Reflections on the First Week of Fall – Adventure at Tea Cup Rock

Thunder Cove Beach

Spence and I visited Prince Edward Island for our official 50^th Wedding Anniversary celebration. Below are four of fourteen postcards I wrote about our vacation. To view all fourteen, visit WellsWoodPa.

Adventure at Tea Cup Rock – Part 1

Dear Lori,

Spence forgot to pack beach shoes and shorts. So, on the way to Tea Cup Rock on Thunder Cove Beach, we stopped at Walmart. After getting lost and gawking at scenic farms, we found Thunder Cove Road. Spence parked behind a line of cars on the berm, and we squirmed into shorts and beach shoes. In long sleeve shirts and adding sun hats, we stepped out. Spence pulled keys from his jeans pocket, closed our jeans in the trunk, and pushed the fob button. No click. He pushed again. “The button’s not working.”

“Maybe the battery’s dead.” I bit into a granola bar, my snack to delay lunch.

Spence pushed the lock button three more times. “How will we lock the car?”

“Easy.” I opened the driver’s door and flicked the lock button on the side panel. “We can lock it from the inside.” I pushed the door―

“Wait―”

Slam!

“What if the key doesn’t work either?”

I grabbed the key. “Of course it will work.” I stuck the key into the slot. It didn’t fit. I glared at the grooves on both edges. Didn’t the rental car key have straight edges?

Spence took the key. “It’s the Subaru key. The rental key must be in my jeans.”

We stared at the locked trunk. We were locked out of our rental car 18 km (11 mi.) from the nearest service station, and our cell phones couldn’t call in Canada. Great.

Spence approached a woman in the car parked in front of us. “Can you help me?”

Love,

Janet

Trail to the Path Down the Cliff

Adventure at Tea Cup Rock – Part 2

Bottom of Path to Thunder Cove Beach

Dear Eliza,

After Spence asked for help, the woman, sitting sideways on her driver’s seat and resting her bare feet on the red dirt road, looked up. “I can try.”

“We locked ourselves out of the car, and our phone doesn’t work here,” he said.

“Do you have CAA?”

CAA? “No,” I said. “We have AAA.”

She tapped her phone “Maybe CAA will work.” She explained our dilemma to the CAA operator, asked me questions, and relayed answers. “The card’s in the car . . . Janet Wells . . . Pennsylvania . . . 106 West Creek Road . . . phone doesn’t work here . . .” She turned her phone off. “The tow truck will be here within forty-five minutes.”

“Thanks for rescuing us,” Spence and I said in unison.

She smiled with the corners of her lips, pulled in her feet, and drove away.

“We have time to see Tea Cup Rock before the tow truck arrives,” I said.

Spence shook his head. “I’m not taking the chance. I’m staying with the car.”

“But the tide is low now. We can only get to it at low tide.”

“You go. I’ll look at your photos. I don’t want to miss the tow. I’ll wait here.”

His here stretched to walking along the top of the cliff to help me find a path down to the beach. When we found one, he descended first and held my hand to ease my descent. Then he climbed back up, stood like a sentry, and waved.

I ambled through soft red-tinged sand to the hard deep-red sand edging the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Then I turned west for my kilometer walk (5/8 mile) to find Tea Cup Rock.

Love,

Janet

Spence Waving from the Cliff above Thunder Cove Beach

Adventure at Tea Cup Rock – Part 3

Cliff to Wade Around to View Tea Cup Rock

Dear Nancy,

Sunshine sparkled off the Gulf of St. Lawrence. As I waded west on Thunder Cove beach, waves felt as cool as our creek in spring. I waved to Spence, who waited atop the cliff for the tow truck to rescue us after we locked ourselves out of the rental car.

A few couples and other single beach goers crossed the kilometer [5/8 mile] of sand in search of Tea Cup Rock too. When I reached the red cliffs extending to the gulf, waves lapped the rocks―not a problem since I’d been wading for pleasure. Rounding that cliff brought me to a second cliff rather than a view of the famous Canadian rock. Determined, I rounded the second cliff. Tea Cup Rock towered above me. The base alone rose to my waist. I took a dozen pictures of the formation that waves and weather had carved from red sandstone. Several people came and went, but I lingered, circled the rock, and rubbed my hand along its smooth base before returning to Spence.

He still stood on the cliff―waiting and responding to questions about how to find Tea Cup Rock with answers Viola, the B&B owner, had given us at breakfast.

I climbed up the cliff. “Did the tow truck come?

“Not yet.”

After Spence explained how to find the rock to several more groups of visitors, the tow truck arrived. It had a bed long enough to haul three of our rental cars, but the driver didn’t need the space. He inserted two air pump wedges in the door, inflated the wedges, stuck a long reach tool in the resulting crack, and unlocked the door. Sixty seconds. He needed another two minutes for the paper work. Vacation rescued!

Love,

Janet

Tea Cup Rock

Adventure at Tea Cup Rock – Part 4

Second Cliff to Walk Around to See Tea Cup Rock

Dear Reid and Claire,

Spence and I watched the long-bed tow truck back up the red dirt road to Thunder Cove Beach. Then Spence pulled the rental car key from his jeans stowed in the trunk, and I grabbed the Subaru key from him. “I’ll put this in my camera bag until we’re at the Pittsburgh airport.” I stuffed lunch into a Walmart bag. “Come with me to Tea Cut Rock.”

“It’s late. You need to eat lunch.”

“I’m fine. I had a snack.” I handed him two beach towels from the B&B. “I’ll eat on the beach after we see the rock.”

“You can eat before we see the rock.”

“No, the tide turned. It won’t take long.” I headed for the path to the beach.

He muttered about the female race, and we edged down the cliff. Spence walked on dry sand. I splashed in the surf until we reached the first cliff barring the view of Tea Cup Rock. The tide had risen several inches since my solo trip. We waded then rounded the second cliff. I threw my arms wide and shouted, “There it is!”

In a deadpan voice he said, “It’s awesome. Now will you eat?”

I circled Tea Cup Rock for a last view then walked back around the cliffs with Spence. I spread the beach towels on a large red sandstone rock. We perched. While I dipped bread sticks into a jar of almond butter and munched dried berries, lunch-skipper Spence watched people. “It’s a twenty-first century beach on a sunny Monday in September―old people, gay couples, and families with preschoolers and dogs.”

Hand in hand, we walked back across the red sands of Thunder Cove Beach.

Love,

Janet

Tea Cup Rock

Guest Blog by Spencer Charles Wells – George's Big Morning

George

September 10^th, while Spence and I prepared for a day of adventure, misadventure, and intriguing people on Prince Edward Island, our cat-sitting son Charlie sent this email.

Spencer Charles to Spencer and me George's Big Morning 5:30 a.m.

So breakfast time does roll around.

"Come on, George!"

No answer.

I look around and he is sitting at the door again, staring back at me.

"Really?

More staring.

"Okay... "

I open the door and we go out. It’s cold. And dark. And the wind chimes are ringing. I stay with him as he walks around in two complete circles before heading back in.

I return to cooking. Five minutes later I notice no one is begging for food at my heels. I look over at the door. 

As soon as he sees my head turn, George, sitting by the door, lets out a chorus of squeaky cries.

"Okay..."

This time I figure I'll leave him out there for a while, let him get it out of his system. So I go back to cooking. Come back and check the doormat, no George.

Open the door, poke my head out. He is licking rain water off the side of the plant food bucket.

"Okay..."

I close the door. Shortly after, he is asking to be let in. 

 

"You're wet George."

He doesn't argue, but neither does he complain. Instead after snacking on maybe three crunchies, he asks to go outside again and drink more rain water.

This happens over a dozen times, with the trips getting longer each time. As I sat down to write this, he was still outside, so I went to look for him.

He and I are curled up on the love seat [outside on the porch], listening to the rain and the wind and the wind chimes.

Emma is inside somewhere. Sleeping.

Charlie and George

Reflections on the Thirteenth Week of Summer – Addy’s Big Adventure Part 2

Addy and Janet Unload Apples while Grandma Cindy Watches - photo by Spence

I ladled homemade applesauce into paper cups and distributed them to the Wells family in the great room. While everyone quieted and dipped spoons into their dessert, I collapsed into the Adirondack chair. With the warm cup in my hand, I took my first spoonful. The smooth sauce tasted sweet-tart―worth the effort for the Wolf River apple harvesting adventure that involved all nine of us at the traditional Wells Wood Labor Day gathering.

Addy, our three-and-a-half-year-old great niece, gobbled her applesauce and licked her spoon. She had unloaded apples from the apple picker, ridden the tractor that hauled the apples, watched grown-ups cut and cook apples, and eaten numerous slices of fresh apples. But she didn’t call the apple event an adventure. Addy loved adventures. Because grown-ups had said, “Later, Addy,” she waited for the three adventures she’d planned.

Addy’s nineteen-month old sister, Amelia, lifted the applesauce cup Patrick, her daddy, had set on the coffee table. She peeked inside the cup. Then she stuck her hand in the cup, rubbed the edges, and licked her fingers. She set his cup on the table and toddled over to pick up her Aunt Sarah’s. Amelia repeated her hand-scraping, finger-licking tactic and moved to the next abandoned cup.

Folks drifted outside except for Addy’s grandma and me. We packed left overs and cleaned the kitchen. On the deck Amelia toddled between her grandpa and daddy. Addy’s aunts chatted on the love seat. Spence and Addy set out on a small adventure across the north field.

Their destination? As Spence would report in detail later, they walked to his gravel pile because Addy had studied gravel by the grill while he’d lit the charcoal. When they reached the mound of gravel, Addy threw her arms wide and squealed, “A gravel mountain!”

She rushed to the gravel mound, took one step, and slid back to the grass. She ran and slid. So Addy lowered her hands and crept up the mound like a four-legged daddy longlegs. When she reached the top, she threw her hands above her head, slid down the side, and crawled up―again and again.

The sun fell behind the trees in the woods. The sun fell to the top of the woods’ trees. Spence swung his arm in the direction of the log house. “Let’s go back so we can gather people for the big adventure.”

Addy slid down her gravel mountain, jogged in the direction of the house, but halted at the edge of the garden.

“We can walk through there.” Spence stepped over the chicken wire fence.

Addy scowled at the fence. “How can I get over?”

“With a little help.” Spence grabbed her by the waist and lifted her over the fence to the black plastic controlling the weeds. Addy walked between pole bean plants towering over her head and tomato plants drooping from heavy fruit. She pointed at a green tomato. “Can I eat this?”

“It’s not ripe.” Spence picked a tomato further down the row. “Here’s a red one.”

Addy gobbled the cherry tomato, took a few steps, and shouted, “Here’s another one!” She pulled it off the vine and gobbled the second tomato.

Addy traipsed through the plant corridor, and Spence lifted her over the garden fence. She ran to the house and asked each of us, inside or out, “Do you want to come on a big adventure?”

Addy’s big adventures involved ambitious walking. After a day of preparations, the apple adventure, and kitchen cleaning, I couldn’t walk as far as the mailbox without aggravating my knees or hips. So, when she looked up with her shining brown eyes and invited me, I said, “I’d like to, Addy, but I’m too tired.”

She nodded and dashed off to join the gang gathering on the gravel driveway. Only Addy’s grandpa, who napped on the deck, and I stayed behind. Spence filled us in on what we’d missed when he returned.

Addy’s big adventure began with Addy asking Spence, “Where are we going?”

He said, “You’re the leader.”

Her eyes doubled in size. She turned in a circle to survey the possibilities then dashed to down the slope to the grill below the porch. Spotting the path between the white pines, she raced into the woods.

From time to time, she stopped on the path and turned around to see if folks followed her. Spence and Patrick kept close. Her Aunt Laura followed with Amelia. Addy’s Aunt Sarah walked at the end of the procession with Addy’s grandma. Satisfied, Addy dashed ahead. When she reached Deer Creek, she shouted, “Let’s go in!”

Spence stepped down the two foot bank, lifted Addy, and set her in the creek. Patrick followed. Sarah and Laura helped Amelia in. The group walked upstream while Addy’s grandma watched from the bank.

Addy took several tentative steps on her own then moved at a walking pace. “I walked in the other river.” Earlier in the summer, Addy’s family had camped by the Clarion River. “I can walk in this river too.” When her confidence increased, she splashed and giggled. She ran-slipped-fell-got up, ran-slipped-fell-got up, and ran-slipped-fell-got up again.

Laura set Amelia in the creek.

Amelia - photo by Sarah

Holding tight to her Aunt Laura’s hand, Amelia took careful steps through the water. At her toddling pace, she didn’t fall.

Stooping, Spence selected a stone from the rocky creek bottom. “I’ll show you how to skip stones, Addy.” He flicked his wrist, and the stone skipped twice through the smooth upstream water.

Addy tossed a round stone. Plunk.

Spence stooped for another stone. “Pick a round-flat stone, Addy.”

Addy glared at the underwater stones. She selected a round-flat stone and tossed it. Plunk.

Patrick chose a stone and skipped it upstream. He laughed. “I did this when I was a kid here.”

He skipped stone after stone.

All Addy’s stones plunked.

Amelia whimpered about a diaper issue, and everyone got out of the creek―Laura carried Amelia, and Spence lifted Addy.

Cheerful voices clued me that the gang crossed the north field. I stepped onto the porch to greet them.

Laura stomped up the porch steps first. “May we borrow a towel, Aunt Janet?”

Addy scampered up next. She grinned and patted her soggy tank top with both hands. “I fell in.”

I fetched a blue bath towel.

Addy rubbed herself then slipped into a tank top and bathing suit bottom―the only clothes left in her grandma’s-SUV-emergency-stash that would fit Addy. In dry clothes and proud of leading the family on a big adventure, she followed me into the house. “Can I go up there now?” She pointed to the bridge between the lofts.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll take you.” I demonstrated how to hold onto the railing when climbing the spiral stairs, and Addy followed at an Amelia-pace.

Addy ran across the bridge and grabbed a toy duck off the railing. She ran back and bounced the yellow duck on the bed. Leaving the duck, she dashed to the book shelves, grabbed one of Spence’s community organizing books, and brought it to me. “Will you read this to me?”

“That’s an adult book,” I said though I thought That’s a dull book. I took the book from Addy and put it on the shelf. “I’ll find a children’s story.” Figuring one of the six stories in The Big Red Book of Beginner Books [ https://www.amazon.com/Big-Red-Book-Beginner-Books/dp/0375865314 ] would entertain Addy, I pulled it off the shelf and sat on the bed.

Addy sat beside me.

I opened to the first chapter, I Want to Be Somebody New. “Would you like to hear this story?”

Addy nodded and folded her hands on her lap.

With my finger under the words, I read and gave each character a different voice.

Addy sat as still as the angel statue in the north garden. When I finished a story, she said, “Read another one.”

After five stories, Addy said, “Can I read it to you now?”

The clock chimed nine. Folks downstairs collected their gear.

“I wish we had time, Addy,” I said. “But your dad has to work at Get Go at four-thirty tomorrow morning. He needs to go home and sleep.” I closed the book, stood up, and put the book on the shelf. “You can read to me next time.”

Addy jumped off the bed, ran to the spiral stairs, and took a giant step backward.

I held out my hand to the youngster who’d gone on a small, gravel-mountain adventure, a big, creek-wading adventure, and a calm, story adventure. “You can do this. I’ll hold your hand and go first. Hold the railing with your other hand.”

Addy clutched my hand and the railing. Step by step we descended the twelve, backless, metal stairs. The adventuring youngster conquered the spiral steps too.

Addy on the Run - photo by Spence