Path: LA-3

YouTube  l  Panorama LA-3 Lapalme Waterway / Cours d'eau Lapalme September 6, 2009

Day 1 – September 5, 2009

My waypoint (LA-3) was only 50 km away  — as the crow flies  — according to my GPS. Instead of taking a northern route, I decided to go east and stay overnight in L’Assomption. The next morning I would have time to find the waypoint and return to Montreal via Laval. I had passed through L’Assomption while doing the Chemin du Roy on my LA-5, LE-4 trip. The Route Verte often bypasses cyclists away from traffic on the main strip and into the suburbs, but then you don’t get a sense of the town. I wanted to explore further.

It was a crisp, sunny Fall morning, but with headwind. Very few cyclists on the roads. I took the cycling trail on Notre-Dame to get off the island but avoided the pock-marked-labyrinth-like cycling trails through the smaller streets and stuck to Notre-Dame and Sherbrooke as there was little traffic. Left before the GPS had tracked all the satellites so it was in searching mode for the first two and a half hours. The interface also had lines going across the screen. It may be on its last leg. I didn’t get a reading until I reached the intersection of 100e avenue and Sainte-Maria Goretti — the bridge crossing to Repentigny. Passed the Céline Dion globe in Charlemagne and immediately saw the Route Verte trail that I had completely overlooked the last time. It took me all the way to L’Assomption through fields, suburbs and industrial parks.

Pleasantly surprised to have arrived before noon, I ate and strolled around town to survey the local architecture. I am always drawn to humble structures: the tiny chapel always outshines the ostentatious basilica. Chapelle Bonsecours was covered in vines and harboured a small cemetery with a few weathered tombstones intermixed with new ones. I was glad to see a few stone houses with the characteristic metal low sloped roofs which date from the Ancien Régime. There were also fieldstone houses with their bulbous walls, dwellings which touch me as I admire the adaptability of the early settlers, merging traditional French methods of construction with the materials at hand.

I tried to visit the Thérèse-Beaudry garden but it was closed. The panel explained that it was an example of an 18th century garden with its combination of fine herbs (thyme, sage and chives) and topinambours, sureau and pimbine. I’ve always had trouble remembering the French equivalent to English plant names (as well as fish species and trees).  Had to look up certain terms after my trip. A topinambour is the Jerrusalem artichoke or sunflower, which made sense as the tuber is edible, while sureau is the elderberry bush, again an edible berry. Pimbine was not in my dictionary. Like the fieldstone houses, this functional garden was exemplary of the determination to survive in this new geography and climate. Thérèse Beaudry was the wife of a soldier from the LaSarre regiment. Married in 1760, she gave birth to 16 children before she died at the age of 35 years c.1778. She was pregnant for almost every married year of her short life. It was sobering to read about this woman. I know I sometimes take my freedom for granted. Almost 250 years later, my everyday reality is quite different. I travel alone in relative safety when at one time unmarried women were discouraged from venturing unaccompanied outside the home.

I came across a few explicative panels by the river.

Il sort des terres une autre petite riviere du costé du Nord, nommé des François la riviere de l’Assomption, et des Sauvages 8taragauesipi, laquelle se iette dans cette grande étendue d’eau qui se rencontre a la pointe plus basse de Montreal. — Relations des Jésuites, 1642.

The Outaragavisipi placename, meaning “rivière tortueuse”, was fitting as the river is indeed winding, almost forming a figure 8. In fact, there was a popular First Nations portage spot where the land almost meets at the middle of the loop. Rivière de l’Achigan and Rivière Saint-Esprit, which feed into l’Assomption are even more twisting. The Lapalme waterway is an offshoot of the latter.

Though it was a short cycling day, my knees were sore. Headwind is tiring on the body. I had pulled my inner thigh muscle. Having tired of limped through town, I retreated to the B&B and its sun dappled rooftop terrace.

 

Day 2 – September 6, 2009

“Au postillon de l’Assomption” is a B&B in what used to be the town’s original post-office. The owner told me its history over breakfast. Before leaving I asked her if “postillon” was a diminutive term for post office. I didn’t realize that it meant the drop of saliva that is projected forward when speaking to someone. She added that the word used to refer to the person who drove the mail coach, a horse-drawn carriage. Lovely metaphor the "flying spit" as messenger, airborne gossip. I laughed to myself as I am aware of my limited vocabulary in French. Growing up in a largely Anglophone environment, I did not often hear French. A bookworm, most of my French vocabulary was acquired through the act of reading. As I would often try to approximate the meaning of unknown words, this led to confusion at times. For instance, when I first got to the B&B, the owner tried to show me how to unlock a fussy door latch. She told me I had to “trousser” the handle which was an unfamiliar verb to me. When I looked it up later, I saw that the verb was a familiar form of retrousser (to pull up) as in “trousser la jupe”. In a similar vein there was also a “trousseur de jupons” (un coureur de filles).

Once on the road, I cycled on quiet country lanes enjoying the cool breeze. Something hissed at me as I checked my map on a small road in the middle of two cornfields, the dry husks crackling in the wind. My GPS, an older model, does not have detailed maps. The rangs are often not displayed. All I see is the trace of my path on a blank screen. I use it mostly to lock in my waypoint and situate myself in relation to it. I have always had trouble with cardinal points, with determining left and right. My orienting style tends to rely on landmarks. It is hard not to notice the towering Croix de chemin that line the Chemin du Roy.

I backtracked all morning trying to find my waypoint, up one lane and down another. I passed right by my destination the first time. At a crossroads I checked my GPS to discover that LA-3 was situated about half a kilometre in the other direction. I turned back and cycled at a slower pace, scanning the fields. I knew from prior trips that unlike a river, a waterway is usually discreet and could possibly be dried up. I hadn’t seen another body of water apart from the serpentine Saint-Esprit. But at the base of a hill, in a shady grove of trees, I dismounted almost by instinct. I could just discern a rivelet of water in the weeds. It reminded me of the LE-10 waypoint, where I could only hear trickling in the bush with no water in sight. This location was more picturesque with its wild flowers and the surrounding fields with their regular rows swaying in the wind.

After taking my photos in the round, I started packing my things back into my bike panniers. A transport barrelled around the corner and down the small hill, its wheels spinning into the gravel where my bike had been initially placed. He most probably was going high speed on a straight stretch of road and didn’t anticipate this sudden slight dip. It had been calm, with little traffic and then with no warning, this thundering charge. I thought of the small white crosses decorated with flowers by the side of the road that I had passed in my travels. I shivered, certain that the driver had also had a fright.

I stopped to eat in Saint-Roch-de-l’Achigan. I asked if the crêpes were made with buckwheat flour. The waitress said no, that would be the “Galette de Sarrasin”, made from local flour. It looked like grey shoe leather but slathered with butter and thick brown molasses, it tasted incredible. Certainly gave me the energy needed for the long ride home.

The smaller roads were not always well marked so I was constantly altering my route. I also went the wrong way twice. In St-Vincent de Paul I couldn't resist following other cyclists going downhill until I realized that the bridge to Laval was nowhere in view. In Montreal North I couldn’t remember the street which took me all the way to Van Horne. So I passed Christophe-Colomb, only to backtrack once again after asking a fellow cyclist for directions. The trails were congested and it took longer than anticipated to get home. It was difficult to switch gears – the fast pace of a crowded city after the tranquility of country roads with wide open spaces.

Day 1 – September 5, 2009

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:00 Arrive: 10:30	100e Ave/ Sainte-Maria Goretti	Apx. 40 km GPS not working
	Céline Dion Globe, Charlemagne N 45°43'071" W 73°29'143"
Arrive: 11:30	L’Assomption N 45°49'574" W 73°25'40"	17.8 km + 40 = 58 km	1:02 + 2:30 = 3:30	8 min	42.1 k/h	17 k/h

Day 2 – September 6, 2009

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:30 Arrive: 10:40	LA-3 N 45°53'833" W 73°37'546"	33.5 km	1:48	20 min		18.5 k/h
Arrive: 11:50	Saint-Roch-de-l’Achigan N 45°51'393" W 73°35'310"	43.9 km	2:22	30 min
Arrive: 2:10	Terrebonne Bridge to Laval	76.1 km	4:08	51 min		18.3 k/h
Arrive: 3:15	St-Vincent de Paul (backtracked)	93.5 km	5:04	1:03
Arrive: 4:10	Christophe-Colomb (backtracked) N 45°33'779" W 73°39'839"	104 km
Arrive: 4:50	Van Horne N 45°31'678" W 73°36'316" Avg: 17.7 k/h					17.7 k/h
Arrive: 5:45		125 km	7:11	1:22

 

Path: LA-5, LE-4

YouTube  l  Panorama Lac-à-l'Épaule (Substitute) LA-5 Lapalme Lake / Lac Lapalme LE-4 Legault Lake / Lac Legault July 29, 2009

Day 1 – July 27, 2009

Rivière-à-Pierre to Fossambault-sur-le-lac

Woke up early to a rainy morning. Packed up my bike and headed down the Lachine canal to the VIA Rail station to catch the 8:30 train to Rivière-à-Pierre. Took off my front wheel and was able to stuff my bike and tent in the box they provided. The scenery was grey and gloomy, as it rained throughout the ride. Right before Rivière-à-Pierre a group of canoeists got on, smelling of campfire, looking ravenous and chilled to the bone. When I got off at the station, there were about six other cyclists ready to board. The rain had stopped but the air was heavy. The sun tried to pierce through the clouds, but just created a blanket of damp heat. My breathing was raspy, but as the first few kilometers of gravelly road passed through a forest, the air cooled a little. The trail was a little monotonous but at the same time, it gave me plenty of time to think as I just had to plod along in a straight line, brought out of my reverie by the occasional big dumb horsefly. Many doves of a brown-rose colour and the frequent cawing crow. Eventually fields appeared on either side and the sun peeped out. For the most part, I was on my own. I crossed only one other pair of cyclists and a few locals on the trail. I startled a calico cat who jumped and glided in the tall glasses as if it were a hare. I had to laugh out loud as it was so graceful in its fright. There was the occasional picnic table and portable toilet. I had enough snacks to tie me over. Passed the communities of Saint-Léonard, Saint-Raymond, Lac Sergent, Sainte-Catherine-de-la-Jacques-Cartier and finally reached Fossambault-sur-le-Lac in the afternoon. I could have kept going, but it started down pouring, so I circled back and headed for the campground. I got soaked to the skin and had trouble finding my way as my maps got all wet and I had to turn off the GPS. Of course, as soon as I entered the campground, the rain stopped. Though I was grouchy, I was relieved that I would not have to pitch my tent in the rain. The annoying thing about cycling solo is not being able to share camping fees. It cost me $40.00 for a little damp square of earth. Not my idea of camping. It was the kind of campground where families go with their trailers and stay the whole summer. There was no privacy between the lots. I'm surprised I didn't hear anyone snoring. Was next to a family with a very noisy dog who whined and whimpered when left alone. Went to bed early and packed up early the next morning, anxious to get going.

 

Day 2 - July 28, 2009

Fossambault-sur-le-lac to parc de la Jacques-Cartier

Was on the Corridor des Cheminots, which leads to Quebec City, before I knew it. I didn’t have detailed maps so I was uncertain how I was going to get to the parc de la Jacques-Cartier, otherwise known as the parc des Laurentides. I stopped on the side of the road close to Wendake to pore over my maps. A cyclist stopped to see if I needed help, Andrée from Charlesbourg. A local, she knew all the routes and advised me not to take my planned route through Tewkesbury as it was extremely hilly. The smaller roads through Lac Saint Charles would be a better option. She was on her regular training route, but said if she had time she would circle back and ride with me. I turned onto Boulevard de la Colline and went and ate a late breakfast. I asked a rather handsome cop for more detailed instructions and he obligingly wrote down the route for me.

 

 

At Grande Ligne, I hesitated. The direction looked wrong as I referred to my GPS and map. I decided to go the other way. Thankfully, I ran into Andrée who was headed towards me from Charlesbourg. She laughingly informed me that I was heading towards Quebec City, not north and offered to ride along with me for a bit. She suggested we take a more scenic route turning right on Bellerive, left on Rivière Jaune then right on Éthier to join Boul. Talbot, which is the 175. There was a lot of traffic but it had a decent shoulder. It turned out to be a boiler of a day. We were both sweating profusely. We stopped at a gas station in the shade to look at my map. Andrée, perhaps hungry for a good ride, offered to go a little further as it was part of her regular training route and Stoneham promised nice climbs. (Or perhaps she was worried because I was on my own. Fair enough, anything can happen. Though I do spend a good amount of time planning my trips I do leave a lot of room for error, for whims, for encounters. And I can’t control traffic. That’s where I have to let go. I realize that part of this project is about letting myself be helped by people instead of always striving to be self-sufficient. Or appearing to be so… Embrace the vulnerability, allow the other to experience the small joy of helping another. It is another way of connecting, to ask for help.) She was much faster than I was. I am generally slow because of the asthma, but also because of the camping equipment. I am however a steady cyclist with good endurance. Stoneham was indeed a very quaint town. We stopped at the 175 junction and chatted before parting ways. She told me about her recent trips with Vélo Québec and some of the trips she did overseas with her partner. She even gave me her phone number and told me to call her if I needed anything at the park. Truly a very kind person. She did me a great service, probably saving me hours of cycling. I slathered on the sunscreen before steadying myself for an uphill climb. Insane traffic whizzing by, but the shoulder was generous enough. I reached the park entrance only to find out I had another 10 km to go before I got to reception – with some wicked hills. The scenery as I entered the Jacques-Cartier valley was breathtaking. It felt so green and clean compared to the aggressive highway traffic.

I had registered online for my campsite – le Grand Duc — so I simply had to sign in. I decided to treat myself and dug out my quarters to take a hot shower, wiping the layer of dead bugs stuck to my legs. It was another 5 km to my campsite, following the Sautauriski river. I was delighted with the site, surrounded by evergreens and mossy areas with the river babbling in the background. They even delivered a bag of wood for the campfire. I pitched my tent and cycled back to the registration area to pick up my cell (which they agreed to recharge for me) and eat supper. I did not have room on my bike to bring cooking equipment and so I settled for a sandwich at the cantine. Back at my site, I started a fire and read, but after about 20 minutes of contentment, it started raining hard. I had to retire to my tent. I tried to read as late as I could so that I was not wide awake at 3:00 AM, but finally dozed off around 10:00. I knew I had a rough ride the next morning so I needed to rest up. At one point in the night, I woke up. My tent kept flashing white. I was so sleepy, I thought it was fireflies at first until I heard the sky cracking. Eventually the rain came down like nails and I realized that there was a thunderstorm directly overhead. Alone in my tent, I'll admit that I was scared. There was another group of campers in the next lot, so I was not completely on my own. It was more of an existential aloneness in that I felt small and vulnerable in my flimsy shelter. There was nothing I could do if a lightening bolt were to strike me. I felt like a petrified little rabbit as I froze and adopted the fetal position. I just had to wait it out for what seemed like hours. I admit to mouthing a continuous plea to the heavens. People say that there is very little chance to be struck by lightning, but it is an irrational, animal fear that takes over. I always think of my mortality in thunderstorms and in planes — situations where I have little control. After it died down, I slept in until 8:30 AM, exhausted.

 

Day 3 - July 29, 2009

Secteur de la vallée to secteur Lac-à-l’Épaule return

The next morning it was muggy and the air was heavy with the threat of rain. I was wheezing more than usual going uphill. I was apprehensive about my ride to Lac-à-l’Épaule. Lac Lapalme (LA-5) and Lac Legault (LE-4) while in proximity of each other, were simply too remote to attempt cycling there alone. Lac-à-l’Épaule was chosen as a substitute, not only for its proximity to the other waypoints, but for its historical significance. While political figures like Churchill, Roosevelt and de Gaulle had all met at the remote fishing camp bordering Lac-à-l’Épaule at one time, Georges-Émile Lapalme had also been a visitor. On the 4th and 5th of September 1962, he met with Prime Minister of Québec, Jean Lesage, and other cabinet ministers including René Lévesque to discuss whether they should launch an election on the theme of the nationalization of Hydro Québec. The expression “tenir un lac-à-l’épaule” stemmed from this historic meeting. This idea of gathering in a remote outdoors setting to discuss issues, to defend views and possibly come to a compromise, appealed to me considering the symbolism of the coordinates of the LA-5 and LE-4 waypoints. The Lac-à-l'Épaule area also has historical value for Aboriginal people. In the 17th century, Jesuits followed a "montagnais" trail from Lac-à-l’Épaule to the lac Saint-Jean area1. (The Montagnais-Naskapi tribes now call themselves the Innu nation. "Montagnais" is a french term meaning "mountain people" while "Innu" means "people"2.) In terms of mapmaking, the Huron-Wendat chief Nicholas Vincent Tsawanhonhi (1769-1844), whose name means "he who sees clearly"3, described this lake as "Hüaonjacaronté" on a map in 1829 that is known as the "Vincent plan". This lake warrants more research has there is probably a rich history that I've only touched upon.

I had to ride a good 10 km just to get out of the park and another 20 km uphill on the 175, which leads all the way to Saguenay–Lac-Saint-Jean. The good thing is that I did not have all my camping equipment with me, so my load was a little lighter for what would be a 437 metre climb:  from 277 to 714 metres. Riding alongside a continuous flow of transports, trucks and campers, all going extremely fast, was stressful — this despite a fairly wide shoulder. At those speeds, you never know what could happen. My nerves were on edge from the constant noise. The last 10 km climb was made further difficult by construction, as they were widening the highway. The three lanes converged to two, with room for a shoulder on only one side. I followed the same strategy while on my trip in the Gaspésie. Whenever I saw a transport truck coming towards me, I would get off the road onto the gravel. That way if a transport was coming up behind me, there was less chance of an accident. Overall, vehicles tried to give me space when they could, but there was simply not enough room for two transports and a cyclist. When I arrived at the accueil Mercier, I was somewhat shaken and relieved to be off the highway. Unfortunately, the lake was on the other side. I told the park worker about my project and he suggested a spot where I could get a good shot of the lake. He also advised me not to take the mountain bike path back to the campground when I inquired about it. It was a good 17 km away through rugged terrain and I only had a hybrid bike. Plus it would be foolhardy to go alone. I stocked up on water and bought sunglasses as I had lost the nose attachment to my old ones. Though it was cloudy, my face was sore from squinting. An interesting detail. On a portion of the road on each side of the highway was a tubular metal bridge that was difficult to cross on my bike. I assume that it is a bridge designed to stop animal traffic as I could not imagine a moose navigating the tubes. On the highway island, I woke up a man who was lying across his quad. I wanted directions, but I also wanted to make sure he was ok. I spoke French but quickly switched to English. I think he was American. I thought it a strange place to catch a nap. I first went to the Pavillion du lac-à-l’Épaule — the historic fishing lodge? Unfortunately, I was unable to walk around as a group had already booked the lodge according to the park worker who came to greet me. She also suggested I go a bit further to the “effluves”. I assumed this word meant falls as I found a cascading waterfall. But when I looked the noun up later, I was surprised to see that it meant exhalation, breath. “Émanation qui s’exhale d’un corps organisé” — Dictionnaire encyclopédique de la langue française. I probably did not hear her well. Perhaps she mean “l’effluent du lac”? And yet, the exhalation of the lake is more poetic. It was a nice vantage point as from that angle, the lake seemed to float in midair, contained by a barrage of rocks, with the waterfall running under the bridge I was standing on to become the Lac-à-l’Épaule river. This waterway feeds back into the Jacques-Cartier river, at the foot of l’Épaule mountain. There was a small cabin nearby with a panel explaining that salmon eggs were being cultivated inside and that the saumoneau would be released back into the river. (The park has a tiny museum display where I learned that in the beginning of the 19th century, the Jacques-Cartier river had been depleted of its salmon stocks and the caribou had also been over hunted.)

I decided to take the same shoulder on my way back so that I was facing traffic. It felt safer to see the oncoming vehicles, and there was simply no shoulder on the right hand side. I used caution though veering off into the gravel when anything large came my way. As it was all downhill, I was soon out of the construction zone and on the right side of the road. All was going well when a freak thunderstorm hit. Barely had enough time to put on a windbreaker. Thankful I had bought the sunglasses as they stopped the water streaming down my face from washing away my lenses. The rain was pelting the pavement and despite the poor visibility, the traffic did not slow down. Felt exposed to the whims of the sky and traffic. On one steep climb, I thought it safer to walk my bike. I wasn’t sure what the best course of action was: to stop and hide, or to try and out race the storm? Gradually the rain lessened and the sun even peeped its way out. As I entered the park, I biked those last kilometers at a snail’s pace, my muscles burnt from that intense climb. Though I was soaked to the skin, I was content to take in the park’s scenery and simply breathe in the clean, crisp air that follows rainfall. I met another camper back at the site, Ronald Oosting from the Netherlands, on a visit from New York. He was also an artist, specializing in figurative wood carvings. We were banned to our respective pup tents for a good two hours by the heavy rain, but when I emerged he very kindly shared his piping hot supper. We enjoyed the campfire and traded tales until the next rain fall. Though it was a grueling ride, I’m glad that I was able to document Lac-à-l’Épaule. Seeing how remote it was, I realize I have to let go of cycling to the LA-5 and LE-4 waypoints in the Réserve faunique des Laurentides. A future hiking and camping trip perhaps, as there is a cabin nearby on Lac-Henri-Mercier. It’s too bad because I was 29 km away from the Secteur Jumeau entrance, and from there it was only another 115 km to Chicoutimi. My A-6 waypoint, close to Mont-Apica, will probably have to be left to the imagination.

 

Day 4 - July 30, 2009

Parc de la Jacques-Cartier to Neuville

Packed up my tent, and was at the cantine by 7:30 looking forward to a hot coffee before I set off. Unfortunately, it was not open so I hastily munched on my remaining rations: a granola bar, a stick of cheese and some prunes. As the 175 was all downhill, I was at the Stoneham junction before I knew it. Decided to keep going but quickly discovered why Andrée had suggested the alternate route. Cyclist are not allowed beyond the intersection of the 73 and the 371, which leads to Tewkesbury. I had to backtrack, and turned left on Crawford which I was relieved to see brought me to 1st avenue and then on chemin de l’Hibou through the village. I decided to go straight towards Lac Delage. What I failed to realize was that Grande Ligne was also on the other side of the lake. I had to circle back once again. In Lac Saint Charles I went the wrong way again. I wasn't thinking clearly as the sun was intense and I was getting hungry. By the time I stopped to eat, I was surprised to see that I had already cycled 55 km. Once outside the park, a sign said that Quebec City was 40 km away. Of course, I was on small backroads and kept getting lost. The Corridor des Cheminots used to be an old railroad, passing mostly through suburbs. Nearing the end I chatted with Bernard, a friendly fellow who I was surprised to see cycling while wearing a speedo — wouldn't that be uncomfortable? He offered to show me a shortcut to the port area as he too needed to visit a cycling shop. I tried to buy the nosepiece to my sunglasses, but they did not have them in stock. He offered me his own as we had the same glasses. He knew of a sports warehouse. It was very sweet of him as I had not had much luck in the past with spare parts. This trip was truly a mix of grueling rides and kind people.

Neuville

Setting out towards Montreal, I enjoyed the new Littoral trail bordering the Saint-Laurent. Unfortunately, it stopped abruptly at Sainte-Foy. I asked a few people for directions: crossed the parking lot, up Ross, left on Saint-Louis, followed a Chemin du Roy sign… and promptly got lost, cycling around in circles. It was my fault for not having detailed, recent maps. I eventually got back to the 138 and decided to call it a day in Neuville. I found a B&B on the main drag and happily soaked in the view of the Saint-Laurent from a garden swing.

 

Day 5 - July 31, 2009

Neuville – Trois-Rivières

The next morning, I admired the pretty houses in Cap Santé and stopped to eat my lunch in Deschambault at an old fashioned country store. Bought some goatmilk soap close to Grondines and talked to another cyclist going the opposite way. We both remarked that there were very little cyclists on the roads. I knew I had a lot of ground to cover, so I did not stop much except to photograph the occasional church steeple or Croix de chemin. It was a flat route but I had a head wind. Near the end of the day, I made my way to the old section of Trois-Rivières, crossing the rivière Saint-Maurice. I was so struck by the architecture – the Couvent des Urselines especially  – that I decided to stop at a B&B instead of continuing on ahead like I had planned. A good choice as Trois-Rivières was celebrating its 375e anniversary and the streets were animated with people strolling about. The terrasses were full and street performers were on every corner. At night fall, on the Rue des Ursulines, I watched “Parade Issimo” by Les Sages Fous which featured big mechanized bird puppets, a hit with the kids. Then the more sober “Stones” by the Orto-Da Theatre Group from Tel Aviv, Israel. It was all very well planned: the first performance more ambulant with the kids following the puppeteers like the Pied Piper, while the second one provided little stools for its audience. The historical setting added to the magical quality of the night.

 

Day 6 – August 1, 2009

Trois-Rivières – Montréal

The next day was very hot and I was exposed to the sun on treeless country roads (rangs) surrounded by fields in Maskinongé, Saint-Barthélemy and Saint-Viateur — away from bathroom facilities and food amenities. My GPS turned off right before Louiseville, so I lost track of perhaps 15 km? I ate in the late afternoon at a cantine outside of Saint-Sulpice and had a nice chat with the owners. I admitted that I was already very tired. If I took the 138, it was more straightforward, but with lots of traffic. As they told me that L’Assomption was quite pretty, I decided to take the Route Verte, not fully realizing how many km it would add to my day. My route turned out to be a real labyrinth: I got lost in L'Assomption then in Charlemagne trying to find the bridge to Repentigny. One person gave me directions in one way and another sent me back to the same spot where I first asked for directions, by the Céline Dion globe. I eventually got onto the island, but it was the night of the Francofolies and the fireworks competition so the trails on the east end were congested. I had to walk my bike though the old port. I just wanted to be home and take a long bath. I finally relaxed once I was on the Lachine canal as it is so familiar, I can ride it in my sleep. I inched along at a turtle’s pace, my behind and knees sore, finally getting home at 9:30. I had never done such a long day before — about 175 km. But it was worth it to see the Chemin du Roy and all the historical stopovers on the way.

Day 1 – July 27, 2009 (Rivière-à-Pierre to Fossambault-sur-le-lac)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:30  Arrive: 1:00	Montreal Rivière-à-Pierre N 45°27'578" W 73°35'842"
Depart: 1:30 Arrive: 5:00?	Fossambault-sur-le-lac N 46°54'258"  W 71°37'281" Stopped GPS because of rain	58.8 km	3:24	27 min	110k/h?	17.2k/h

 

Day 2 - July 28, 2009 (Fossambault-sur-le-lac to parc Jacques-Cartier)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:20 Stop: 10:30	Lac Saint-Charles N 46°53'331" W 71°22'282"	32.6 km	1:49	37 min	36.7k/h	17.9k/h
Arrive: 2:00	Parc Jacques-Cartier N 47°10'508" W 71°22'175" (264 m)	51.1 km  GPS battery ran out around Stoneham 51.1 + 28 = 70 km?	2:47	1:04	49.9k/h	18.3k/h

 

Day 3 - July 29, 2009 (Secteur de la vallée to secteur Lac-à-l’Épaule return)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
10:20 Stop: 12:35	Secteur Lac-à-l’Épaule N 47°14'292" W 71°14'807" (714 m)	30.6 km	2:05	10 min	45.3k/h	14.7k/h
Depart: 12:50 Arrive: 1:08	Bridge by Salmon Nursery, Lac-à-l’Épaule N 47°14'191" W 71°15'095" (655 m)
Depart: 1:18 Arrive: 3:15	Reception, secteur Vallée N 47°10'508" W 71°22'175" (277 m)	65.9 km	3:50	29 min	123 k/h?	16k/h

 

Day 4 - July 30, 2009 (Parc Jacques-Cartier to Neuville)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
7:45 Stop: 9:15	Stoneham N 47°00'160" W 71°21'748" (180 m)	28.1 km	1:19	10 min	106 k/h?	21.2k/h
Stop: 10:55	Lac Saint-Charles N 46°53'331" W 71°22'282"	56.7 km	2:50	19 min		20 k/h
Stop: 12:30 Stopped: 30 min  Leave: 1:25	Quebec City Port N 46°49'095" W 71°12'036" (12 m)	74.6 km	3:42	30 min		20.1 k/h
Stop: 2:25	End of Littoral N 46°45'832" W 71°16'701"
Stop: 4:30	Saint-Augustin-de-Desmaures	112 km	6:12	1:09	150 k/h?	18 k/h
Arrive: 5:00	Neuville N 46°41’864" W 71°34'631" (9 m)	119 km	6:37	1:11		17.9 k/h

 

Day 5 - July 31, 2009 (Neuville – Trois-Rivières)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:55 Stop: 11:25	Deschambault N 46°38'919" W 71°55'721"	37.8 km	2:11	13:37	326 k/h?	17.2k/h
Depart: 12:00 Stop: 3:45	Notre-Dame-de-la-rive (outside Trois-Rivières) N 46°23'773" W 72°26'925"	95.1 km	5:23	44 min		17.6k/h
Depart: 4:00 Stop: 5:15	Trois-Rivières N 46°20'781" W 72°32'412"	110 km	6:19	1:03		17.4k/h

 

Day 6 – August 1, 2009 (Trois-Rivières – Montréal)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:30 Stop: 10:50	Louiseville N 46°15'356" W 72°56'454"	20 km?  GPS stopped – lost 15 km?	55 min	20 min	183 k/h?	21.7k/h
Depart: 11:25 Stop: 12:30	Saint-Barthélemy N 46°11'508" W 73°07'580"	39.8 km?	2:00	27 min		21.7k/h
Stop: 2:00	Bethierville N 46°04'820"  W 73°10'594" Public bathroom in park facing church	58.1 km?	3:05	41 min		18.8 k/h
Stop: 4:00	Cantine outside of Saint-Sulpice	89.2 km?	4:49	55 min		18.8 k/h
Depart: 4:40  Stop: 7:10	Got lost in Charlemagne. Eastern tip of Montreal Island	128 km?	7:06	1:15		18.0 k/h
Arrive: 9:30	Ville Émard	163 km?  163 km + 12 km (Louiseville) = 175 km	9:29	1:25		17.2 k/h

 

Path: LE-6

YouTube  l  Panorama LE-6 Legault Point / Pointe-à-Legault August 6, 2005

 

Had a good early start from Bell's Corners, but as I was bringing extra stuff to leave in Montreal, I was really loaded down. Felt like a pack horse. Plus, I had to get my rear tire replaced because it was seriously warped, affecting my rhythm. Didn’t have time to go to a serious bike shop so I had to settle for Canadian Tire. The technician there didn’t have the right tires in stock, and I was too impatient to wait so he put on a slightly thicker tire. It could be my imagination, but I think the thicker tire affected my speed.

I decided to take the scenic route, taking the shore by the river all the way past the Parliament, Rideau Hall, and the Aviation Museum. All the way to Tenth street in Orleans, I was on a nice paved cycling path with little traffic. Soon I was on the highway, with a very narrow shoulder. There was heavy traffic and the noise was stressing me out. I had planned on taking the ferry to the Quebec side in Thurso, but decided to cross over early and took the Cumberland – Angers-Masson ferry instead. I remembered on my last bike trip to Plaisance, that the Quebec side had a generous shoulder and nice scenery to boot. It was good timing: I cycled down the hill just as the ferry was filling up. On the other side, I stopped at a casse-croûte for a real chicken sandwich, sat on a picnic table and people-watched. An elderly gentleman chatted a bit in French with me. He wanted to know where I was coming from and where I was headed.

After I passed Plaisance the trip became more interesting because it was all new. I had passed through Montebello once before when I was with Randonnée Aventure so it was slightly familiar. It is a quaint little town and I was tempted to stop but kept going. It was a very sunny day and hot. I needed to move and create wind so I could cool off.

Right before I reached Calumet, I stopped at a yard sale. It was then that I realized how sweltering it was. It felt like I was literally melting. I spent $10.00 on a old plastic doll with a satin dress. Turns out it was the Baby Jesus from a crèche. The woman ended up being the owner of the campground I was headed to.

My LE-6 waypoint was also close by: Legault Point/Pointe-à-Legault. I had been cycling beside a railway track for the longest time. On my left was fields or houses, on my right was the track and beside it was la rivière des Outaouais. (On the map it said Lac Dollard des Ormeaux). At an intersection aptly titled Terrasse Legault, I turned right and crossed the tracks to reach a row of small lakeside houses. I would bet most of these houses used to be summer homes which were converted into year-round homes. There was also the occasional monstrosity: huge, garish new constructions. I preferred the small, cottage-type dwellings. I reached a point that seemed to jut out a bit, where there was a road leading to the water to allow boats to dock. On either side were little houses with big decks overlooking the water with plants and flowers all around. The light was shining on the water and it looked so peaceful. I could imagine waking up early in the morning and having coffee on the deck, just soaking up all the beauty. This was one of the few times where I really felt like I was trespassing, so I stayed a bit behind on the road and furtively took my photos in the round. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. If someone would have approached me, I would have explained the nature of my project apologetically.

Soon after, I saw the sign for the campsite (Grenville-sur-la-Rouge) but as I was going at a fast pace, and it was a gravel road, I wiped out on my left side. My hand and leg broke the fall, but I got up all scratched up. The dirt stuck to my sweat so that I reached the reception area looking like a mess. The campsite was unremarkable and if I had had more energy in me, I would have kept going. I had done 108 km on a very hot day and all I could think of was a shower and something to eat. I hurriedly pitched my tent and looked around. I was disappointed. There was a small beach (packed) with a tiny canteen. Apart from that, there were no other activities, not even a restaurant or a corner store. There was nothing within walking distance in the immediate area. I was stuck at the campsite. My bottom was so sore, I could not envision getting back on my bike that night.

I ate a greasy burger at the canteen and drank the sugared water that passed for juice. When I finally got ready for my shower, I had to pay $1.00 for four minutes of water. I was not impressed. The facilities were really cruddy on top of that with mold in the corners and cobwebs in the sinks.

After bugging the guy at the front desk at least three times, he finally took pity on me and lent me some magazines to occupy the long night ahead of me. La Semaine. I took out my flashlight, bought a bag of chips and a pop and enjoyed my guilty pleasure. I told myself it was a way to practice my French. People passing by seemed to be intrigued by the fact that I came in on a bike. A girl told her boyfriend she like my pup tent. He grunted. I received lots of curious glances from my neighbours (a guy with two girls, and a father with his young son) but I was too beat to engage in conversation. I was in bed at 9:00 PM, completely exhausted. I slept like a baby though, and woke with the birds at 6:00 AM. Waking up in the morning, with the tent all glowing orange with the sunrise is one of my favourite things. A true moment of happiness.

I munched on a cracker and decided to pack up and eat later. I wanted to leave that dreaded campground as fast as possible. As I cycled, I noted that the closest campground was a good 30 km away – there’s no way I could have gone further the day before so everything worked out in the end. I was in good spirits as I thought it was to be a shorter day. Little did I know that I was completely wrong. I had a good 130 km to go.

I stopped to eat in Grenville and forced myself to sit there an hour so that I could digest and relax a little with the paper. Everybody seemed to know everybody else – a popular spot for young and old. I liked the mix. There was a young guy who reminded me of my cousin Yves from Hawkesbury. His body posture. I stand like that too. It was the way the guy had his knees locked back so that the calves curved. He was wearing flip-flops and shorts and had the same polite expression Yves had when he was listening to an older person talk. Charming. A long stretch of road had been repaved so I maintained a good speed. I didn’t stop at the Carillon Locks as I had been there before with two Randonnée Aventure cyclists about four years ago.

I called Toni as I neared Saint-Placide, but reached Stefan instead – my new subletter as Vess had moved out. He kindly agreed to wait for me as I did not have the new key. Passing through Kanesatake, I remembered my last trip in that area (LE-9). I took the ferry from Oka to Hudson and made my way home. By Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue I was losing steam even though I knew I was on the home stretch. The heat had not let off and my legs were started to throb. My lower back was also aching.

I realized that I had not eaten since that morning. It was so hot all I could conceive of was drinking Gatorade. In Pointe-Claire I stopped and ate a kidney bean salad which completely revived me. The rest of the way I raced like a pack of wolves were at my heels. I just wanted to be home. Once I got onto the Lachine canal, I increased my speed clocking an easy 30 km/hour. However, once I passed the Sherbrooke/Marcil intersection I started to slow down. I blew a flat in my rear tire. In the end it was good because the walk home helped decrease my heart rate. I reached home completely burnt out, but happy to be back home with Dag and Toni. Stefan was nice enough to help me carry my bags and bike up the four flights of stairs.

Day 1 - August 6, 2005

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:35 Stop: 10:40		39.4 km	6:31	4 min	42.7k/h	20.4/h
Arrive: 11:20 Depart: 11:50	Masson-Cumberland Ferry N 45°31'591" W 75°24'619"
Stop: 1:30	Papineauville N 45°36'995" W 75°01'460"	77.8 km	3:50	30 min	182 k/h?	20.2/h
Depart: 1:50 Stop: 2:30	Fassett N 45°38'638" W 74°52'123"	91.8 km	4:30	54 min		20.4/h
Depart: 2:40 Stop: 3:25	Pointe-à-Legault N 45°38'477" W 74°44'365"	103 km	5:06	1:11		20.2/h
Arrive: 3:50	Campsite N 45°38'471" W 74°41'246"	108 km	5:27	1:18		19.8/h

 

Day 2 - August 7, 2005

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
7:50 Stop: 8:50	Grenville	15.4 km	48 min	12 min	48.7 k/h	18.9/h
Depart: 9:40 Stop: 10:40	Carillon N 45°33'977" W 74°22'453"	35.6 km	1:42			20.8/h
Arrive: 12:10 Depart: 12:25	Oka Ferry	66.2 km	3:07	1:12	50.6 k/h	21.2/h
Stop: 1:40 Depart: 2:15 Arrive: 4:00	Beaconsfield Rear tire flat at Sherbrooke and Marcil	126 km	6:22	1:46	48 k/h	19.8/h

 

Path: LE-1, LE-8, LE-10

YouTube  l  Panorama LE-1 Legault Waterway / Cours d'eau Legault June 18, 2005

DAY 1 - June 18, 2005

Left the house at 8:00 AM and didn’t stop again until I reached Masson-Angers to document a road sign. I had gone straight through for 50 km. I was feeling strong and energized. When I worked for the IBM Software Lab in Kanata, I spent all my weekends acquainting myself with the Ottawa and Gatineau trails instead of working on my thesis like I should have. With all this cycling experience in the Green Belt area, leaving Bell’s Corner was a breeze. I ended up in Quebec on rue Saint-Louis, overlooking the Outaouais. I realized that it was where I went with Pa last summer for the Montgolfières Festival. I remember having really liked the area with its little houses and large yards beside the water. It had character.

After the rush of downtown Gatineau traffic, I took rue Notre-Dame — a quaint, quiet street with rows of old houses. When I reached the highway again (148) there was little traffic and for the most part, I had a wide paved shoulder to bike on. All around me there were fields with cows and horses grazing and on my right were large expanses of wetland. It was nice to see land that was undeveloped and left to the water fowl and fauna. It was like green tongues were licking the river. Far off in the distance I could see the Ontario shore with the occasional steeple.

I stopped at a bank machine and a young man wearing yellow cycling glasses asked me: Comment tu trouves la circulation aujourd’hui? It was nice to meet a fellow cyclist, with the familiar wild gleam in his eye. He was craving the road. I stopped to eat at a casse-croute in Thurso and enjoyed reading a celebrity magazine. (I told myself that if I was improving my French, that it shouldn’t matter what I read.)

I passed Rue Legault on my way to the Parc national de Plaisance. I took a quick look around and went and paid for the campground. I was very impressed with the site. It was basically a long green strip of land that lurched into the Outaouais so that you could see the Quebec shore on one side, and the Ontario shore on the other. There was a lot of bird activity and it was very peaceful. I pitched my tent and ate a bite before setting off to visit two waypoints before night fall. At a crossroads in the park, I startled an animal and I heard a very loud splash. I neared closer and saw a huge beaver. I had never been that close before. I checked my map and went to leave again and I heard another splash. This time the beaver startled me. It sounded like a dog leaping in the water.

 

 

Legault Waterway/Cours d’eau Legault (LE-1) was just a street away, up a hill – Montée Papineau. I passed the cutest little houses, interspersed with old dairy farms. People were mowing their lawns, putting laundry outside to dry and taking care of their properties. It would be amazing to spend a couple of months soaking up the small town life, enjoying the slower pace. As it has often been the case, the river was buried in tall grasses off the road in the field. I could just see a hint of an indentation that suggested its passage. I went down a hill, my feet squishing and sinking in thick mud and came to a sort of foot bridge where water flowed underneath. Because I was so low, I felt like I was surrounded by a sea of green. In the distance I could hear kids crying out to each other on their motorbikes.

I’ve noticed that going back from my destination always seems shorter. Plus it was downhill. I decided since it was still relatively early (3:30), that I would go document Legaults’ Peninsula/Presqu’Ile Legault (LE-8) at the Baie Noire section of the park. This was the smaller tongue that made up the park and it had a few weathered sorry barns on it. I looked in one and fought the urge to scavenge – it looked to be an abandoned workshop. It was in grave disrepair with the roof falling in and grass growing on the inside. It reminded me of the boat house at camp.

On the trails, there were turtle nests everywhere with just the telltale shreds of their eggs remaining. I did not see one turtle. In fact, I did not see anyone at first and thought I was alone on the “almost island”. But at one point, my cell rang and it was Paul, wanting to know what I was doing for Canada Day. As I talked to him, a family cycled by and warned me that the ferry back to the campsite was not functional. (I was unaware that this ferry existed.)

 

YouTube  l  Panorama LE-8 Legaults’ Peninsula / Presqu'Île des Legaults June 18, 2005

 

I cycled on anyway, wanting to photograph the tip. It was worth the ride, which in itself was pleasant: pebbly lanes lined with trees with the water on both sides. At the tip there was a small rickety dock, a perfect vantage point. The sky was overcast and threatening to spill itself on the water which was clear but rippling slowly in the breeze.

I arrived back at the camp at around 5:30 and ate supper before setting off for an educational talk on frogs. We learned to discern their calls and then about ten of us piled into a rabaska and hit the water. We visited three small bays filled with lily pads and tried to be silent so that we could document the frog calls. It was a very scientific system. There were children in the boat which hampered our findings. They could not sit still nor could they paddle with rhythm. I nonetheless enjoyed our evening ride.

Jeannette called and then I got a hold of Lucien for a chat and a much needed, good hearty laugh. It was soon dark outside and I had nothing to read (plus the mosquitoes were relentless) so I went to bed early. At around 11:30 my cell rang again and I fumbled around for it in the dark. It was Pa calling from Korea. I laughed. It felt very surreal. We didn't talk long because I was not making any sense in my sleepy state. In the end, I did not sleep well at all because I did not bring a mat and the ground was very cold and humid. It seeped into my bones so that I had to shift positions every 15 minutes. I finally got up at 5:00 AM feeling exhausted.

 

DAY 2 - June 19, 2005

The next morning I decided to take the same route to LE-1 and then veer left to document Legault Stream/Ruisseau Legault (LE-10). This way I could see the Plaisance Falls. I passed a farmhouse where two dogs were barking. I took out my whistle and eyed the big gray dog warily. Turns out it was the smaller poodle type dog which was gutsy. It came at my heels and so I let it have the full whistle blast which eventually deterred its course. In the end, I passed right through the falls because I didn’t want to stop and pay the admission fee. The rest of the way I wound through farmers' fields, but it was uphill the whole way. I had to cycle on the road as well, but there was little traffic. The more I went north, the more I was surrounded by dense forest and rock. It seemed very deserted and lonely. I came to a place that seemed to be the stream but I was not sure. I could have gone further but as I neared a bend, three large dogs ran to the edge of their driveway to growl and bark their warnings. None of them were tied up and I did not want to risk it. Plus it was uphill.

 

YouTube  l  Panorama LE-10 Legault Stream / Ruisseau Legault June 19, 2005

 

I couldn’t even see the stream, the foliage was so thick. But I could hear it trickling. There may have been a small waterfall. This was probably the least striking waypoint up to date. Basically some bush by a highway. No water to be seen.

I ate in Thurso again and actually sat down for breakfast as it was chilly out and I wanted to warm up. The couple beside my table were very friendly and wanted to know more about my trip. The woman had just come back from Switzerland and had been very impressed with that country. They asked me if I had seen the small group walking up the hill. In fact I had smiled at a group of hikers as I passed. A couple of them carried what looked to be staffs. I discovered that it was a group of pelerins (pilgrims) following Le chemin des sanctuaires. They depart from Ottawa and follow the trail bordering the Ontario and Quebec side of the Outaouais all the way to Montreal — 225 km divided into 12 days of about 18 km.

I was fascinated by this concept of time and space. While cycling alone on long trips, I am often left to my own thoughts. I appreciate the relative "slowness" of my travels as it leaves me room to reflect. Also, the physical aspect of it centres me into the present moment. My 20 km an hour average is equivalent to one day of walking. I would like to attempt a walking pelerinage someday to experience that unique relation with time, space and solitude.

The route back was fast because it was now familiar. Once back in Ottawa, I decided to try out some new trails. Baseline. It was a bad idea because I was tired and of course, I kept getting lost when all I wanted to do was go home and sleep. The first day I had done 120 km and the second day, 100 km. It was not the distance that wore me out so much as the lack of sleep. I arrived in Bells Corners at 2:00 PM and promptly took to the couch. I woke up at 9:00 PM when Jane called. It felt very decadent to sleep in the middle of the day.

Day 1 - June 18, 2005

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:05 Stop: 10:55	Bells Corners Masson-Angers	49.9 km	2:31	20 min	85.2k/h?	19.8/h
Stop: 11:55 Depart: 12:25	Thurso N 45°35'786" W 75°14'741" Rue Legault N 45°36'336" W 75°07'385"	67.6 km	3:25	23 min
Arrive: 1:15	Parc N 45°35'943" W 75°06'531"	81.2 km	4:08	31 min + lunch with GPS off
Arrive: 3:25 Depart: 3:35	LE-1 N 45°38'087" W 75°06'945"	91.2 km	4:51	1:19
Arrive: 4:35	LE-8, LE-1 N 45°34'921" W 75°07'190"	102 km	5:27	1:36
Arrive: 5:35	Campsite N 45°36'047" W 75°03'982"	118k + 4k (campsite) = 122 km

 

Day 2 – June 19, 2005

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
6:15 Arrive: 7:50	LE-10 N 45°41'065'' W 75°12'993''	22.6 km	1:21	15 min	35.8k/h	16.6/h
Stop: 8:30 Depart: 9:10	Thurso
Arrive: 11:20	Lady Aberdeen bridge to cross Rivière Gatineau N 45°27'333'' W 75°42'183''	75.7 km	3:48	31 min	167k/h?	19.9/h
Arrive: 2:00	Bells Corners Took Pinecrest way and got lost. GPS stopped.	97 km	5:01	1:01		19.3/h

 

Path: LA-4

YouTube  l  Panorama LA-4 Lapalme Lake / Lac Lapalme August 9, 2003

 

Now that I was used to camping, I decided to do a quick overnight trip, my destination only 80 km away. Leaving the island through Laval’s suburbs was an experience as it was a very confusing trail system. I encountered many other cyclists as I passed by small villages and farmland. Less than five hours later, I was setting up my tent at Ste-Anne-des-Plaines campground; basically a summer trailer park. It suited my purposes fine: it was cheap, there was a small store to buy groceries, I could take a hot shower and my lot was sheltered by evergreens.

I set off soon after to find my lake. First, I went too far and had to double back. I then spent some time following a trail by a river, circling and lost. I finally emerged from 20 foot high reeds, and thick orange mud into someone’s backyard. I followed another trail and found the road where I started. I soon realized that the lake, almost a large pond, was in fact, accessible from the road. I had been bushwacking for nothing. The lake was out in the open and I was conscious that it was on private property. I hid by a bush to take my photos in the round. There were ducks on the water.

 

 

That night, back at the campsite, I read Thoreau’s Walden. Seemed appropriate. I slept soundly and woke up in the middle of the night in a rain storm. My tent was dry inside but the next morning at 9:00 AM it was still raining. I decided to pack up and go nonetheless. I was soon soaked to the bone with mud on my legs, in my hair, the back of my neck and along my back, even in my teeth. However, it was quite peaceful on the trails and a warm day despite the rain, so I kind of enjoyed the experience. I got into a good cycling rhythm and actually missed the Laval stop, continuing to Boisbriand (I will be going on a similar ride when I document LA-3. The more I gain experience, the less I will get lost). On the way back I took the Parc Linéaire des Basses Laurentides. I believe it leads all the way to Mont Tremblant.

Day 1 – August 1, 2003

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:40 Stop: 10:20 Depart: 10:30	Fruits et legumes, Montée St-François, Laval N 45°37'854" W 73°39'661"	20.2 km	1:08	19 min	40.1k/h	17.7k/h
Stop: 1:00	Sainte-Anne-des-Plaines N 45°45'844" W 73°48'662"	55.8 km	3:00	55 min	43.4k/h	18.6k/h
Depart: 1:15 Arrive: 1:58	Camping Lac des Plaines N 45°45'376" W 73°48'886"	63.3 km	3:28	1:37		18.2k/h
Depart: 3:05 Arrive: 3:45	Got lost. N 45°49'643" W 73°52'377"	74.6 km	4:03	1:51		18.3k/h
Arrive: 4:00	LA-4 N 45°49'891" W 73°49'530"	80.4 km	4:42	2:10		17.1k/h

 

Day 2 – August 2, 2003

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
9:45 Stop: 10:46	Chemin de la Côte St. Pierre, Parc Linéaire des Basses Laurentides	101 km	5:43	2:17	43.4k/h	17.7k/h
Stop: 11:35 Depart: 12:00	Sainte-Thérèse N 45°39'123" W 75°50'771"
Stop: 1:00	Boisbriand N 45°35'776" W 73°50'440"	129 km	7:11	2:35		17.9k/h
Arrive: 4:30		170 km	9:22			18.1k/h

 

Path: A-2, A-3

YouTube  l  Panorama A-2 Bauerman Creek / Crique Bauerman July 24, 2003

 

I had gone to the Banff Centre for the Arts for Interactive Screen 3.0 as part of Cyberpitch 2.0. After the residency, I took a bus to Pincher Creek and a man drove another hiker and I to Waterton National Park with the promise that he would return to get me in a few days. I set up my tent at Watertown campground and went exploring.

To get to my waypoints, I decided to rent a mountain bike, rickety but at least it would get me to point A. I set off, my muscles still sore from my 20 km hike the day before (Alderson-Carthew trail). The way to Red Rock Canyon was all uphill. It was hot and muggy and I missed having my panniers on the bike itself as my backpack was lumpy and jabbing me in the back. I stopped several times to repack the bag, redistribute items, and pull the hair from my face, sticky and clinging. I was cranky. Thankfully, there were very little cars and I stopped to read a few interpretive panels. At one display surrounded by purple wild flowers, I noticed a black bear sitting on its haunches in the grasses, about 20 metres away. I wasn’t scared, just surprised. It showed no reaction to seeing me, chewing its cud as I hopped on my bike and took off.

About two hours later, I reached the Snowshoe Trail and continued on my bike, but an hour later I had to lock it up. The terrain was too rocky and steep. It was actually faster to walk. A retired man from the States, Phil, soon joined me. At first, I didn’t mind because I was afraid or running into a cougar or a bear again. (I had been told to make a lot of noise while hiking and to cover the back of my neck as cougars targeted this area of the body when jumping from above. Just in case, I carried a Swedish fishing knife attached to my water bottle. I needed that false sense of security – false in that my spindly little knife would not be an effective weapon against a wild animal. Same as the bells to warn bears of human presence. Most of the rangers said that these did not work as the sounds did not carry). Because of the forest fires in Glacier National park, Phil had crossed the border. That park meets Waterton National Park at the border; they are called peace parks as the border is undefended. At the end of the trail we decided to part ways and try and meet up later. I wanted to hike to Lost lake and to be honest, wanted a little peace and quiet to soak in my surroundings.

My heart was beating hard the whole length of the trail as I didn’t see another person. I made as much noise as I could, humming and making up songs, but my sounds seemed blanketed by the thick foliage. It was worth the hike to encounter this magical lake with its tranquil, emerald water, embraced and protected by a mountain range. It was fitting to find a lake with this placename as I had been lost so many times during the course of my project. A seesaw between two states: one of searching (discovery) and one of being lost (the unknown).

Apart from a small sign with the altitude, there did not seem to be any trace of human intervention. A wild, indeed lost lake. Grizzlies were said to graze on the opposite shore when the wild flowers were in season. Going back down the trail, I took photos for the second time of Bauerman Creek (A-2), capturing it at different bends. I had lunch and waited for Phil at our meeting point, but eventually set off alone. He caught up later. I politely declined a ride with him back at the Red Rock Canyon and went for a dip in the icy water to cool off. I saw Mount Bauerman (A-3) from a distance and realized that that would be the closest I got to its peak.

It was eery to see Bellevue mountain again in the summer as Jennifer and I had stopped at that location in the winter of 2001 when I first attempted to document Mont Bauerman by a snowshoe trail. I remember clearly how the sounds of coyotes yelping in the wind, witchy and highpitched, had sent shivers down my spine. We were not properly equipped to go on a long unguided excursion.

 

During both trips, Mont Bauerman was inaccessible. I had to trust that Bauerman was somewhere behind Bellevue mountain, without having seen it myself. In retrospect, the search for these waypoints is not so much about toponymy and placenames as much as about letting go and leaving some things to the realms of the unknown.

On my way back to the campsite, I saw what I assumed was the same bear again, this time in the middle of the road as I came up a hill. I turned my bike around ready to go the other way if it came after me. I put my arm up to warn the cars coming up behind me to wait. The bear eventually crossed the road and sauntered back to the meadow. I raced by in case it decided to give chase and went and reported the sightings to the warden.

 

Back at Waterton Lakes, the view was stunningly beautiful, but in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew why the skies were so pink. It was the smoke blowing in from the States: the forest fires in Glacier National park, just a border away.

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
9:45 Arrive: 11:40	Snowshoe Trail N 49°07'822" W 114°01'578" (4910 FT)	18.6 km	1:26	31 min	46.6k/h	12.8k/h
Leave: 11:50 Stop: 1:00.	Locked up bike at 1:00. Started hiking with Phil.
Arrive: 1:40	Bauerman Creek N 49°08'67" W 114°07'445" (5639 FT)	27.8 km	2:55	55 min		9.5k/h
Arrive: 2:25 Stop: 3:05 Depart: 3:25	Lost Lake N 49°08'844" W 114°08'655" (5639 FT) Bauerman Creek N 49°08'795" W 114°07'735"
Arrive: 4:45 Depart: 5:15	Red Rock Canyon
	Cycling parkway Cycling Snowshoe trail Hiking Snowshoe trail	40 km 8 km 12 km = 60 km	6:28	2:30		9.3k/h

 

Path: A-10, A-11, A-13

YouTube  l  Panorama A-11 Angers River / Rivière Angers July 4, 2003

Day 1 – June 22, 2003

Montréal - Lévis

The trip started off well as early on, on the Les Dauphins shuttle, I met two very nice men in their late forties and fifties, Jean-Paul and Achille. They were going on a cycling trip to New Brunswick. It took four hours to get to Québec from Montréal. I strapped my bike onto the roof where they had a bike rack. It was a very hot day and so when I made it to Lévis, and got lost – ended up circling around and climbing up steep hills – I thought I would faint. I arrived to one of the most beautiful houses, where I took a long bath and actually napped for a couple of hours. I went for a walk when it cooled down, eating at a restaurant that overlooked Quebec City, all lit up in the night. I was glad to have my cell so that I could talk with Mom and share the excitement of the start of the trip. I was tired starting off. Heather and I had had a huge dinner party two nights before.

 

Day 2 – June 23, 2003

Lévis - La Pocatière

I left early on a muggy, humid morning with little wind. It grew hotter in the afternoon. The Route Verte took a detour off the highway to overlook fields that met the water’s edge with white flowering trees. However, there were many steep hills that added km to the ride. I passed the same pair of hitchhikers three times that day. On the third time I asked then where they were going. Sainte-Flavie. (I would be there in three days). The day’s high was sitting by the water at Berthier sur Mer, on a long dock, and talking to Pa on my cell. Left a message for Lucien too. The day’s low was the last long stretch of highway against a strong wind.

L'Islet-sur-Mer

The most vivid memories were the smell of skunk, burnt tires and manure. Seeing a cow graze in a forest of Christmas trees. Fields with streaks of intense yellow, almost lime? Dandelions. A huge dappled gray work horse that stomped its back feet menacingly as I fed it. Ant hills.

 

Day 3 – June 24, 2003

La Pocatière - Trois Pistoles

Very strong wind with no tree cover. Sunny and alternate downcast skies but with a chilly wind from the water. The day’s high was cycling through the pretty villages of Notre-Dame de la Portage and Kamouraska. I stopped by the water at the latter to look at the waves crashing on the rocks. The day’s low was the hill I had to climb to get into Trois-Pistoles, on rubber legs because of the wind. (I soon discovered a bike path on the return trip). However, Nicole and Ivan were great hosts and shared their meal with me – spaghetti dinner with beer. They then gave me a tour around town. The townspeople gather at the dock at dusk for a stroll. I treated them to ice cream. I have memories of farms and forests with 20 feet high white crosses, les Croix de chemin. Roosters crowing as I passed St-Denis.

 

Day 4 – June 25, 2003

Trois Pistoles - Sainte-Flavie

A muggy, humid morning. Little wind. Rain at Pointe-au-Père. The day started on a low as I had to walk my bike up very steep, gravelly hills in the morning, on the Littoral Basque trails. But riding downhill into the Parc québécois du Bic made up for it as I feasted my eyes on the roundish mountains rising from the water surrounded by fog. In Pointe-au-Père, at the lighthouse, I met Éric, a physiotherapist. He came over to talk as I was putting on my tights because of the wind. He was curious to know where I was from and where I was going.

Memories of seeing cows graze in the shadow of the forests and the long pebbly beach at Sainte-Flavie with the folk-art, where I walked until the sun went down.

 

Day 5 – June 26, 2003

Sainte-Flavie - Réserve faunique de Matane

It was a very hot day (more than 30 degrees) with no cover from the sun and little wind. I had to stop and buy Gatorade and apply sunscreen regularly. At times, I was going up hills so slowly, the GPS thought that I had stopped. I can’t count how many logging trucks passed in a thunderous roar. I stopped in Matane to buy groceries and a tarp and some rope for camping at Canadian Tire. The day’s low was taking the wrong entrance to the park twice. I was lost and frustrated and tired from the scorching sun. Had a hot panicky cry overlooking the water, where a few men were fly fishing.

Felt better later on, pitching my tent up for the first time and enjoying the sensation of sleeping outdoors, separated only by a thin screen.

 

Day 6 – June 27, 2003

Réserve faunique de Matane - Ste-Anne-des-Monts

The day’s high was waking up at dawn with the birds, safe and cozy in my tent. It was still cool when I set out but it soon went up to more than 30 degrees, with no cover from the sun. The air was still with no wind. Met a guy from Montreal working in the park for the summer on the Quebec portion of the Appalachian Trail. At about noon, I was not surprised that I got a flat on my back tire. I had been pushing my bike over hills with large broken rocks for hours. The sun was directly over me and casting no shadow. Unrelenting and intense. I ran out of water. I cried a bit which helped me calm down, unpacked my bike, replaced the tube, pumped it up, and re-packed. Almost as I finished, a truck came by and the driver asked if I was ok. It felt good to be able to tell him that everything was under control. He told me that there was a natural spring up ahead, but was nice enough to give me a bottle of water. When I got to the spring, I slipped on a wet board and fell behind onto my back into the mud. I had to laugh so that I would not break down. I ate my lunch by the water at the Centre d’interprétation de l’Orignal. Had a real hard cry just to be done with all the anxiety, and proceeded to take a much needed break. I went through the exhibit, marveled at the size of a huge stuffed bull moose — like a dinosaur! — and chatted a bit with the two interpreters. The rest was downhill (literally), and I encountered no other traffic. Though I heard rustlings, I saw no wildlife. I was disturbed by the amount of forestry clear cutting lots. They would cut trees from the inside and leave a wall of trees so that you could not see the immediate damage. It was surprising that this was happening in a provincial reserve. I finally made it to the hostel, looking a little ragged. I saw a tall, skinny guy and wondered if he was a cyclist. The next morning we talked over breakfast and he introduced himself as Robin from Slovenia. Turned out to be the same guy I contacted through Lonely Planet before setting out on my trip. He had not gotten back to me but it was for the better. I needed to know I could do this trip on my own.

 

Day 7 – June 28, 2003

Ste-Anne-des-Monts - Parc Québécois de la Gaspésie

Robin was going to hitchhike into the park the next morning. I decided to take it easy and eat breakfast at my leisure and write postcards. I also went and bought extra tire tubes and bike supplies as I had used my last spare tube. In the end, I was frustrated that the hostel was on the outskirts of town. I walked because I needed to take a break from the bike, but it meant that I only left for the park after noon. Had I left earlier, I could have taken a hike and explored a little more.

On the climb uphill, a van passed me and beeped as they slowed down. I gave the driver a blank stare. Robin was in the back. I did not recognize him. The day’s high was meeting Gen (Genevièvre) Dorais at the Faucon cabin. She was hiking part of the Appalachian trail by herself. We hit if off and ended up eating a nice supper at the lodge together. It was nice to be able to practice my French. The woman at the desk, Julie Fournier, was also very friendly, inviting me to contact her the next time I was in the area.

 

Day 8 – June 29, 2003

Mont-Albert - Petite-Vallée

A hot dusty morning as I had to walk my bike up gravely mountain roads; they were too steep to ride. Pheasants would ruffle their feathers and give chase or bluff as I passed by. I saw moose and deer droppings everywhere, but no wildlife. As I went downhill, it was faster despite the gravel and pocked-marked roads. When I reached Mont St-Pierre, the air was much cooler because of the Saint-Laurent. I was faced with a head wind. There were less and less buildings and the villages grew smaller as I advanced. An old man in Manche-d’Épée wished me luck, warning me of the hills up ahead. I thought he was not giving me enough credit until I saw the first hill. More of a small mountain, and there was a range of them. I had to walk my bike up. A little bit after Rivière-de-la-Madelaine, a van passed me, evidently took pity on me when they saw the hills up ahead, and circled back. It was a family from Ottawa. They strapped my bike to the back and drove me all the way to La Maison Lebreux in la Petite Vallée. Though it was only 20 km, because of the extreme hills, it would have taken me another 3-4 hours. I would have arrived at 10:00 PM, completely exhausted. The day’s low was eating a can of beans in my room for supper because the dining room was full, feeling very sorry for myself. I was too tired too protest. The corner store was closed. It was a remote area. There were no restaurants in the vicinity. I was too sore to get back on my bike. There was a huge party going on in the barn next door because of the music festival (Village en chanson de Petite-Vallée). Robert Charlebois was performing. I felt very alone and went to bed early. My room was so tiny, like an attic. I couldn’t stand up straight without bumping my head.

 

Day 9 – June 20, 2003

Petite-Vallée - Cap-aux-os

I had a good hearty breakfast the next morning, but because it only started at 8:00 AM, I left relatively late. I had many more hills to tackle. It was hard not to get discouraged. I really pushed myself. Sometimes I would cry with frustration. Most of the time I just buckled down and rode. It was a miserable morning. The sea wind was so cold, I kept having to stop and put on more layers. There was a strong cold headwind and it was overcast. The hills were tough and constant. It rained hard with a fierce wind at Rivière du Renard, but after this point, the hills lessened a bit. I was getting tired of walking my bike up hills. Plus, the road conditions were bad; no shoulder and lots of pot holes.

At l’Anse-au-Griffon, I passed Robin coming the opposite way. He was on an exploratory ride. When I finally arrived at the hostel, he was waiting. He had made supper for me and Dan from Australia. I was so touched at his generosity. We talked and laughed after dinner for a long time. I grew to prefer the hostels over the campgrounds because of the people. The camaraderie, the laughter.

 

Day 10 – July 1, 2003

Cap-aux-Os - Parc National Forillon

This was an incredible park. It was amazing to have a whole day off to hike and enjoy the scenery. The day’s high was definitely walking to “the end of the world” at the tip of the park: Cap-de-Gaspé. It is either the beginning or the end of the Appalachian trail. There is a beautiful lighthouse at the tip with a few seals bobbing in the water below. I could imagine having a small wedding there and for the honeymoon, strapping on a backpack and hiking the trail. On the way I saw three porcupines busily grazing away in the grass, oblivious to my presence.

A seagull, with what appeared to be a broken leg, swooped down on me a couple of times at a quiet beach. Perhaps, I was close to a nest. I had to rush the last 10 km because it was getting dark. I had to go through the woods in the dark to get back to the campsite, but I did not encounter a bear as I feared. (There had been a sighting earlier in the day). I ended up hiking 20 km that day, completely enjoying the outdoors.

 

Day 11 – July 2, 2003

Cap-Bon-Ami - Percé

I left early from my campsite, but the hills slowed me down. I got to the hostel and met up with Dan. He told me that Robin had already left. We said our goodbyes and I raced up the hill to catch up with him. He was annoyed with me, but soon were both in good spirits despite the wind in our face and the overcast weather. The day’s low was when I was called ‘salope’ as I was struggling up a steep hill in Gaspé. It was just a bunch of kids but it still hurt. I was glad to be with Robin. (Because I had so many bags, he joked that it looked like we were a couple, and I had the burden of the load. The good wife).

The day’s high was definitely reaching the top of the hill overlooking Percé and drinking in that stunning view, perhaps made more special by the contrast. The last hills into Percé had been heavy with traffic. (I decided to cancel my spot at the Bois-de-Percé campground. It was worth it to stay at La Maison Rouge with Robin. It was a magical evening and it rained in the morning so I was grateful I didn’t go camping. It is hard to set off on a day of cycling when it is cold and wet.) Robin and I were giddy with excitement. First we ran out to Percé rock. I had been there as a kid, but it seemed more vibrant than my dim memories with its pinks, mints and creams; the way the light shone on the rock. The tide was rising so we could not walk right up to it. Then we went to get groceries and Robin cooked an amazing vegetarian meal. He set up the table and everything and we chatted and laughed as we ate. The other guests were very friendly also, like we were with old friends. I met a Finnish man from Montreal who lives in the Coop in Montreal, close to Chinatown. The hostel itself was a beautiful reconverted farm with lots of windows. The next morning, getting ready, we were both smiling. I felt almost euphoric. I was just so happy to have his company after so many days of cycling on my own. I was fond of him like he was a little old man with all his quirks that I had grown used to over the years. Maybe he felt the same way as he hummed a little tune to himself.

 

Day 12 – July 3, 2003

Percé - Hopetown

When I got up at 5 AM, I was greeted with a pounding headache from the changing air pressure. Outside, it was misty with heavy rain at times. It cleared in the afternoon and the sun came out. In Cap-d’Espoir, Robin’s tire blew out. He hitchhiked to Grande-Rivière and I caught up to him at the bike store. We felt bad to part ways, which is why it felt good to catch up to my friend again. After cycling so many days solo, it was such a treat to have a cycling buddy. (I later found out that because of SARS, there were less European tourists on the trails that year, which explained why I seldom encountered other cyclists.) At the B&B, I pretended that he was my boyfriend so that he could share my room. That way he could save some money. (I had made the reservation weeks before for only one person.) The owner, an older man, was a little flirtatious. I think he knew we were not a couple. I was glad that Robin was there as I was uncomfortable with his comments even if they were probably harmless. We got a ride to Pasbébiac and checked our e-mail at the municipal library, where opera music (Madame Butterfly) played in the background. We ate the worst pizza ever: we ordered vegetarian and received a pizza with grated carrots and no cheese. We had to walk back the last 7 km as nobody would pick us up. It was a rough town, with big brutes hanging out car windows, yelling as they sped by. Again, there was a feeling of safety being with another person.

 

Day 13 – July 4, 2003

Hopetown - New Richmond

It was strange (foolhardy?) sleeping in a bed with a man I didn’t know very well. I felt completely safe though. I trusted him, plus I don’t think he was interested in me in that way. A mutual feeling. A compromise. Practical really. Two people, one bed. More than the bed, was the routine we shared; intimate routines readying for sleep like his yoga and my tooth brushing. I remember him smiling at me from his pillow right before retiring. I had trouble sleeping though because of the traffic outside. We needed to leave the window open because of the heat. We woke to a hot, humid day with many flies. At breakfast, I admitted to the owner that Robin was not my boyfriend and that I had picked him up along the way. I hate being dishonest. Maybe I wanted to shock him a bit. He was genuine in his hope that I would come visit again. He showed us his horses in the back before we set off. We got to New Richmond in no time. I introduced Robin as my "chum" and we went to look at the room. It was beautiful and I was excited by the sight of a screened in porch. Outside, Robin told me he was going to continue on. It was early in the day and he needed to get headway. I completely understood but still felt like my heart was ripped out. I was losing my cycling buddy. We hugged and I said ‘Greva’ – goodbye in Slovenian. He looked just as sad and waved going down the hill. The house owner’s were puzzled that my ‘boyfriend’ had just disappeared. It was kind of comic. I still went upstairs and had a little sad cry. Though it was great to have a cycling partner for part of my trip, it was better that he left. I had work to do. I was back to my lone thoughts and wanderings.

I picked myself up and went of in search of A-11, Angers River/Rivière Angers. I had done my research. It was not very far. I even found a sign. That was a great feeling; knowing I was on the right path.

The river turned out to be a salmon fishing river. It was quite beautiful and musical as well – babbling brooks. I stopped in at the Cascapedia River Museum and found out that it is also referred to as ‘Anglers’ river because of sport fishing, and as Skimenac river by the local Mi’kmaq community. I would like to go back and do further research. I never did find La Ferme village. Perhaps it was a couple of farms that have since been destroyed?

 

Day 14 – July 5, 2003

New Richmond - Pointe-à-la Garde

It was a very hot day with little wind but the landscape – rolling hills with farms falling into la Baie des Chaleurs with New Brunswick on the other side – made it worthwhile. I found Angers River South/Rivière Angers Sud (A-13), early in the morning. It was almost a creek and quite hidden by the foliage. The fence gave it away.

I had to cross private property and was nervous, but then two cyclists actually passed me. I stopped one of them and he told me they were training for an upcoming race. I laughed. I thought I was in the middle of nowhere. The only sign of human presence were the neat rows of young saplings that were obviously re-planted. He told me that I was on an old gold prospecting road. I tried to go further out of curiosity, but it grew increasingly swampy, hot and humid. The bugs kept me back.

YouTube  l  Panorama A-13 Angers River South / Rivière Angers Sud July 5, 2003

On the way to the hostel I went through the Parc de Miguasha. Hilly and overlooking the bay. I would have liked to stop at the museum to see the fish fossils. According to a local man who gave me directions, my route would pass by Kevin Parent’s house.

When I finally got to the hostel, I had to walk my bike uphill to the Auberge du Château Bahia through the searing heat. At the top I talked to the owner, sweating and profusely and red-faced, only to find out that my reserved room was at the bottom of the hill in the bunker. I promptly changed my reservation, which turned out to be a good thing: I met more people at the communal candle light dinner that night. Daniel and Nathalie from Paris, and Adam, a carpenter from New Zealand who sat opposite me. He was building a new addition to the Chateau – a Library. I remember his face all sunburnt and hot, sweating from the candelabra in front of him. I took a liking to the musical sound of his accent and his shy nature. We traded traveling stories over the meal. That night we talked outside and I gave him the GPS coordinates of the hostel as well as my coordinates in Montreal if he were ever to stop by during his travels. I stayed in “La Tour Xavier Mauny” in the Virginia Woolf room.

 

Day 15 July 6, 2003

Pointe-à-la-Garde - Causapscal

I left in the morning, sad to leave my new friend. When I went to say goodbye, he was already working on the exterior wall of the library. It was muggy, humid, with little wind. It became hotter in the afternoon and the head wind increased so that my knees felt strained and weak. A bit before Routhierville, I took a lakeside path that I hoped led to Causapscal, as I was tired of the highway with all the transports. It turned out to be a pleasant diversion. I remember seeing a young woman on a tractor, transporting bales of hay to a conveyor belt connected to a barn. After a hard ride, it was a pleasant surprise to get to my destination; a lovely, quaint little town with a river running through it. Some men, waist-deep in the water, were fishing. I was greeted at the B&B by an elderly lady. She could not climb the stairs, and so I had the whole top floor to myself. I was tired and did not feel like talking. She invited some other ladies over for their weekly card game. She sweetly offered to drive me into town. I decided to treat myself to the table d’hôte. I was craving seafood after days of eating yoghourt, bananas and casse-croûte fare. I was served a pasta that was so starchy, that I could not finish it despite valiantly trying to eat my money’s worth. I went to bed early.

 

Day 16 – July 7, 2003

Causapscal - Ste-Angèle-de-Mérici

YouTube  l  Panorama A-10 Angers Bridge / Pont Angers July 7, 2003

 

Started out on a sunny day and very windy. I found Ruisseau Pearson, but could not find the trail in the fields beside it that led to Angers bridge/pont Angers (A-10). The GPS seemed to be off track. Finally I followed some dirt bike trails through a meadow and some woods. I ended up back on the road and so I tried another trail. It did lead to what used to be a bridge, crumbled and decayed. It looked over hills of golden fields and at the end of the path was a beautiful old farmhouse. The feeling that the path from Angers bridge led to the house seemed magical, other-worldly. That feeling stayed with me all day.

The day’s low was trying to take a shortcut around lake Matapédia and having to detour back because it was impossible. From Sayabec (pronounced like Québec – Sébec – as someone was quick to point out), it was downhill all the way with little wind. (Seven years later, I discovered that my great grandfather on my mother's side, Désiré Hamilton, was originally from Sayabec.) Sainte-Angèle was a very small town, with not much more than a main street.

 

Day 17 – July 8, 2003

Sainte-Angèle-de-Méricie - Parc québécois du Bic

I left on an overcast morning. By the time I reached Saint-Luce, I had to stop because of the heavy wind and rain. My GPS shut off at one point. I decided to wait the storm off for a bit and visited the Site historique maritime de Pointe-au-Père, which had a fascinating exhibit on the sinking of the Empress of Ireland. It was an excellent exhibit and surprisingly touching. I teared up a few times. I was glad to have taken the time. Winds were so fierce from Rimouski to Bic that I thought my bike would fall over sideways. I also remembered climbing up a large hill, right as I got into Mont-Joli from the Matapedia valley; I passed a farm and a big black dog came running towards me. I blew my trusty whistle and sure enough, it stopped dead in its tracks, very puzzled looking.

I got into parc du Bic early in the afternoon. I should have set up my tent as soon as I got there, but I poked around in the store for some grub first. There was a thunderstorm approaching and I set up my tent right in the middle of it – lightening bolts and crashing thunder. I was soaked to the skin and I was afraid to lose my contacts, such was the water streaming down my face. My hefty little tent stood up to the abuse though. Not one leak. I changed my clothes and took a nap to warm up. I could hear other people setting up as I slept. After eating a bit, I went off for a hike before the sun set. It was remote and peaceful. I did not see anyone else. I needed the quiet after being in traffic all day.

I had to chase an aggressive chipmunk away from my trail mix when I got back to my campsite. He had no fear, even trying to get into my tent. I talked to the three guys at the campfire and they invited me to join them even sharing their beer with me. Sylvain, Micaël and Pierre were from France, taking a month off to backpack through the Gaspésie. We talked until late, each with a different regional accent.

 

Day 18 – July 9, 2003

Parc québécois du Bic – Rivière du Loup

The next morning I packed everything up because I wanted to hike before leaving. I hiked to Cap-à-l’Orignal and walked on pebbly beaches and sandy coves. A moose was said to have been chased off that cliff. It had chosen its own fate rather than let itself be captured. After leaving the park, I went on to cycle through more wind. My knees were very sore. I got to the hostel so late that the grocery store was closed. I couldn’t eat with the others in the communal kitchen (which was fine, they were not very friendly – inclusive group). I went out for pizza. On my return I talked to an Australian couple touring Quebec and Ontario and the girl at the front desk. Went to bed early.

 

Trois-Pistoles

Day 19 – July 10, 2003

Rivière-du-Loup – Saint-Jean Port-Joli

Set out on a windy day, but the route was flat and I made good time. Right before getting to Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, I stopped in a marché de puces to get a pretty tin canister, after almost an hour of browsing. I was in heaven. When I got to the village, I was met with colourful, well-kept houses. It is the sculpture capital of Quebec. I went out for supper at “La coureuse des grèves” restaurant then walked on the beach and to the docks as the sun went down in bright pink, orange and purple.

I chatted with the owner of the B&B in the kitchen, a bright, lively woman. She told me that there was another cyclist staying there from Spain. He was doing the same cycling route that I was, except he was going in the other direction. So when I walked into the house and saw a man, long, lean and muscular, stretched out on the sofa watching TV, I assumed it was that cyclist and approached him. He looked puzzled and I felt stupid that I had blurted out my question – had I been rude? My face reddened and I escaped to my room.

Day 20 – July 11, 2003

Saint-Jean Port-Joli – Lévis

The next morning I went down early for breakfast and the man from the night before came down later. He was so tall – seven feet? – that he had to stoop to get into the room. There were about twelve people gathered at the table. I finally met the cyclist from Spain but he was not very friendly. Met a nice couple from Victoriaville. It truly was a feast and I enjoyed the chatter. Over the course of the meal, I found out that the tall man used to be a dancer with the National Ballet and he was in town choreographing a new piece. We talked about my bike trip but I did not volunteer that it was an art project. There were too many interesting, overlapping conversations at the table. I did leave some material behind with my project details. I then went down to an artist-run-centre, Est-Nord-Est Centre de Sculpture, to meet with Nathalie Lafortune and Julie Picard. We talked over coffee about my Tongue Rug project and their residency program. I was really touched by their generosity, spending that time with me. Julie showed me her work and we hit if off. I left with such a good impression of the centre with thoughts of applying for the residency.

It was an overcast day with showers. Unfortunately, I had too many coffees at the centre and soon I was cycling with a fever, cold sweats and cramping. I had to stop a few times because of the pain. I almost didn’t make it to the rest stop close to Berthier-sur-Mer. I finally made it to Lévis feeling very weak, wet and cold, ready for a hot bath. It was eerie to be back in Lévis after almost three weeks; browner, leaner and tired. At the same time, I was glad to have ‘my’ room again, a familiar comfort. I called Mom to let her know I was safe. She was a lifeline for me. It was grounding to be able to talk to her everyday, to know that she was thinking of me. And in terms of safety, it was a good day to check in every day with someone who knew my itinerary in case something happened. Most of all, on those cold, hard days her voice brought me warmth. On those euphoric days, it was great to be able to share my excitement. I did not realize how lonely a long solo bike trip could be. Yet that feeling was fleeting, as I would always end up meeting the most interesting people.

 

Day 21 – July 12, 2003

Lévis – Montréal

Got up early for breakfast but went back to bed for two hours simply exhausted. I left for the ferry in the morning feeling groggy. I left my bike at the ferry and walked around Quebec city for a couple of hours. I browsed in various over-priced antique stores and actually ran into Daniel and Nathalie from Paris. We chatted for a bit and I told them about my camping experience at Le Bic. When I told them about ‘le petit suisse’ in my tent, they didn’t know that I meant a chipmunk, and envisioned a small Swiss man coming on to me in my tent. We had a good laugh over that confusion. I enjoyed taking the hydrofoil back. This time without traveling companions, I was left to look out the window and dream, and reflect on my trip. I had a great feeling of accomplishment, some sadness that my journey was over, and some relief and excitement at seeing the Montreal skyline rise from the fog. The leisurely ride home through the Lachine canal trails, St-Henri – my familiar haunts – felt strange; like I had been away for a long time. I hardly had time to unpack. I had to leave for Banff in two days.

Day 1 – June 22, 2003 (Montréal - Lévis)

 

Day 2 – June 23, 2003 (Lévis - La Pocatière)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
7:45 Stop: 12:00 Depart: 12:45	Cap-Saint-Ignace N 47°01'330" W 70°28'842"	65.1 km	3:32	1:30	50.1k/h	18.4k/h
Arrive: 4:30	La Pocatière N 47°20'876" W 70°04'715"	115 km	6:27	2:16		17.8k/h

 

Path: Lévis, St-Michel-de-Bellechasse, St-Vallier, Berthier sur Mer, Montmagny, Cap St-Ignace, L’Islet-sur-Mer, St-Jean-Port-Joli, St-Roch-des-Aulnaies, La Pocatière

 

Day 3 – June 24, 2003 (La Pocatière - Trois Pistoles)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
6:35 Stop: 10:50 Depart: 11:15	Saint-André de Kamouraska N 47°41'818" W 69°41'655"	51.4 km	3:31	51 min	42.6k/h	14.6k/h
Stop: 1:00	Directions in Rivière du Loup N 47°49'793" W 69°32'697"
Arrive: 4:30	Trois-Pistoles N 47°20'876" W 70°04'715"	118 km	8:41	1:43	49.4k/h	13.6/h

 

Path: La Pocatière, Rivière-Ouelle, St-Denis, Kamouraska, St-André, Notre-Dame-du-Portage, Rivière du Loup, Cacouna, L’Isle Verte, Trois Pistoles

 

Day 4 – June 25, 2003 (Trois Pistoles - Sainte-Flavie)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
6:10 Stop: 8:22 Leave: 8:45	Saint-Siméon N 48°12'480" W 69°02'700"	21.2km	1:55	21 min	38.8k/h	11.0k/h
Stop: 10:40 Depart: 11:10	Parc québécois du Bic N 48°21'029" W 68°47'822"	40 km	3:09	25 min		12.9k/h
Stop: 12:50 Depart: 1:05	Rimouski (Piste Cyclable Raymond-Sirois) N 48°25'753" W 68°35'575"
Arrive: 4:30	Sainte-Flavie N 48°37'03" W 68°13'09" (18 FT )	94 km	7:16	1:20	40k/h	12.9k/h

 

Path: Trois Pistoles, St-Simon, St-Fabien, Le Bic, Sacré Ceoru, Rimouski, Pointe-au-Père, Ste-Lucie, Mont-Joli, Sainte-Flavie

 

Day 5 – June 26, 2003 (Sainte-Flavie - Réserve faunique de Matane)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
Depart: 5:05 Stop: 7:50 Leave: 8:20	Baie-des-Sables N 48°44'415" W 67°51'54"	38 km	2:24	59 min	44.6k/h	15.7k/h
Stop: 10:20 Depart: 12:15	Matane N 48°51'122" W 67°32'244"	66 km	4:04	1:46		16.3k/h
Stop: 1:20 Depart: 1:30	Saint-René-de-la-Matane N 48°43'270" W 67°26'749"	87.4 km	5:13	3:40		16.7k/h
Arrive: 2:35	Entrance of Réserve Faunique de Matane N 48°39'328" W 57°19'875"	101km	6:12	3:54		16.2k/h
Arrive: 3:40	Poste John - Réserve Faunique de Matane N 48°38'969" W 67°16'369"	104km	6:30	4:01		16k/h

 

Path: Sainte-Flavie, Grand-Métis, Métis-sur-Mer, Les Boules, Baie-des-Sables, St-Ulric, Matane, St-René de Matane, Réserve faunique de Matane

 

Day 6 – June 27, 2003 (Réserve faunique de Matane - Ste-Anne-des-Monts)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
Depart: 7:30 Stop: 11:45 Leave: 12:25	Réserve faunique de Matane N 48°41'866" W 66°50'067"
Arrive: 1:00	Étang de la Truite N 47°40'849" W 66°47'151"	36.3 km	3:05	1:13	30.7k/h	11.7k/h
Arrive: 1:30 Depart: 2:30	Centre d’interprétation de l’Orignal GPS shut off.
Arrive: 7:45	Sainte-Anne-des-Monts N 49°08'133" W 66°27'712" (22FT)	58.3 km? Recalculated with map. 130 km	4:42?	2:53?	30k/h	12.4k/h

 

Path: Réserve faunique de Matane, Cap-Chat, Ste-Anne-des-Monts

 

Day 7 June 28, 2003 (Ste-Anne-des-Monts - Parc Québécois de la Gaspésie)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
Depart: 12:45 Stop: 2:50 Depart: 3:00	Grande Fosse N 48°58'915" W 66°12'412" (553FT)	30.1km	1:41	29 min	46k/h	17.8k/h
Arrive: 3:45	Parc Québécois de la Gaspésie N 48°56'081" W 66°06'731"	37.5 km	2:20	33 min		16k/h

 

Path: Ste-Anne-des-Monts, Parc Québécois de la Gaspésie

 

Day 8 June 29, 2003 (Mont-Albert - Petite-Vallée)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
Depart: 7:15 Stop: 9:22 Leave: 9:45	Lookout on Route 16 N 48°54'126" W 66°03'005" (3745FT)	9.69 km	1:58	8 min	14.5k/h	4.9k/h
Stop: 12:20 Depart: 12:30	Camping du Mont Jacques-Cartier N 49°01'568" W 65°52'808" (3418FT)	41.2 km	4:41	30 min	30.4k/h	8.8k/h
Stop: 2:25 Depart: 3:20	Saint-Pierre-des-Monts N 49°13'362" W 65°48'379" (1666FT) GPS shut off in the park.	63.6 km	6:36	35 min	30.4k/h	9.6k/h
Arrive: 7:00 Moving Time: 8:02 Stopped: 1:55 Max Speed: 82.2k/h (van) Moving Avg.: 12.3k/h	Petite Vallée N 49°13'407" W 65°02'670" (152FT) Recalculated from map: 150 km (Cycled 130 and rode 20km)	98.7 km	8:02	1:55	82.2k/h (van)	12.3k/h

 

Path: Mont-Albert, Mont-St-Pierre, Mont-Louis, L’Anse Pleureuse, Gros Morne, Manche d’Épée, Madeleine Centre, Rivière-la-Madeleine, Grande-Vallée, Petite-Vallée

 

Day 9 June 20, 2003 (Petite-Vallée - Cap-aux-os)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:30 Stop: 1:20 Depart: 1:50	Pointe-Jaune N 49°03'966" W 64°30'360" GPS stopped tracking.	44.9 km	4:28	37 min	41.4k/h	10k/h
Stop: 5:45 Depart: 6:00	Cap-des-Rosiers N 48°51'388" W 64°12'063" (41FT) GPS stopped.	81.2 km	7:31	1:52	63.0k/h	10.8k/h
Arrive: 8:00	Cap-aux-Os N 48°49'688" W 64°18'208" (244FT)	86 km Recalculated from map: 105 km	8:00	2:04		10.7k/h

 

Path: Petite-Vallée, Pointe-à-la-Frégate, Cloridorme, St-Yvon, Grande-Étang, L’Anse-à-Valleau, St-Maurice-de-l’Échouerie, Rivière-au-Renard, L’Anse-au-Griffon, Jersey Cove, L’Anse-à-Louise, Cap-des-Rosiers, Cap-Bon-Ami, Cap-aux-os.

 

Day 10 – July 1, 2003 (Cap-aux-Os - Parc National Forillon)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
5:45	Cap-de-Gaspé N 48°45'070" W 64°09'668"	10.1 km	2:10	24 min	9.5k/h (bike)	4.6k/h
Arrive: 8:06	Camping Parc Forillon N 48°46'124" W 64°11'733"

 

Path: Cap-aux-Os, Cap-Bon-Ami, Parc National Forillon

 

Day 11 July 2, 2003 (Cap-Bon-Ami - Percé)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
9:30 Stop: 12:15 Depart: 12:25	From hostel Haldimand Robin tried to fix his tire.	GPS was off (Robin's data = 63 km)
Stop: 1:30 Depart: 1:45	Seal Cove N 48°44'584" W 64°19'730"	22 km	1:07	10 min	47k/h	21.1k/h
Arrive: 5:00	Percé N 46°31'464" W 64°12'688"	68.9 km (From Haldimand) Recalculated from map: 110 km	3:57	57 min	49k/h	17.4k/h

 

Path: Cap-Bon-Ami, Cap-aux-Os, Fontenelle, Gaspé, Douglastown, St-George-de-la-Malbaie, Pointe-St-Pierre, Belle-Anse, Coin du Banc, Percé

 

Day 12 July 3, 2003 (Percé - Hopetown)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:20 Stop: 9:30 Arrive: 11:00	Cap-d’Espoir N 47°01'330" W 70°28'842" Bike Store at Grande-Rivière	14 km	0:53	8 min	40.8k/h	16k/h
Stop: 11:20 Depart: 11:45	Halte Municipal N 48°23'120" W 64°32'149"
Stop: 2:30 Depart: 3:10	CLSC Gascons-Ouest N 48°11'604" W 64°51'868"	67.9 km	4:39	1:35	40.8k/h	14.6k/h
Arrive: 5:15	Hope Town N 48°02'903" W 65°10'051"	93 km	6:30	2:07	40.8k/h	14.3k/h

 

Path: Percé, L’Anse-à-Beaufils, Cap D’Espoir, Grande-Rivière, Pabos, Chandler, Pabos mills, Newport, L’Anse-aux-Gascons, Port Daniel, Shigawake, St-Godefroi, Hopetown

 

Day 13 July 4, 2003 (Hopetown - New Richmond)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:20 Arrive: 12:00	New Richmond N 48°10'292" W 65°52'472"	51 km	2:41	25 min	48.3k/h	18.9k/h
Depart: 1:15 Arrive: 3:00	Rivière Angers N 48°02'903" W 65°10'051"	76.9 km	4:27	2:09		17.2k/h
Depart: 3:30 Arrive: 4:25	Cascapedia River Museum
Depart: 5:00 Arrive: 5:30	B&B N 48°10'292" W 65°52'472"	97.2 km	5:39	2:29		17.2k/h

 

Path: Hopetown, Paspébiac, New Carlisle, Bonaventure, St-Siméon, Caplan, New Richmond, St-Jules (La Ferme, St-Jules, New Richmond)

 

Day 14 July 5, 2003 (New Richmond - Pointe-à-la Garde)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:00 Stop: 10:00 Depart: 10:30	Rivière Angers Sud N 48°14'534" W 66°02'411" (436FT)	26.7km	1:41	36 min	43.1k/h	15.7k/h
Stop: 10:30 Depart: 10:45	N 48°15'670" W 66°02'996"
Stop: 12:20 Depart: 1:00	Carleton N 48°06'097" W 66°07'321"	54.7 km	3:20	1:02	45.2k/h	15.6k/h
Stop: 4:25 Depart: 5:00	Escuminac N 48°08'224" W 67°09'107"	96.6 km	6:13	2:11		15.5k/h
Arrive: 5:51	Pointe-à-la-Garde N 48°05'553" W 66°31'210"	103 km	6:34	2:15		15.7k/h

 

Path: New Richmond, Maira, Carleton, St-Omer, Nouvelle, Miguasha, Escuminac, Pointe-à-la Garde

 

Day 15 July 6, 2003 (Pointe-à-la-Garde - Causapscal)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
9:20 Stop: 11:30 Depart: 11:55	Matapedia CLSC N 47°58'656" W 66°56'221"	37.2 km	2:09	11 min	40.7k/h	17.3k/h
Stop: 2:00	N 48°08'224" W 67°09'107"
Stop: 2:30 Depart: 3:00	Routhierville N 48°10'879" W 67°08'827" (297FT)	65.1 km	4:02	41 min		16.1k/h
Arrive: 4:50	Causapscal N 48°21'400" W 67°13'442" (507FT)	94.2 km	5:56	1:38		15.9k/h

 

Path: Pointe-à-la-Garde, Pointe-à-la-croix, Restigouche, Matapédia, Routhierville, Ste-Florence, Causapscal

 

Day 16 July 7, 2003 (Causapscal - Ste-Angèle-de-Mérici)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:15 Stop: 11:00 Depart: 12:05	Ruisseau Pearson N 48°31'235" W 67°21'657" (859FT)	32.3 km	2:47	59 min	45.7k/h	11.6k/h
Stop: 1:26 Depart: 1:40	Angers Bridge N 48°31'689" W 67°19'801" (900FT)
Stop: 2:00 Depart: 2:25	St-Tharcisius N 48°32'711" W 67°20'396"	43.1 km	4:07	1:44		10.4k/h
Stop: 5:00 Depart: 5:15	Sayabec N 48°33'978" W 67°41'397"
Arrive: 7:00	Sainte-Angèle-de-Mérici N 48°31'5748" W 68°04'996" (329FT)	120 km	8:02	2:47	54.4k/h	14.9k/h

 

Path: Causapscal, St-Benoit, Amqui, St-Tharcisius, Val-Brilliant, Sayabec, St-Moïse, Ste-Angèle-de-Mérici

 

Day 17 July 8, 2003 (Sainte-Angèle-de-Méricie - Parc québécois du Bic)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
8:25 Stop: 10:00 Depart: 10:25	Sainte-Luce N 47°01'330" W 70°28'842" (23FT)	29.8 km Heavy rain and wind. GPS shut off.	1:32		42.9k/h	19.3k/h
Stop: 10:55 Depart: 12:10	Pointe-au-Père (Museum of the Empress of Ireland)
Stop: 1:30 Depart: 1:50	End of Rimouski Trail (Sacré-Coeur) N 48°25'752" W 68°35'558"	55.5 km	3:15	13 min		17.1k/h
Arrive: 3:20	Parc québécois du Bic N 48°21'161" W 68°45'933" (119FT)	71 km	4:20	41 min (Hour at museum)		16.4k/h

 

Path: Sainte-Angèle-de-Méricie, Rimouski-Est, Parc québécois du Bic

 

Day 18 July 9, 2003 (Parc québécois du Bic – Rivière du Loup)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
10:50	Cap-à-l’Orignal N 48°22'123" W 68°48'464" (7FT)
Stop: 12:10 Depart: 12:25	Saint-Fabien N 47°01'330" W 70°28'842" (399FT)	12.7km	1:09	12 min	30.5k/h	11k/h
Stop: 2:20 Depart: 3:05	Trois-Pistoles N 48°07'400" W 69°32'135"
Arrive: 7:40	Rivière du Loup N 47°50'256" W 69°32'135"	106 km	7:29	1:28	44.4k/h	14.1k/h

 

 

Day 19 July 10, 2003 (Rivière-du-Loup, Saint-Jean Port-Joli)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
9:30 Stop: 11:00 Depart: 12:45	Saint-André-de-Kamouraska Halte Écologique des Battures N 47°38'576" W 69°45'461" (71FT)	28.4 km	1:28	10 min	38.3k/h	19.2k/h
Stop: 11:40 Depart: 12:25	Kamouraska N 47°33'996" W 69°51'936"
Stop: 2:30 Depart: 3:05	La Pocatière N 47°20'365" W 70°05'458"
Stop: 3:50 Depart: 4:15	Saint-Roch-Des-Aulnaies, Marché de Puces N 47°16'707" W 70°12'483"
Arrive: 4:40	St-Jean Port Joli N 47°12'994" W 70°16'122"	98.1 km	5:25	1:19		18.1k/h

 

Day 20 July 11, 2003 (Saint-Jean Port-Joli – Lévis)

 

Time	Location	Trip Odometer	Moving Time	Stopped	Max Speed	Moving Average
9:00 Stop: 9:05 Depart: 10:20	Est-Nord-Est Centre de Sculpture N 47°11'610" W 70°17'194"
Stop: 12:00 Depart: 12:10	Montmagny N 46°58'837" W 70°33'221"	36.6 km	1:42	1:27	36.8k/h	21.4k/h
Stop: 1:15 Depart: 1:35	Berthier sur Mer N 46°54'908" W 70°45'231"
Arrive: 3:55	Lévis N 46°48'898" W 71°11'133"	97.8 km	4:50	2:09	45.2k/h	20.2k/h