilla found raspberries growing alongside the road, and munched on those. Lucky girl.

On a not so tasty note: Priscilla's lunch today, which was leftover corn on the cob, soybeans, and peanut butter sandwiches. Edible, palatable but not quite up to tasty.

And for some thorough untastiness: Remember those cans of food Priscilla had transferred into baggies? It seems the plastic was a little less preserving, and so she inadvertently brewed a few batches of bean wine, corn wine, etc. Don't think there's much chance of marketing that, sadly.

Back to tastiness though-- fruit! She had some of that today, too. A pear and an apple to tide her over until supper, as biking against all that wind makes you hungry.

So tonight she's sleeping indoors, and her sleeping bag is in the dryer as I type. Tomorrow night she plans to stay in Petitcodiac, at the home of David's parents.

And that's about it.

Wait! I forgot! Remember how she was (hopefully) going to take advantage of the opportunity of a police escort across the PEI to New Brunswick bridge? Alas, the biker who told her about that was misinformed. Instead there's a shuttle set up to take bikers and pedestrians back and forth. You only get a "police escort" if you try to illegally walk or bike across the bridge without the shuttle. Then the police catch you and escort you to the shuttle, throw you inside, and send you across that way. So. She went to the shuttle place and waited. The shuttle driver walks in, looks at her, and says "you look cross." Actually, Priscilla was looking more shocked than anything. "What, I look cross?" she asked. And the driver replied "Yes, you do, and maybe you're looking to cross... the bridge... too." Priscilla burst out laughing, and from then on, they were friends. Which is almost as good as a police escort.