On my day

Today has been fun. My hosts in Dyer's Bay are great.  But I don't have the time for a long entry. Weather is fine, sunny and cool.

On my water bottles

I was admiring the view from Ten-Mile Point (briefly the site of a Jesuit mission in the mid Seventeenth Century) when a middle-aged couple emerged from their bike laden car, noticed Leonardo leaning against a wall fully laden and commented on the number of water bottles (3). Apparently, the husband had hydration issues. I explained one was for electrolytes (e.g. Gatorade) and the other two were for just water, the one on the bottom cage being a reserve. In truth, I don't think I really need the reserve from this point but, I think I will keep it full until Guelph and the last of the 100+ km days. In fact, I hadn't given it much thought until writing this entry!

On random gusts

While waiting for a table at the Anchor Inn yesterday, I had a pint in the bar. I chanced to hear the words Schraeder and Presta being used in conversation. These being words associated with bike inner tubes, I quickly deduced the speakers were fellow cyclists. One of them sat down on the next stool. I asked him if he was part of the Trans-Canada tour. He wasn't. He and his friend had been touring the Island for the last six days. He was from Montreal. He asked me if I was the solo cyclist from Boston people had been talking about! Apparently they get a wodge of cyclists through these parts.

This morning, I moseyed along the waterfront of Little Current surveying the collection which stocked a highly eclectic selection of goods which mildly perplexed me. One sold elegant sweaters, fabric by the yards, fishing tackle, navigation charts (it claimed to be Canada's oldest chart store) and had a small museum in one room which included an account of FDR's fishing trip to the area in 1943.  While on the waterfront I watched a sailboat come in accompanied by a chorus of yips from small unseen dogs.

I set off at a leisurely pace South along Highway 6 which lacked a paved shoulder for the first dozen kilometers or so. I saw a bunch of German geology students tapping rocks at the side of the road. I had encountered a subset of them yesterday. I am not sure what they are in aid of. Opposite them was the Sequanah (I will revise the spelling later) Museum. Like the many such community museums in these parts, it was more about artifacts than history, the bulk of the collection being late 19th century to early 20th century items with the inevitable army uniforms. This particular museum also had a section on an archaeological site thought to date to about 9500 years Before Present, though I have a nagging suspicion that the archaeologist who worked with Pappy on the Fisher Site had determined it wasn't quite that old.

The museum also had the remains of a Beech Staggerwing float plane that had caught fire and sank while delivering dispatches to FDR. A later newspaper article described the heroic actions of a US Navy Lieutenant from the USS Wolverine. The latter amused me as it was formerly a paddle wheel lake steamer which had been given a flight deck so it could be used as a training aircraft carrier in the safety of Lake Michigan.

Today has been sunny but cool. The wind has been quite strong and gusty though generally with a Westerly component. One of my options for today had been to ditch the bulk of my clobber at my motel in Manitowaning and go to visit a nearby uncedeeded First Nation. However given the unpredictable habits of the wind and a slightly sore posterior, I wimped out and the only side trip I made was a paltry 2 kms to look upon Lake Manitou, the largest lake in a lake in the world. The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting the town museum, pondering the S.S. Norisle (possibly a sister ship to the Norgoma) and dozing in my motel room.

I writing this in a restaurant with its radio tuned to Moose FM which seems to play a lot of 80s music such as "Tainted Love" and "The summer of '69". There is a large, mostly francophone family group causing a certain amount of chaos, partly from a distinct failure to listen by many of them. ;-) It is a bit of a shock to the system to hear French again. I am drinking Swing Bridge Ale, Manitoulin's first beer of the microbrewery era.

Tomorrow will mark a change as I leave Northern Ontario and motels for Southern Ontario and the homes of cousins! ;-)

On top of the swing bridge at Little Current

One of my most stressful biking experiences was crossing the Fraser River at Mission. Therefore, I approached the single lane swing bridge to Manitoulin Island with some trepidation partly as it was the end of a relatively tough day. I didn't take the end of the first green light and instead stopped to put on my high-visibility vest while the light was red. This put me at the front of line for the next green light. I wasn't wild about this but the SUV after me was clearly ready to let me go at my own pace. This was very nice of him. As it turned out, there was a walkway for pedestrians which I nipped into to walk the bike across. As well, the bridge has a 20 km/h speed limit that I am quite capable of breaking. However, I only found that out later. The mainland half of the pedestrian walkway doesn't get much use judging by the cobwebs suggesting people don't walk it that often.

The bridge swings open on the hour and as it was nearing that time, I parked Leonardo and leaned against a railing to watch the event. A man drove up in a pickup to the parking area where I was and got out in a hurry. He asked me if I wanted to see the operation from the control room atop the bridge! I said "Yes, please!" and grabbed my handlebar bag and hurried after him. We walked halfway across the bridge, crossed the roadway and went up a steep staircase to the control room.

The control room was an interesting mixture of technologies. The controls looked fairly modern. In addition there was a video monitor showing any of a number of parts of the bridge deemed critical for safe operation.  Ron Lewis, the operator, explained that after making sure all traffic was off the bridge, it was necessary to unlock the bridge extremity supports before actually swinging the bridge. He flipped through the video feeds to show me the mechanisms at work. Regrettably, I was a shade too excited to remember the minutiae well enough to relate. If my memory serves, two or three sailboats went through along with a large motor cruiser (or "gin palace" to John Mact.).  One sailboat missed the swing. Ron explained to me that the bridge can only be taken out of road use for 15 minutes out of an hour. As the swinging procedure takes about 6 minutes each way, there is only a window of about 90 seconds or so for tall vessels to pass. Apparently, the electric motors that were installed about fifteen years ago are somewhat slower than the twin car engines that used to power it!

After thanking Ron, I left floating on air. I was thinking about how much I would have enjoyed the experience the only other time I was in Little Current. That was in 1977, when my brothers and I were taken on a sailing cruise by Pappy and Granny and Grandpa Mact.. Back in those days, there were still train tracks on the bridge, though their days were numbered.

The day began with some more of the T-Can. At Massey, I took a chance on an apparent shortcut to Espanola on the Lee Valley. I told myself that there would be no shame in turning back or opting out if it became too hard. More fool I, as aside from two short bits of hard packed gravel, the whole way was paved (albeit a shade roughly), flat, quiet apart from the odd car and included some shady bits. Midway, I relaxed when I saw a guy on a narrow tired road bike going the other way. In fact, the only "problem" with the route was in Espanola itself where a section was being redone and was at the loosely-packed gravel stage. As there was a useful alternative handy, I didn't even try it. (In Little Current, I was to learn that the Lee Valley Road is a recommended cycling route!)

I had an early lunch in Espanola, before hitting Highway 6. This proved to be a long series of hills and dips with little apparent logic to it. The only good as far as I was concerned was the wide shoulder. There was a light headwind and it was quite hot. Shortly before Whitefish Falls, there was a longish downhill.  I was feeling a bit drained, especially as I had only come about a third of the distance from Espanola. I was sufficient hot that I went into the town in search cold water. The store seemed very closed as in "gone out of business", so went into the Red Dog Grill. If I had to do this over again, I'd have lunch there as it was a nice friendly place where not only the waitress but also some locals having lunch comforted me with the news that I was all but done with the hills! I left well provided and refreshed with ice water. I am getting addicted to the stuff.

The remaining 30 clicks went by fairly smoothly. First the Whitefish River First Nation, then the desolate feeling Greater La Cloche Island. Then came the bridge.

After settling into my motel and a shower, I went to Tourist Information to find out where the Laundromat was. (Tomorrow is a rest day so I think getting a few things thoroughly clean is a permissible indulgence.) Coming back, I chanced upon a Spandex-looking cyclist on a road bike waiting by the side of the road, I asked him how far he had ridden today. He was deeply tanned and grey-haired. It turned he had come from Blind River and was part of a supported Trans-Canada bike trip! They had started on the 18th June which means they have made pretty good time on their carbon fibre bikes. He was from Georgetown, Texas. It later came out that his group was the reason I could get a room in my first choice of accommodation in Little Current.

A very good day, especially as I beat the rain to Little Current!

On the Trans-Canada and in the heat

Thus far, the Trans-Canada has proven better than feared as the forest is cut back far enough that I have little fear keeping to the edge of the paved shoulder which more often than not fairly narrow with a wide gravel shoulder. Some sections have wide paved shoulders.

The weather has been very hot for this neck of the woods though, thankfully for me, not very humid. On the other hand, the fire danger signs are at extreme, so I only hope the thunder storms expected tomorrow don't spark a forest fire.

Today went fairly smoothly. I stopped at a round barn just outside of Thessalon which sold nick-knacks and Amish jam. The latter makes me suspect that the buggy drivers might be Amish. I rode beside a river as I neared Blind River thinking I was beside the Blind River. In Blind River, I discovered it was the Mississagi River. (My maps aren't great on rivers and lakes.)

After an early lunch in Blind River, I rode on to Algoma Mills where I took Highway 538. It parallelled the T-Can for 5 km and made an interesting and shadier change of pace. Somewhere in the Serpent River First Nation, I was climbing a hill where the road had been cut into a hill to the North of the Highway. I was hit with a blast of radiating heat from the rock face that caused me to have to stop to catch my breath.  When I came upon a gas station in the reserve, I made a beeline for its ice cream cooler!

A good day on the whole.

On wanting to pay back the Universe

After breakfast of scrambled eggs, I bid farewell to Wayne, Gregory and Nancy. The weather forecast was for high temperatures (low 30s), sunny skies but low humidity. However, it was pleasantly cool as I set off a little after 8 with patches of mist hither and yon.

At first I rode along Highway 17B, a.k.a. an old bit of the Trans-Canada now bypassed by newer bit. In other words, the type of road that cyclists like! It took my through the Garden River First Nation which is the proud home place of Jordan Nolan, a player for the L.A. Kings. At Echo Bay, I was greeted by the sight of a giant Loonie designed by the same person who designed the Loonie who hails from there.

The old T-Can joined up with the new and much to my surprise took me through farms with big bales of hay in the fields and signs saying beware of horse and buggies! It seems this is home to one (or more) of the austere sects such as the Hutterites, Mennonites or Amish. I could google it but I am feeling lazy. I saw one arriving at a gas station by horse drawn buggy looking like extras from Little House on the Prairie complete with bonnets and heavy looking, dark clothes which looked very hot in the increasing heat. I had the feeling that some of them were about to get on a bus to go somewhere.

I was making very good time to the point where I made several stops to avoid arriving too early! One of these was at S&S Creations (sandscreations.ca). I had seen one of their billboards announcing they did work in stained glass and "puddingstone". The later was an unknown to me which given that I am the son of a geologist and widely if not deeply knowledgeable means this was something either rare or invented ;-) I went in to ask which. One of the S's (Stephanie) had evidently heard the question before and explained it was a locally occurring conglomerate containing red and brown lumps of jasper in paler sediments. What she and Steve (the other S) did was to slice the stone very thinly so as to be translucent and use them as an element in an otherwise conventional stained glass creation. Thankfully, I was on a bike and therefore had an excuse not to buy anything as they were quite special. Doubtless, the aforementioned geologist knows about puddingstone.

I got to Bruce Mines a bit after 11. I went down to the marina where I enjoyed the cool breeze blowing off Lake Huron. There were some picnic tables in the shade so I lay down on one to watch a flock of Canada geese.  After lunch in Bruce Mines, I visited their museum of bric-a-brac which included a one-armed bandit out of Lucky Luke and an old Raleigh bicycle with a novel braking system. The front brake pads pushed against the inner surface of the rim which looked dangeously close to the spokes.

The Carolyn Beach Motel is located at Western edge of Thessalon near the junction of Highway 17 and 17B. The motel looked like it had been there about as long as the T-Can. (I  later found the first bit of it was open in 1959 on the site of a former saw mill.  Further buildings were added in 1961, 1964 and 1975.)  However, I had a hankering for ice cream so I went downtown where I bought some a girl in an ice cream store who looked about twelve.

Afterwards, I rode back to the motel checked in, before having a dip in Lake Huron followed by a warm shower. I was about wash my clothes when I discovered I hadn't packed my Campsuds (general purpose biodegradable soap). I decided to ride back to downtown Thessalon to get a substitute. After four stores of different natures, the best I could come up with was a liter bottle of detergent for baby clothes. I rode back to wash my gear and hang the clothes on Leonardo. I then consulted my maps to see what tomorrow would bring. After a while, I was curious as to how far I had ridden today so I went to get my bike computer. It wasn't to be found in my room or on Leonardo. I decided it must have off between downtown and the motel. I set off on Leonardo on the wrong side of the road scanning for the little black oblong. Less than 100 meters up the road, I found it nestled in the soft sand shoulder, perfectly intact!  Feeling I owed one to the universe, I tried to find out the name of a local charity from the manager. Unfortunately, he proved to be a South Asian new to the area and hadn't much of an idea. It didn't help that I must have seemed like a madman.

I will donate $100.00 (CAD) to the first charity I come across or have suggested to me. That I how relieved I am.

On a warm welcome in the Soo

I was met at YAM airport by Wayne, Greg's father and we drove to their house where I met Nancy, Greg's mother and Mitsui, a Japanese exchange student. They made me feel at home and fed me lasagna.

This morning, after a breakfast of pancakes and bacon, I assembled Leonardo in the garage and to him for a spin to check nothing was amiss. Aside from a couple of very minor adjustments, nothing was.  After Wayne and I put my duffel on the bus, I rode into downtown for some sightseeing. First a historic site with two buildings both over two hundred years old. Then I went to a canal related historic site. After a late lunch, I visited the Norgoma, the packet steamer on the Great Lakes. It had served the small communities on the North Shore of Lake Huron until 1963 when the Trans-Canada Highway made it redundant.  It had a second career as a car ferry between Manitolin Island and the Bruce Peninsula before being retired. While I was on board, I saw the Indiana Harbor, a thousand foot long lake "boat" sail down St Mary's River. I then took in the Bush Plane museum again.

A good day. Tomorrow looks like it will fairly hot but the forecast has the wind coming from a favourable direction.

Wayne is a retired employee from Bell. He has worked all over Northern Ontario and has been a font of knowledge. When I revealed that I was going to Thessalon tomorrow, he correctly guessed the name of the motel I will staying at! (The Carolyn Beach Motel)

On Thierry's principle (and T.O.) revisited

The last time I was in T.O., I managed to rectify a Thierry's principle oversight (i.e. you only relax once you remember what it is you have forgotten). Back in September, I went to MEC to get a replacement fleece jacket. In the process, I got a bike map of Toronto that adorned my dining room wall for the last ten months and unfortunately currently adorns it. I had meant to bring it with me on the final leg of AMUAM JuNITO. Fortunately, on my Porter flight from YUL to YTZ, I realized that I had A. forgotten it and B. I should have enough time to get another on before my flight to YAM (a.k.a. the Soo). By dint of asking at the Billy Bishop help desk, I found out that I had indeed the time and that there was a shuttle bus to Union Station where the tourist office was. I took the ferry to the mainland hopped on the shuttle bus and away I went. I found the information office where I had got the original map, scored another then caught the bus back.

On the bus, I pondered how one could build a tunnel to avoid the short ferry ride to the airport. One thought was do much of the work during the winter to avoid annoying shipping and boaters.  As I got to the waiting room for the ferry, I saw an illuminated sign counting down the four days and 23 hours before the tunnel would be inaugurated!

On an unusual exchange with a B&B

What with the presence of my parents on the Toronto to Montreal leg of my next bike trip, I have already started booking places to stay. Indeed, I have made something of a record for myself as currently no less than ten nights will be spent staying with relatives near and distant or friends, with another two in doubt. Of the remaining, I have booked a number of motels and B&Bs.  During a phone call to one B&B in Brockville, I was asked if we had any dietary requirements. I replied: "Well, we're cycling, so we would appreciate a substantial breakfast." The man laughed and said that he often got cyclists and he would be happy to include plenty of carbs! ;-)

On the Spring's Challenges

Yes, I know I haven't been writing much what with one thing and another. On the other hand, Mummy has written about her takes on the first two Vélo-Québec Challenges (or Défis) of the year as well as the Tour de l'Île which I will include in this entry along with my take.


Défi Métropolitain
Regarding the Metropolitan Challenge (Défi Métropolitain), I found it not atypical of what I think of as the the Chateauguay circuit. While the precise layout changes, this is the third time I have done a Challenge starting in Chateauguay, the first one being the first one I ever did.  The route landscape is very flat and open which makes it prey adverse winds. The forecast had been for light winds, but unfortunately, there were some stiff headwinds on the outward leg. To add insult to injury, the winds proved relatively fickle later in the day, so I didn't get "my deposit back" on the homeward leg. Otherwise the weather was decent with only a little rain.  Unfortunately, as I set out, I discovered my rear tire was flat. This meant a quick inner tube change and a trip to a handy Wal-Mart for a new spare. I have been having bad luck with my rear wheel of late.

Mummy's take:

We had a party at Naisi’s on the Saturday night. Should we go into Daniel’s on Saturday, quite late, or leave early Sunday morning?  In the end we opted for early Sunday, which meant Daniel had to rent a car, but that seemed easier for him than tidying his condo for us! 

After having been rude to Daniel about his often being late, he was early and we were a minute late at the Tutti Frutti in Chateauguay. 

We had done practically no biking before this excursion, what with the trip to BC and other things, so we were a bit concerned about not being in shape.  But then it is always an effort, and we always get there.

We started biking at 8:15.  We 100 km people went anti clockwise, the 75 and 150 km people went clockwise.  Léry (it seems to me we always called it Ville de Léry) had some interesting houses.  And some that were awful.  It started to sprinkle.  I stopped to put on my jacket and said to a man doing the same, that as we were putting on our jackets, it was bound to stop raining.  I trusted the other bikers would be grateful to us. 

Lots of lovely lilac out.  Three trees at one farm were sadly downwind of a pig farm.  But often there was a lovely smell, oh yes, there are the lilacs.  There was a strong wind against us until we got to Ormstown.  My average at that point was 15 km/hr.  Ormstown was a very pretty town, with lots of old buildings.  I stopped in front of the church to take off my jacket and put on sunscreen.  Then we turned and went with the wind behind to Howick.  It was easy to do 30 km/hr.  We got to Howick and lunch just at noon.  By then my average was 17 km/hr.

I sent a text to Daniel.  A bit later I got one from him, ‘Where are you?’  ‘Under the white tent.’  So he was able to join us, which was very nice.  Poor him, the tire he had just replaced had a flat.  He changed the tube, then went to Walmart, which was right there, to get a spare.  I had been surprised that he wasn’t at lunch before us, as he had 70 km to go and we had done 60.  But that explained it.

The afternoon, although mostly downwind, had quite a bit of side wind, and almost headwind, so it wasn’t all easy.  Hugh and I had decided to skip one little bit up and back a river.  I was there first and waited quite a bit, a bit down the short-cut, so I wasn’t going to confuse people, until I saw Hugh come by.  He slowed, so I thought he was going to turn, but then he went by.  I would not have been able to catch him, so I biked on.  Then I thought of phoning him.  He answered very quickly, knew he had missed it, but it was not easy to communicate.  I biked on, till I stopped to rest and eat and drink on the church steps in Mercier.  I called him again, and he was just coming into Mercier, so I waited and he caught up. 

Last bit together.  The very last bit was beside a highway, hot, lots of cars, into the wind, tired, tough!  Finished 3:30.  Daniel showed up soon after.  He had to get his rented car back by 5 pm, so he couldn’t hang around much.  He and Hugh picked up t-shirts.  I have enough.  Chocolate milk and an apple.  Bathroom.  Find cars, change, and off home. 

Hugh drove, I dozed.  Baths, PJs for me, bagel and smoked salmon.  Asleep before 9 pm.

My statistics:  98.89 km, time 5:42, average 17.3 km/hr

Daniel: 123? km, average over 20

I noticed a few men who might have been over 70, but I didn’t notice any women my age.  I did pass a few rather plump young women.

Daniel suggests I negotiate to borrow a road bike from Laurent to see if I like it.  But a new bike for a few excursions a year seems extravagant.  I thought this bike would be my last bike.

Tired but pleased on Monday morning.

Tour de l'Île

Last year, I found the Long version of the Tour de l'Île took me through too many bits that I had already done and those bits weren't the most interesting.  Consequently, this year I opted to be a volunteer again as a "Bénévélo méchano" i.e. a volunteer bike mechanic riding with the crowd. As I don't have the training to be an "encadreur", this meant I was dealing with the 50 km version of the event. As the Parents were going to do the 100 km version, they left my flat a little before me. However, I caught up with them after a few street corners whilst they were putting on their rain gear.  We rode to the start on Parc Avenue where I left them to collect my volunteer gear and meet up with the rest of my group of volunteers.  One of these was JP, the friend who got me into the volunteering gig.  We collected the relevant bits, then as our start time was only in an hour or more, he invited me back to his nearby apartment for breakfast and to collect his nephew who would be riding with us. At least in theory.

In practice, it didn't happen. When we got to the start, I took out my big bike pump and walked up and down the line of waiting cyclists trolling for customers as inflating tires is the most common thing we do.  A little before the time to start came, I was asked to replace an inner tube on someone's mountain bike. After taking the old inner tube out I noticed there seemed to be a bit of sand inside the tire. As the guy said he'd had several flats of late, I thought I would make sure all the sand was out of the tire in case that was the issue. It wasn't as I soon and painfully found out. There was a sharp nail in the tire which cut my finger quite badly. That together with the fact that I have rarely changed 26" tires made the operation fairly lengthy.  Once he was on his way, I sought out a first aid volunteer to get a band aid for my cut.  By this time, our team's departure time had come, so JP and his nephew headed off, hoping I would catch up. Unfortunately, I never did.

In an underpass, I saw a water bottle fall off someone's bike and two other water bottles lying treacherously on the ground. I picked up all three and gave one of them back to its owner. The surface of the road was quite potholed and combined with the speed of the downhill, the water bottles had been jarred lose.  Less than a kilometer later, I stopped to help someone deal with a rack that was rubbing against a wheel. There were a couple more tires in need of inflation before I got to Westmount. I was startled to learn that several méchanos didn't have bike pumps with them, something I found very surprising given how often they are needed. Also, they are prominent in the list of things to bring for méchanos.  Coming down the Glen into St-Henri, I was unsurprised to hear warnings about an accident up ahead. I have been using the Glen on a daily basis for years. Like many Montreal streets, it is in bad shape and a flash flood a few years back didn't do it any favours. In fairness, the City of Montreal did patch a few of the potholes prior to the Tour: you can no longer see the old street car rails. There I found another water bottle knocked loose by the combination of speed and rough surfaces.  At this point, I made a detour of a few blocks to my flat for pit stop and to dump the water bottles. As I was coming out, I saw my downstairs neighbour Jacques and his girlfriend about to set off on the Tour!

The route then took me under the Lachine canal and then along beside it. A kid of about 12 or so fell off his bike more or less in front of me.  I stopped and diverted traffic around him while his father picked him up and with the help of another volunteer got him to the sidewalk. I tried my best to remember what I should do in such an event. I settled on asking a few questions whilst looking up the stream of cyclists in the hopes that a first aid volunteer would show up. Another méchano commented that the boy looked a bit dazed, but the father assured him that was the kid's normal look!

I set off again and started chatting with a cyclist from Ottawa who commented he had forgotten how back Quebec roads were.  A little later, I "alerted" a parent towing a bicycle that he seemed to have lost the kid! ;-) In fact, the kid had got tired and had opted to ride in the bike trailer hauled by the other parent!  I saw several such "events".

Coming back along the ride, I helped some more people, changing inner tubes, inflating tires. I came across one older man who was sitting out a leg cramp. I flagged down a first aid volunteer for what good it did. Somewhere in Old Montreal, I was asked to oil someone's very rusted chain.  I did quick job but it really needed more attention than I was really about or supposed to give.

At the end, among the displays was a dump truck with mats around it.  The intent was to educate the people about the significant blind spots big truck have. The mats represented the places the driver couldn't see from the cab. Members of the public were invited to sit in the driver's seat and have a look. In practice, people were getting in the truck with their small children in order to have their picture taken!

Mummy writes:

The usual suspects [i.e. Joey, the Mole, the Parents and Daniel] were all doing different things at different times this year.  Hugh and me : 100 km starting between 7 and 7:30.  Daniel : bénévélo - mécano, meet at 7.  Joey and Michael – the 50 km, starting at 8:30 or later.  So there was no rendez-vous on the Charlevoix Bridge, nor breakfast together.

Hugh and I had breakfast at Daniel’s.  Daniel figured he’d get his instructions and then find breakfast.  In fact, he ran into the friend who had got him into volunteering and was invited to his place for breakfast.  We biked together to the start.  Ours was a bit on St Laurent, to get ahead of the polloi lining up for the 50 km

Saturday had been very hot and muggy.  So it was a surprise that Sunday was so cool, 8° at times.  We started as soon as we got there, at 7:20.  Raining a bit, I wore my rain pants for warmth, even when the rain stopped.  Goretex jacket the whole way.  My hands were cold at the start, but soon warmed up.  I could have used a buff around my ears.  So many different neighbourhoods!  Some horrible pretentious huge expensive new houses.  Some pretty old ones.  A few lilacs.  North up Parc Avenue, wiggle in Park Extension, TMR, Ville St Laurent, Cartierville, Dollard des Ormeaux, Ste Geneviève, Pierrefonds, Roxboro, Senneville (sheep!  MacDonald College?), Ste Anne de Bellevue (nice old narrow main street, oh, that’s where John Abbott Cégep and MacDonald College are!), Baie d’Urfé, Beaconsfield (How nice, Lakeshore Blvd is one way west, with the other half reserved for bikes and pedestrians.), Pointe Claire (nice old narrow main street), Dorval – lunch (provided by Vélo Québec, which is new) at last!  We’d done 75 km by then, although it was only 11:30.  I was hungry, although I had nibbled a bit.  Chilly, but we put on more clothes and ate outside.  We’d been passed by a couple on a tandem, with ‘Jane and Dave, Seattle, WA’ on the back.  I saw them as I was going in to the bathroom and chatted.  They had come partly for a week of bike festival, had been in ‘Un tour la nuit’ and said it was great.  Next year!  They found the tandem great for staying together and communicating.  They didn’t seem to have the troubles some have!

All day I heard quite a bit of English.  Anglos or Americans up for the event?  Some of each, I guess.

Leaving lunch, I saw that we were just opposite the Yacht Club.  I guess I was focused on lunch on the way in.  Just before lunch, we passed the Forest and Stream Club, which I remember my father being a member of.  Now that I’ve looked it up, I don’t think hunting and fishing play any part of its focus today.  It looks like a social club only.

Lachine, La Salle and into the closed roads, lots of people, last section of the tour.  In fact it seemed less dense than usual.  Daniel thinks it thins out the further you go.  Verdun, Pointe St Charles.  We stopped at Joey’s since we were going right past on Wellington.  Only Lucy at home.  Right past Michael’s house.  I had contemplated turning back to Daniel’s after the old port, but in the end I went to the finish.  It wasn’t even 2 pm.  Hugh turned to Daniel’s at Notre Dame St.  We didn’t go right to the old port, but we did go past Notre Dame Basilica, which was nice.  Just before it, a woman to my left called out a ‘merci’ to a volunteer on the right hand side walk.  As I was thinking, how nice, she and a man crashed into each other and landed on the sidewalk in a heap.  I couldn’t tell if she veered left because she was distracted, or was the man too close anyway on her left.  Whatever, it looked painful.  But I didn’t stop and get in the way.

Going up Berri, I thought of saying to the young woman beside me, ‘We can do it’.  But then she said it to me.  A father on my other side was encouraging his son, who looked a bit plump.  When we got to the top, I said, ‘Bravo pour nous tous!’

I moseyed a bit at the finish, got a chocolate milk, would have been glad to have a banana something that looked good, but the line was too long.  Started to Daniel’s and at the corner of Parc and Pine saw Jennifer Roberts biking towards me!  She was on her way home from a weekend in Sherbrooke and Magog.  She had left her bike at Lionel Groulx where she got her Amigo lift out.  And was relieved to find it still there on Sunday afternoon.  We chatted quite a while, then I suggested she join us for supper at Joey’s.

Back to Daniel’s, shower and rest.  Supper at Joey’s:  mushroom lasagna and fennel and apple salad by me, caesar salad and bread by Joey, cheese by Jennifer, tiramisu bought by Michael.

Joey had started out, got to the canal, and decided that it was no fun, spitting rain, cold, and she was alone.  I feel badly abandoning her to do our 100 km circuit.  I’m sure she wasn’t properly dressed.  Michael had done it all, until it went past his house. He wasn’t properly dressed either and was cold.  Daniel had had a good day, multiple tires pumped up, handlebar adjusted, man on crutches helped across the street, chain greased.

Denis Coderre, the mayor of Montreal, was featured in the media.  He had promised last year that he would participate this year.  He had trained, lost 45 pounds and did the 50 km tour with a bunch of his colleagues.  Good publicity for him, but also for a healthy life style and getting in shape, as well as making Montreal bike friendly.  The media says there were 25 000 participants.  I wonder how many on each version.  We were never crowded, just the right density.

I was less tired than last week.  All in all, a very good day, in spite of the weather.

My statistics:  111.97 km, average 17.5 km/hr

 

Défi de Lanaudière - Mauricie

For no reason(s) I can figure out, I acquired a pain around my tailbone which while it didn't prevent me from partaking in the Défi I was leery about pushing myself too hard. In addition, we were invited to a barbecue at James' afterwards. Consequently, I wasn't very ambitious.

The night before, the Parents and I watched a DVD of an episode of a francophone TV series about general stores in Québec. This one put the spotlight on LeBaron's store and featured interviews with Joey (the owner) and Mummy as well as other locals. In addition, there was a segment about North Hatley's popcorn cart which featured two little girls in Dreamland park getting popcorn, one of whom was Désirée!  In my opinion, the episode featured too much about the various antiques on display in the store and not enough about the incredible selection of stuff available in the store, the efforts Joey puts into getting said exotic stuff and more context including the fact that despite the name the LeBarons are an English family hence Joey's accent. In addition, the filmmakers were a little naughty in using some stock "olde tyme" footage that didn't relate to LeBaron's.

This is relevant, as just after lunch, I stopped at what was labelled a "general store" in the hopes of buying a banana or two. It turned out that it was in essence a recreation of an "olde tyme" general store and that I was out of luck regarding bananas.

A further on, I came upon the municipality of St-Cuthbert which was proudly declaring that it was turning 250.  I have recently been reading a series of novels set in Alfred the Great's day and therefore noted that Saint Cuthbert was an English saint and therefore a relatively odd choice for a place name in Quebec.  I did the math (2015-250=1765), remembered that the Treaty of Paris ceding New France to Britain was 1763, and concluded that choice of saint was likely due to the place being settled by demobilised British soldiers or in order to flatter the new British masters of New France. Mummy later told me that she had seen a sign that said the name was because the land was in a seigneurie assigned to a British officer/administrator. When asked by his French tenants for a land grant for a church, he agreed provided they dedicate the church to Saint Cuthbert as one of his names was "Cuthbert". I wasn't far off!

Mummy's take:

On Friday, Hugh and I had been going to do a loop near the north end of the Richelieu river, but the weather didn’t seem promising and my knee was very sore.  So we did odd jobs at home and left after an early lunch, and tootled around Granby, which I had regretted not having time for last September.  Interesting.  15 km.  And my knee not sore a bit!

Daniel made us a good supper of fusilli and Italian sausage and wine sauce.

We got up at 5:45, out of the house before 7, on our bikes in Berthierville by 8:10.  A gorgeous day, sunny, but not too hot.  We kept our jackets on for a short while.

Such an interesting and pretty trip!  Leaving Berthierville we were on a narrow street with old houses, all well kept.  That was the tone of the whole day.  Village after village with attractive houses, pretty church, no suburbia!  I figure it is beyond commuting distance from Montreal.  Prosperous old farm houses, some brick, with verandahs, well painted.  What a discovery!

Berthierville, Maskinongé, Louiseville, St Léon, Ste Ursule, St Justin, St Viatur, St Barthélemy, St Cuthbert.

Daniel did a bit extra, just 8 km more than us, and sent a text that he was at lunch, when we were 3 km away from it.  So we were able to eat lunch together.  The afternoon extras didn’t tempt him so he was relaxed about his afternoon, and stopped to buy us bananas.

There was a bit of wind against us when we were heading west.  I managed a few kilometres close behind Hugh, but it is always scary!  Either he or I can so easily make a false move.

St Cuthbert was our last village before the end.  I was curious about why it was called St Cuthbert.  The answer was on a plaque.  James Cuthbert, aide de camp to Wolfe, was seigneur there and gave the land for the church stipulating that it had to be named St Cuthbert.  At the end I asked Daniel if he knew why it was St Cuthbert.  He had been speculating that as the town was obviously celebrating its 250th anniversary (signs on every house), it must have been founded just after the Battle of the Plains of Abraham and so the English had named it.  When I told Joey about my findings and Daniel’s near guess, she said it should have been the Défi of the Librarians.

Back at the car at 2:30, to find Daniel waiting for us.  He went for chocolate milk, while I went to pee and change.  Slow drive back.  Getting out of the car at Daniel’s Hugh and Daniel were obviously having trouble.  I gaily said that I was not feeling stiff, nimble Sue would hop out.  And when I did I had a painful cramp in one leg!.  Quick showers, barbecue at James’, home by 9 pm.

A great day!

My statistics;  97.38 km, avg 18.5 km/hr
Daniel: 103 km avg 23 km/hr