On Floria, grumbles about the rack

There was an intermittent pinging sound coming from Floria die Fledermoose's hindquarters this morning which I studiously ignored until a red light on Cavendish. Looking back, I was horrified to discover that the one of the pieces of metal between the rack and the seat stay had come adrift. Moreover, it was the sheet metal of the rack itself that had broken. The words "metal fatigue" probably cover the the reason. I rode the rest of the way to work grumbling that wasn't it a pity that there was no longer a Canadian Tire (or other such store) in the mall across from work where I might buy a few washers and put it all to right.

I debated whether I should head over after work to the MEC for a new rack, go to a hardware store instead of or before going to the gym. Fate intervened before I made a decision: on the way back from work the rack broke on the other side in the same place. I had to affix the milk crate and rack to my backpack in order to get them home.
The "slots" in the central piece of metal show where the braces were and the metal that broke off. The lower slot was the one that broke first. This was an MEC mountain rear cycling rack. In order to get a replacement quickly, I cannibalized the silver coloured MEC seatstay rear cycling rack from Leonardo. In the process, I noticed that the latter rack had sturdier attachment points than the former (which were sheet aluminum). Consequently, I think I will get a new MEC seatstay rear cycling rack for Leonardo in black, instead of a new MEC mountain rear cycling rack for die Fledermoose. The advantages being a sturdier rack and that a black rear rack on Leonardo will match its black front rack! Trivial: yes. But as both racks cost the same, why not have Leonardo colour coordinated?

On thick tires in the Laurentians

I owe my existence to the Laurentians: my maternal grandparents met skiing there, and later had a skiing honeymoon! Come to think of it, Aunt Lorna, my maternal grandmother's sister, met her husband skiing there and also had a skiing honeymoon.

A bit of my youth was spent skiing in the Laurentians, though not all that much. Some of the memories included my sister (aged ca. 18 months) walking around the house we had rented with the aforementioned grandparents with her feet in a pair of stainless steel dog bowls, much to the disappointment of Granny and Grandpa's Brittany spaniels who associated the noise with supper! Another was seeing Time Bandits quite late after coming back from the Laurentians.

These trips tapered off in the mid-eighties or so for various reasons. One of them might have been a badly timed trip at the end of February 1983. I know the date as there was an issue of some of the people sharing our accommodations going off to see the last episode of M*A*S*H.

Since about that time, I have never been in the Laurentians, at least, in the heart of the ski area.

Until this weekend.

On Saturday, I went in the Défi de Tremblant. The parents had been thinking of coming, but instead headed off to Newfoundland. Consequently, I went by myself in a rented car. Things got off to a shaky start when my alarm went off at 6:30 after a bad night's sleep. I had thought I had set the alarm for 5:30! Prevoyantly, I had everything more or less ready, including my duffel bag of gear leaning in front of the fridge in order make me remember the water bottles therein.

Driving up the Laurentian Autoroute, I was struck by how twisty it was. As well, the frequency of the hills made me nervous. The light, irregular rain was only a relative bother.

Owing to the situation with Canada Post, I hadn't received my kit, so once at the start (located at the Centre de villégiature Tremblant), I went to the information desk to see if they had it there. Neither my name nor those of my parents were on it. I could have sworn I had signed up. Anyway, something was worked out and I was issued with a bracelet and map.

While changing into my biking shoes and generally organising myself, I studied the map and the associated topographical curves. I decided on a 131 km option which warned of a 4 km un-asphalted section. I set off through the misty rain along an alarming amount of what seemed like down. Alarming, as I knew I would have to go up much of it at the end of the day when I would be tired! The disadvantage of starting these Défis at the bases of ski hills is that they are usually above the surrounding area and thus you have to go up at the end of the day. However, the topo curves weren't especially accurate yesterday, as a few tough hills didn't really show on the map and a couple of bits I thought would be tough, turned out to be a biker's dream.

Cyclists resting at the top of particularly steep hill

The upside of going up the hills, was that there were a few terrific (or possibly terrifying) "whee" (or possibly "aiee") moments. A case in point was one hill a little after the above photograph where I my "whee"-ing turned to "aiee"-ing when I realised that there was a distinct "Quebec speed bump" at the bottom of the hill. (Distinct culture and distinct roads). I didn't have a mishap, but I bless the Mavic wheels on Leonardo as when I checked my bike computer, I discover that I had hit 68.1 km/h! That is the third highest speed I have clocked.

Québec used to have some thoroughly eccentric first names. Owning to a much reduced birth rate and other factors, many of these colourful names are now only seen in old signs, such as the name of the bridge above.
The skies were mostly grey with moisture falling frequently. Although, it wasn't a hard rain mostly, it was a moist rain. I spent a certain amount of time wiping sweat from my brow and rain and condensation from my glasses. I also had trouble finding the optimum shirt switching between a Lycra jersey (above) and a merino one (see below). Eventually, I decided on sticking to the merino. At lunch time, I realised that I would get better ventilation from my helmet if I took off the headlight mount (note above).

While the map warned the optional bit I had decided upon warned of unpaved sections, it didn't mention several shorter unpaved bits on the regular route between Amherst/Saint-Rémi-d'Amherst and Huberdeau. If my memory isn't too far off, my impression is that it added up to more than 4 km! These Défis appeal heavily to the Lycra/spandex racing bike crowd. I passed a few of them on the dirt sections with a certain smugness as I didn't have a problem with the surface owning to my 700x32 tires! One of the racer types looked very irritated.

At lunch, I chatted with someone who had been surprised that the break was at 80 km along the route. As I had only done 57 km, I surmised that he must have taken an optional bit that added 25 km. It turned out that he didn't have a map on him and that he had been following some other people who looked like they knew where they were going. He wanted to know what was the fastest way back to the start. I showed him on my map where to go.

Bicycle traffic dropped off after I headed off on my optional loop. I almost felt worried as the frequency of Défi signs dropped off. But I persevered, traveling along besides farms, lakes and cottages. Shortly before I hit the unpaved section, I was passed by a couple of racers. However once on the dirt, I was more of less keeping them in sight. Just after the dirt, they stopped at a dépanneur in Arundel where I chatted with them. From their grumbling, I could tell they'd had a tricky time on their narrow tires. I had barely noticed the difference on mine.

After Arundel, the route went past the village of Barkmere on Lac aux Écorces which shows the combination of English settlement and nationalistic Québécois renaming. After another tough hill, the route came to a well made provincial highway. Either there was a slight down slope, or a trailing wind, but I seemed to settle into warp drive cruise mode, zooming along in the high 20s, low 30s. It was glorious. However, it came to an end when the route veered off onto a side road that went through a covered bridge.

(Note the merino jersey and the lack of headlight mount)

In Saint-Jovite, there was a rather...interesting sign in front of one house.
After passing the remains of the Gray Rocks Inn, I finished at around 4 o'clock, having ridden for 5 hours, 34 minutes and 2 seconds, over a distance of 130.36 km, at an average speed of 23.4 km/h, (max 68.1), and with the expenditure of a nominal 2398.8 calories. (The latter statistic is a joke as the bike computer doesn't take into account weight, rolling resistance, hills and countless other factors.) I wasn't looking forward to the drive home on account of fatigue and like factors. I had made up my mind to let myself recover a bit at the car before heading back to Montreal. I even pondered spending the night in the Laurentians.

In this light, I was rather glad that my parents weren't along for the ride, as generally I find them very determined to return home as quickly as possible. They probably wouldn't have gone as far as me yesterday (owing to weather and terrain) and thus would have likely finished earlier. Combined with the atmosphere at the departure/finish site, they would have been itching to leave, whereas I wanted to catch my breath a bit first. Among other things, I wanted to shower as the humidity was nearly 100% and I sweat a fair bit at the best of times! I inquired at the information desk where I mind find said shower. I was directed to go into the Tremblant "village" to a certain spa/aqua park. Arming myself with my clean clothes and shampoo, I wandered into the un-themed theme park known as the Centre de villégiature Tremblant.
My parents would have loathed it, my father especially with his aesthetic penchant. It was surprisingly crass and remarkably scattered in direction. As example, I ask you to consider this purveyor of food.
Red and black check and a name with an apostrophe (where is the OLF?!) says anglo. Poutine, says "Québécois, ben raide". This is the first time I have seen the word "poutinerie". I could go on, but my overall reaction is WTF?
The weirdness of the place is partly cultural as the resort is appealing to a market from outside Quebec, as indicated by the above ad for Porter Airlines. The fact that it is Porter, not Air Canada also tells me that the place is looking at the "executive" market rather then the great unwashed.

After washing in the shower, I headed back to the car where I made a brief effort to nap, before heading home. Thoughts of staying in the area over night were cast off by the resortiness of the area and the fact that I brought neither my contact lens case nor a book. I did stop for supper just outside of St-Jovite, as it was going to be a longish drive and I knew that the traditional Chalet-Bar-B-Q was shut for repairs after a fire a week or so ago.

I found the overall experience a bit weird as while the Laurentians have been in the background for much of my life, about the only thing I recognized was "La porte du Nord" which used to a restaurant Granny liked. The location and name is now a combination of tourist information and fast food chains (McD's, Timmys and St-Hubert). Otherwise, I was mentally adrift as only a few names were familiar to me. The landscape certainly wasn't. This is somewhat significant as I justly pride myself in having a very good mental map. Yet, somehow this area wasn't registering. It might be that this was the first time I had seen the area in summer. When I spoke to my mother about the day, she commented that she didn't know most of the places I spoke of, so it was likely that the Défi avoid the "skiing" parts of the Laurentians.

I also find it interesting how many of the villages I past through had "anglo" names (Arundel, Weir, Barkmere) rather than "Québécois" names (Sainte-Jovite, Conception, etc.) . The names suggest that the colonisation of the Laurentians wasn't as "pure laine" as is commonly thought.

On the racetrack, speeding

The Gilles Villeneuve Formula 1 racetrack is a "road course". This is more than a little ridiculous as it has nothing to do with the actual road network of the Greater Montreal area. Cars are allowed to drive on it, but they don't really go anywhere. As well, the speed limit is only 30 km/h.

Cyclists, rollerbladers and pedestrians are also allowed access (assuming there isn't a race on) as it is part of both the Route Verte and the Trans-Canada Trail. The latter bit is particularly weird when you think about it. As the track is carefully resurfaced every year or so, on account of the F1 races, cyclists, especially road racer types, use it as it is relatively free from traffic, the surface is superb and there is relatively little in the way of hills. You get all kinds from kids learning to ride to serious spandex types, with a relative bias towards the spandex crowd trying to get their cadences up. (Guilty.) Evidently there had been a bit of trouble at one point regarding them, as Vélo-Québec reported that they had negotiated with the authorities to have them stop applying the speed limit (30 km/h) to bikers.

Anyway, I took Leonardo out for a jaunt today that took to in the Gilles Villeneuve. In order to get a good workout in, I pedalled rapidly around the circuit for more than half an hour, breaking the speed limit fairly often. As it was a very nice day, it wasn't that hard. Much nicer than it was the previous Sunday when they were holding the F1 race!

On the circuit, bikes are directed down pit lane, at the end of which were three middle-aged women with digital SLRs taking pictures of the passing cyclists. On my last circuit, I stopped to ask them why they were doing so. Apparently, they were practicing their camera skills. Rather disappointing really! I had thought of much more interesting and flattering theories.

After zooming around the Gilles Villeneuve and seeing nary a sign of its well-known rodent, the legendary, if often short-lived, Marmota monax urbinova suicidius or kamikaze woodchuck, I went along the strip of land that divides the St-Lawrence Seaway from the river itself. I did this a while back, only today the weather was nicer if buggier.

I came back via the shoreline bike path, only to be halted at the St-Lambert locks as they were in use. There was an electronic sign which said that it would be 40 minutes or so before the bridge would be lowered. However, there was someone there who said that as it was opening for pleasure traffic, it would only be 20 minutes or so. When asked how he knew this, he replied that as he had to use this route to get to work, he made a point of checking out the Seaway website to see when large ships were due through the locks!

As I had come over via the Pont de la Concorde, I went back over the ice breaker bridge. (On the way over the Pont de la Concorde, I had the idea that maybe a partial remedy to Montreal's bridge problem would be to extend the Pont de la Concorde over the Seaway via a drawbridge.) As I rode over the ice breaker bridge, I chatted with the guy who knew the schedule of large ships for a bit.

All in all, it has been a pretty good day.

On the difference between landscapes in dreams and reality

In a Skype conversation with Margo and Chris a few days ago, I discovered that they are thinking of starting their Atlantic Canada bike trek in Moncton rather than Deer Lake. They wished to know how long I had taken to get from Moncton to Deer Lake a few years ago. I was able to send them an Excel file of my odometer readings from that trip.

While checking the file before sending it off, I noticed that my distances were fairly short on the whole, in fact much shorter than I remembered. Looking back, I was loafing along at a certain level partly as there were things I wanted to see, partly as I was approaching distances fairly conservatively and partly because I was traveling "bed to bed" meaning I was always stopping at a place where I was sure of getting a bed. Given the layout of Atlantic Canada, this more or less predetermined the length of each day.

Margo and Chris will be much less affected by this given their ability to camp. I wonder if this means my information will be of less use to them in the Maritime provinces compared to Newfoundland. In the latter province, the distances were much higher on average owing to the lesser density of the population and things to stop and see.

I offered to snail mail them the road maps I had torn out of the Atlantic Canada Back Road Atlas and waterproofed. They asked me to wait until they had a better idea about whether they will do this. Nonetheless, I have been thinking about both their potential trip and the trip I made back in 2008.

For this reason, as I lay in bed this morning only partly awake, I was thinking about what information I could provide them. (I am a librarian, after all: the desire to deliver information is a hallmark of my profession.) This morphed into thinking about the landscape of Newfoundland. As I was only partially awake, the "Newfoundland" landscape was that from an old dream. It was smoother, much more "yuppified" and quaint, fewer trees and somehow...much more remote, much further away from anywhere. As if it were on the distant edge of the World. I couldn't figure out which airports I would be using, nor could I even remember their names!

Then I woke up a bit more and everything snapped into reality: Deer Lake, Gander (whose airport I will not be using on this trip) and St. John's. As well, the memory of the actual landscape of Newfoundland (rugged, but relatively low hills, trees, and indifferent, "blue-collar" architecture) came vividly to mind. As well, as I have been to Newfoundland twice in the last few years, it seemed very much nearer and "realer".

Dreams are funny things. Yet I wasn't quite dreaming this morning, I was half-awake, or possibly only a third awake before I moved into two-thirds awake when stark clarity hit!

On a revised map of my forthcoming trip to Newfoundland

Prodded by Margo's reference to my upcoming trip in Newfoundland in her recent blog posting, I edited the map of the potential routes I might take. To wit, I added the Trailway portion from Howley to Badger in purple. Not a big change, but what the hey?


View Biking from Deer Lake to St. John's in a larger map

(For the record, blue means by road, red by boat, and purple by bike path.)

On the route of this year's Eastern Townships' Challenge

I was poking around Vélo-Québec's website for more information about the Tremblant Challenge (such as what day it is!), when I decided to look at the route of this year's Eastern Township Challenge. I was was in for quite a surprise on the whole.

As in several previous years, the challenge starts at Mount Orford. From there, it goes through Magog (possibly a bad idea, but I'm not the one making the route) and heads down the Eastern shore of Lake Memphremagog to Fitch Bay, then turns inland to Ayer's Cliff, then up the 143, down Sherbrooke road into North Hatley and back to Magog via Katevale, fortunately, down the infamous Katevale hill. Side excursions go to Standstead, Hatley, Compton and Waterville.

What intrigues me about this route is that with a few exceptions I know all the roads in question, having grown up in North Hatley. Of the many Vélo-Québec Challenges or Défis I have been on, none have been in quite so familiar terrain. This will likely significantly change the nature of the experience as one aspect of these events is the discovery of new places and landscapes. This time, my parents and I will know parts of the route down to the last pothole! There will be less discovery for us on this one.

As well, I already have some reservations about some of the route choices made by Vélo-Québec. The extended bit on the 143 being the most notable! I also wonder whether the extended versions will incorporate not one but two segments of the former Massawippi Valley Railway now converted into bike paths.

All in all, it should be interesting but in a different way than usual.