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We moved to Prince Edward Island in September of 1992.  My first real job.  I had just turned 24.  Before the bridge.  Young and naïve.  Overworked and underpaid.  In so many ways, such a rude awakening.  Real life.  My wife (fiancé at the time) was going through a tough time personally.  And I also felt like I was barely keeping my head above water.  I was homesick.  I made new friends in PEI but still never really felt like an “islander”.  I also didn’t fit in with my old friends back home anymore either.  In no man’s land.  Back and forth.  Our jobs were on the island, but most of the living part of our lives was still in New Brunswick.  We stayed for 4 years.  Ever since then I have mixed feelings every time I go back.  Certain old unprocessed distressing emotions from this time resurfacing.  Revisiting outside making me also revisit inside.  I’ve been wanting to ride the Confederation Trail for years now.  A 449 kilometers network of gravel paths built on the old railway bed that run the full length of the island.  No cars.  No ATVs.  Bikers, walkers and runners only.  Gravel heaven really.  Last Sunday, my Giant Revolt and I hopped on the trail in Charlottetown.  Perfect weather.  At my own perfect pace.  Through quaint island towns.  In no man’s land in between.  Almost to Summerside.  Back towards Borden through Kensington.  113 kilometers.  As I get older, my PEI visits have slowly become more and more therapeutic for me in so many ways.  Something about now knowing what my younger self didn’t know 29 years ago.  Something about being mature enough to cherish the slower pace of life.  Appreciate the simplicity.  Feeling lighter. As much as I wanted out 25 years ago when we moved back, now I long for that island tranquility.  Out there, on my bike, I rode with my younger self and brought him home.