The road to Avonlea was long and filled with wildflowers and mist. The cars on that road were filled with ten pilgrims (some more zealous than others) very eager to arrive at our destination. I'm not certain if it was the density of people/cargo or or the highway detour or the heart-rending monotone of our Anne of Avonlea-on-tape's elocutionist, but by Maine we definitely required a first rate pit-stop. We found it near the Canadian border in a roadside soft serve stand with 24 different flavors. Hettie even bought her own cone.