On some minor events

Old rails

I was walking on the still active railway spur line along the Lachine canal a few weeks ago when I noticed that the plates holding the rails to the ties had dates on them along with the railway's initials. 

Some had the current CN initials in a manner close to the famous CN logo and relatively recent date, 1972 in this case.

Others had the older initials, viz CNR, complete with periods, as well as much older dates! I later observed that it wasn't just the plates but also the rails themselves that had dates on them. This was the oldest I noticed.

Unless I am wildly out to lunch, the dates are those of the manufacture of the hardware, so these bits of the line are nearly a hundred years old! Before any of you start calling Canada's first astronaut or the Minister of Transport demanding an inquiry, I submit the observation that this is and probably always was a low speed spur line serving industry. As such, the rails would have been under relatively little stress and wear. Furthermore, it is likely that some of the rails and plates may have been first used on main or branch lines before being re-used on this spur line.

Old bike frames

Last Wednesday, I set off on Justin with the trailer to deliver two boxes of books to the Library. It was a crisp and clear day. I didn't get very far. My right hand (rear) brake-shifter lever would only go backwards after the application of disconcertingly large amount of force, followed by a disturbing click then slackness which did not produce much braking force. I returned home, then used Communauto to deliver and pick up the books. I then brought Justin into the closest bike shop to see if they could figure out what the issue was. Thankfully, it was a matter of about 10 minutes of adjustment. While I waited, I noticed the bike shop had farmes of expired bikes as part of the decor. For instance, this gate barring access to the workshop area uses the frame of what I assume is a Cervélo.

This lamp is supported by another Cervélo frame.

Work these days

Yesterday, my parents held a virtual "April birthday party in November." If I may digress, an unusually large number of members of my family (including both my parents) have their birthdays in April. Late last century, the tradition emerged of having a collective birthday party slash family reunion for them, usually at my parents' house. For obvious reasons, this did not happen this year. A few weeks ago, my Mother decided to host a virtual "April birthday party" on Zoom. We ended up being about a dozen Zoom screens, spread out over 4 time zones, 3 countries and 2 continents.

One of my cousins asked me if I was still working at the Library. I said: "No, but I still working for the Library!" I then grabbed a book at my left to show the camera saying that I was at the very spot I work these days. I then produced a Cutter-Sanborn three figure author table to further illustrate my point.

On rain gear

 I think I got my money's worth out of my Activa rainpants. I bought them nearly 14 years ago at Capp's bike shop in New Westminister on the same trip as when I bought Leonardo. They spent most of their time in mesh bag of rain gear at the bottom of a backpack just in case it would rain. They came in handy in 6 countries on 3 continents, not to mention countless comutes. However, they were getting long in the tooth and the lining was ripped in a few places, including the posterior making them less watertight than one would wish.

I had settled on the Showers Pass Transit pants, which although nominally stocked by MEC, aren't available in my size from said commerce. So I decided to order them directly on-line. Earlier this week, I got an email from FedEx saying they would be delivered today. However, today is a Wednesday, so I would be out for some time delivering and bringing back books from the Library. Consequently, I used a link to FedEx to delay delivery for 24 hours.

As luck would have it, it was raining today, so I donned my rain gear and set off to the Library with two boxes of books in garbage bags on the covered bike trailer. Afterwards, I went to a shoe repair store in search of shoe laces. The guy behind the counter notice my waterproof shoe coverings (also made Showers Pass) and wanted to know where I had got them. I replied at MEC and tried to explain that they had the flaw that they aren't compatible with cleats. This proved a bit of a challenge as the conversation was in French, my French vocabulary vis-à-vis bike bits isn't as strong as it might be, and the fact that the guy's biking experience evidently didn't run to cleated shoes.

I worked at home until 8 PM and then ordered in a pizza. When it arrived, the delivery guy commented that there was a parcel at my door. Lo and behold, it proved to be the Showers Pass bike pants, delivered a day ahead of schedule!

On someone trying to ride my bike

 Earlier this week, I walked down my front steps and saw someone trying to ride my bike.

Or maybe just wanted a ride.

 

Or perhaps it was just a nice perch. ;-)

On drips and draps of stuff

I haven't been writing much lately, partly because I haven't been riding much and because I have been lazy. A case in point would be the following set of photos. 

As my readers can likely tell, I have a certain fascination with trains. Among other aspects, the historic, "small-scale" connections appeal to me. One small scale bit is how trains interfaced with factories back in the day. Back in my youth, we would sometimes drive into Magog to pick up people at the bus station, then downtown near the big textile factory near the river. My brothers and I would strain to see the "little green [shunting] engine" that was usually at the ready near the loading area of the factory.

Anyway, back in July, I was biking beside the Lachine Canal when my way was blocked a short train of grain cars leaving the Ardent Mills. Ardent Mills must be among the last true industrial businesses still going at the eastern end of the Canal. It also seemingly the only one I know of that still gets its' raw materials by such an old school method of delivery. The track going to the mill also has an odd shift in level of importance. It is obviously just a little line, less than a kilometer long, but it connects with the CN mainline between Montreal and Toronto at the far end!

 

Now that I think of it, one fond memory I have is of watching a train stop in North Hatley. The crew detached the first few cars from the rest of the train, then put them into the siding next to the Club. They then reattached the locomotives to the rest of the train and headed off. 

In other bits of biking news, a few weeks ago I was riding along de Maisonneuve with a couple of boxes of books in my bike trailer, when a guy in a truck rolled down his window to ask where had I bought the trailer. It turned out he went bike touring and thought it might be a good way of hauling his gear around. Nice to be appreciated.

On steel and getting home

The winds were calmer and more indirect today, which was good as yesterday proved to have consequences. I set off from Sorel, over a lift bridge to its sister city, Tracy. I was following the 132 rather than the Route Verte and was rewarded by the sight of a Rio Tinto steel and titanium mill, emphasis on the steel. It wasn't terribly pretty, but it was interesting to me. I have a certain fascination with industry.

All this stuff we have comes from countless processes and origins. To give just one germane example, as a mechanical engineering drop-out, I remember being amazed at the almost magical way iron and carbon come together to make steel, or rather steels as by small variations in the ratios and certain additives, there seems to be no limit on what characteristics you can coax from steel, except possibly lightness. ;-) And as an added bonus, I gather iron and its derivatives are among the most recycled materials. It also had the bonus of seeing a new to me variety of railway gondola car which looked particularly stocky and sturdy as if they were used to transport very heavy materials such as iron ore. The nearby autoroute, number 30, has the name "Autoroute de l'acier" as the area was and is a relative hotspot for the steel industry in Québec. I was to pass at least one other steel mill, this one having a conveyor belt system to carry ore (or possibly other bulk materials) over the 132 from the shore of the St-Lawrence.

The weather was sunny and cool and I felt I made decent time. I stopped for lunch at a restaurant in Varennes. While I was eating, another cycle tourist came it and asked for a table from which he could keep an eye on his bike. This proved to be the table next to mine and I could see that he had brought 4 water bottles in with him. (I later saw his "whee" bike with attached monowheel trailer: two bottles in the classic positions and two attached to seatpost.) We chatted a bit, though I fear I didn't give him enough props when he said he had started in Vaudreuil that morning as I couldn't recall exactly where Vaudreuil was. (I later found out that it is just off the West end of Montreal Island, meaning that he had already ridden approximately 80 kms that day.)

I attribute this mental fog to fatigue as even after lunch I found that I was relatively sluggish. Thankfully, Varennes was the beginning of the end with a nice, well-used bike path besides the Saint-Lawrence.

Google maps had suggested that the best way across the River was to use the Jacques-Cartier Bridge to get to Île Sainte-Hélène, then take the Pont de la Concorde. However, the Cartier Bridge is not familliar to me by bike. From taking the bus out to the Townships, I know that its' approach from the South Shore involves many twists and turns the logic of which appears opaque. Not something to be approached lightly. The Bridge also involves a considerable amount of climbing and indeed, it was the sight of it high above my level that proved the clincher. I took the the longer but easier option of crossing the Seaway at the St-Lambert locks, riding along part of the Circuit Gilles-Villeneuve to Île Sainte-Hélène, then taking the Pont de la Concorde. Then it was very easy to get home. I rode along a portion of Notre-Dame street that had gone from two-way to one-way to two-way in my absence.

It was less easy to haul Leonardo up the stairs to my flat as my left knee started to complain.

On fears realized and the colour red

I had been afraid what happened today would occur ever since leaving Montreal: having to pedal back into a stiff prevailing wind. It was blowing at least 30 km/h with gusts up to 50 mostly directly in front of me as I rode through mostly open farm country. The only real exception came at the very end of the day when there was about 10k of closely wooded bike path which was also slightly off the eye of the wind.

In addition, a few hundred meters from my motel in Gentilly, the road had been dug up from side to side in order to install a culvert. This explained why I had been able to sleep with the window open the night before. I portaged across the gap making two trips. I was not out of the woods as some kilometres later, I had to make another portage. As I was reattaching my bags, a female cycle tourist going the other way rolled up. She asked me how I got across. I explained how I jumped the ditch and warned her about the other location. She had a number of bags on the back of her Norco which looked like more trouble to take on and off than mine.

My route took me across two Abenaki Reserves. I felt a trifle worried about the fact that I happened to have worn a red jersey today. Perceived symbolism and all that. Of course, it was a bright red jersey, the colour chosen for visibility and my liking of bright red and nothing else. Mind you, much of me is now red having skimped on the sunscreen.

Home tomorrow and lesser winds forecast.

On being somewhere that doesn’t quite exist

“Ils sont de Québec,” said the woman who had been walking her bike across the Pont du Québec behind me. Like me, she had donned a mask as per regulations. The cyclists she was referring to had not. As well, they had been riding their road bikes on the bike and pedestrian portion of the world’s longest cantilever span. The path is less than two meters wide, being very much an afterthought to rail and car traffic. Consequently, one is supposed to walk one’s bike across, and, because of Covid-19, do so wearing a mask. I had no idea where she was from, but she attributed their stupidity to their being from Quebec City.

I had bid adieu to the others a half hour earlier this morning, my social bubble reduced to me, myself and I. Someone had sent a witty observation to Mummy the evening before which seemed à propos: “It started as a virus, but it has mutated into an intelligence test.”

I headed East on Route Verte 3 with the Saint-Lawrence sometimes visible on my right. The winds were blessedly either non-existent or favourable. The skies were generally cloudy as befitting the forecast. There were warnings about rainfall resulting from tropical storm I-something. However, I got a lot of kilometres done before it began to sprinkle lightly. I eventually pulled on my rain jacket, but it only began to pour when I pulled in for lunch, 70 kilometres under my belt, roughly two thirds of the way to Gentilly.

I had chosen Gentilly as my first night for two reasons. The first was that it was a reasonable day’s ride from Quebec City and had a place to stay as well as an obvious place to eat supper. The second reason, and a quite trivial one, was that since high school I had been aware that the province’s only nuclear power plant was Gentilly-2, now somewhere in the process of decommissioning.

However, there is something a bit weird about the place as despite being a substantial agglomeration (more so than many of the villages I have been through) it doesn’t really exist politically, having been merged with Bécancour, likely back around 2002 or so. One testament to this is that I am spending the night in the Motel Bécancour. Riding along in the rain, I saw no signs saying “Gentilly X km” or even “Gentilly (Bécancour ) X km”. I can’t help wondering if because of the association of the word “Gentilly” with nuclear power, that the bureaucrats in Bécancour have decided to make Gentilly an non-place.

Even if it doesn’t quite exist, I am there. I also reasonably dry.

On getting to Quebec City and what was done there

I was correct about the B and B having been built in the time of Nouvelle-France. The building dated from approximately 1660. Breakfast involved a dish apparently called a Dutch baby akin to a large Yorkshire pudding with huloumi cheese and strawberries.

LeLoup, the owners’ Bernese mountain dog, looked on through a glass door. Désirée and Dominique spent a certain amount of time with him, even taking him for walk. This was good as Désirée has expressed a desire for a dog of that breed. Her parents had been having trouble explaining to her the concept that the breed was too much dog. The friendly but insufficiently trained LeLoup helped illustrate the issue to my niece.

We set off on a side road down by the river then climbed slightly to a road which had been the Main Street of Neuville before the advent of Highway 138. There we paused to admire a church which had become the local library. Unfortunately, some of us had longer to admire it and mural than we might of wished as Pappy had a flat tire, cause undetermined.

It being a sunny Saturday, there were a great many spandex cyclists on “whee” bikes out of Quebec City. It amazed Dominique to see some of them stop at a dep to buy a Coke and a Jos Louis. I wasn’t brave enough to tell her that I sometimes did the same.

There had been the idea that the modus operandi of the day would be to go from farm stand to local bakery in order the stretch the day out. There were two flaws in this plan. The first was that so near to a city, such stands grow fewer in number. The next was that the Route Verte/Chemin du Roi left highway 138 relatively early placing us on a nice back road which definitely didn’t have enough traffic to support road side stands.

We stopped at small to walk down to the River, then we were faced with a steep climb which everyone walked up.

We rode through some neighbourhoods populated by people with more money than architectural taste. One house was an exercise in fairytale medieval turrets and towers.

We arrived at Cap-Rouge where we found lunch in the form of a basic casse-croute, the better sit-down restaurant next door being too much trouble for the APU, i.e. he would have to wait in a mask for a minute to be seated. This brought me into conflict with his Nibs and an uptight woman who thought I was too close to her as I tried to park my bike. We were under a high iron railway trestle which Désirée thought ugly but which struck others as soaring.

After lunch, we had a long hill to face. Dominique and your correspondent made it up without pushing. We rode on until the Plains of Abraham and the Musée des Beaux Arts (as opposed to the Musée des Laids Arts) where we hung a left and soon found our air B and B.

It is a trifle eccentric, with two floors, street level and below with both bathrooms on the lower level. We settled in, showered and waited for Fil to arrive with the car and sundry items including food, notably supper.

This morning Dominique and I went to a nearby laundromat cum bubble tea joint in order to do our laundry. The bubble tea part of the operation didn’t open until noon. Afterwards, I cleaned Leonardo’s chain.

I then set off to my cousin Marianne’s house. Luckily, she was there and very willing to play hostess to a cousin arriving out of the blue. We chatted, me in her pool. Her sons,Liam and Nathan, arrived back from having taken the new puppy for a walk. “Toffee” is the pup’s name, chosen as an amalgam of “tough” and “happy” and as a reference to the light brown in his white and brown coat. They have had him for two weeks. It was fun to see a Brittany Spaniel again (Granny and Gandpa having had them). It was also a little sobering though as the last (and indeed only) Brittany Spaniel puppy I remember was Meg. She was born the same summer as my sister! Toffee is still a young puppy learning and playing. He was chosen for his boldness and sociability from his litter mates.

Afterwards, I visited the Plains of Abraham Museum which covered not only the Battle and related topics but also the history of the Abraham Battlefield Park. I was surprised to learn how recent (1908) the decision to make the park was and just how long it took to finish it (something like fifty years). Among the buildings demolished to make way for the park was Canada’s first observatory and the Ross armaments factory. The latter was an obvious thing to remove given the infamous reputation of the Ross rifle.

I proceeded to the Old Upper Town. I was thinking about lunch and was consulting my guidebook as to where it began to pour. Nuts to the guidebook, let’s go indoors. Thankfully, it proved decent enough. It had a large screen TV tuned to the CBC which was broadcasting King Lear. The sound was off but there were subtitles in English. After lunch, the rain subsided long enough to lure me down the the Quebec naval museum which was closed on account of Covid-19. In the process, I discovered my rear brake wasn’t up to scratch. I tried adjusting it with little success. A Google search of open bike shops led me on a wild goose chase to the Lower City and away from where I should have gone at the word “go”, viz MEC. Unfortunately, the latter is no longer where it was the last time I was in Quebec City, very close to where I was, and instead is now well removed from downtown. I set off in the thickening rain before noticing that it was getting a bit late for a visit to MEC on a Sunday afternoon. So tomorrow, I will go there after the Frida Kahlo exposition.

When I got back to the air B and B and drying off, Mummy informed me that Désirée had visited a number of book stores and that at one used bookstore, she had been so frustrated at the lack of organization in the children’s section that she had reorganized it herself. The owner gave her a book in gratitude. She’s got librarian in her genes. ;-)

On a short, slow day

After three vaguely long days and the fact there wasn’t an obvious alternative, I opted to bike with the rest of the group. I wish I had been more involved with the planning as I was concerned about Désirée who seemed both tired and a bit bored. This trip features a fair number of quaint villages and historic churches, but I don’t think is what you are really interested in when you are 12. Furthermore, there hadn’t been enough stops (as in any) for ice cream the day before. I had gone through several tourism pamphlets where I had found a salmon migration observatory which I believed would interest her. Regrettably, I only discovered it was closed after going down a long hill.

It was a short slow day. Humid and warm, but not hot. Climbing up out of Cap Santé, there was a sign forbidding “soufflage” or blowing. I took a photo and mock umbrage at the municipality for such a silly sign. What do did they expect cyclists to do going up the hill, hold their breath?! ;-)

In fact the sign was aimed at snow clearance vehicle drivers warning them not to blow snow off the road and onto the roofs of the houses below. I am still entitled to take mock umbrage.

Unless I am very much mistaken, tonight’s B and B was built in the days of Nouvelle-France. Unfortunately, this means beams at treacherous heights.

We are getting uncomfortably close to Quebec City. We have already passed one municipality which was definitely a suburb and several that likely are. The types of shops aren’t quite the rural ones desired by some in the party and the only ice cream place I saw today was at the wrong time for Désirée.

On some surprising luck and humour

By some improbable luck, both yesterday and today saw me arriving at nearly the same time as the others at our bed and breakfasts, despite different routes and yesterday, conveyances. Today, I arrive at the Auberge le Chemin du Roi something like a fifteen or twenty minutes after Mummy, Pappy, Dominique and Désirée, having taken a significantly longer and more arduous route from Trois-Rivières. The previous day, I arrived at the B and B about three minutes before they arrived from North Hatley by car along with Fil. You cannot plan on such timing.

Yesterday, after a brief visit to the Gilles-Villeneuve Museum, I rolled out of Berthierville, stopping to visit the Chapelle Cuthbert, billed as the oldest Protestant place of worship in Quebec, having been consecrated in 1786, if I recall correctly. This claim strikes me as a bit dubious as surely there would have been other Protestant churches built in Montreal or Quebec City before then! Especially given that one of the “intolerable” acts that led to the American Revolution was the toleration of Catholics which implies that being Protestant in was acceptable. It was also interesting that the chapel was in fact a Presbyterian place of worship dedicated to Saint-Andrew. The name Cuthbert was attached to as the family who built it were the Cuthberts.

That was about it as far as interesting things until Trois-Rivières. The countryside was agricultural Quebec, dotted with farms and rural garages. I did notice a truck delivering Radnor spring water decorated with a scene of misty mountains.

Getting close to downtown, I was faced with a triple railway crossing. I wondered to myself if all three were actually used. When I crossed them, I saw that they led directly into a paper mill and all three bays had lumber cars in them! I appreciate well-used railways.

At the B and B, it was strange as it was the first time I had seen that part of the family since January. Funnily enough, it was Fil who looked the strangest to me as he had shaved his beard a few days earlier and was now at the stubble stage. We went the Borealis Museum which was largely concerned with paper making and log driving. Both of these activities were important to the City. The videos about log driving suffered from a disconnect as there were many scenes of manly log driving shot in the fifties and some modern interviews with log drivers who were put out of work when log driving came to an end in 1995. There was too much “pastoral” nonsense about how happy the men were to be outdoors (in all weathers) and what nonsense it was to stop the log drives because it was bad for the environment and prevented yachts from safely using the rivers. There was no rebuttal to this. Nor did they show of how log drives had worked in the 1990s, as if they were the same as in the 1950s, I would be extraordinarily surprised.

We had tapas for supper overlooking the Saint-Lawrence. Then Fil drove back to North Hatley.

We set off together this morning. I soon left the party in order to track down a bicycle bell, having managed to forget to reinstall one before leaving. I then left the Greater Trois-Rivières area on a bike path which took on a road through a suburban development whose streets had been laid by some with a wicked sense of humour. I was climbing a hill when what appeared to be a single street crossed the road I was on. “Appeared” being the operative word. One the right hand side, the street was Place Pierre-Eliott-Trudeau, on the left, Place René-Lévesque!!!

I eventually left the suburbs behind and rolled along a flat country road with farms, fields and woods on either side. Then, I came to a sign for the Radnor bottle plant which bore no ressemblance to the advertising image!

My target was the Batiscan River Park. I had worked out it would make an interesting diversion from the 138 as well as being a challenge. It wasn’t quite as interesting as I thought, as I only saw a couple of rapids. However, it was a nice change and challenge to ride. While I was in the park, it sprinkled a bit. In addition, I heard some thunder and saw a lightning bolt, but that was it. However, the others only a few kms to the South took refuge from a deluge in the church they had been visiting. Luckily for them, Désirée had wanted to visit the crypt which meant that they were inside when it started to pour.

As I approached the Saint-Lawrence on the shore of the Batiscan River, I was surprised by the layout of a train bridge as the middle section had been built with a pivot to allow fairly tall ships to go up river. I suspect they were “goélettes”, the late form of merchant “schooners” far removed from the Bluenose and closer to the St-Roch.

Nearing Ste-Anne-de-la-Pérode, I noticed the Chenil du Chasseur. This was of interest as my cousin Marianne, who lives in Quebec City, had recently bought a Brittany Spaniel there! I am hoping I will get to see Marianne and her gang (including the Brittany Spaniel).

After a raspberry milkshake, it was a good mostly flat ride to the Auberge where Désirée spotted me rolling up the driveway.

On my troubled mind

For various reasons, I don’t think I am in very good shape both physically and mentally. The ramifications of social distancing have meant I don’t get the physical exercise and social contact work provided directly or indirectly. My personal demons and wretchedly hot and humid weather meant that I haven’t been riding any great distances this year before today.

This combined with Via Rail’s policy of requiring masks on trains led me to decide against biking to the Saguenay and taking the train back to Montreal. 9 or 11 hours of wearing a mask in a row doesn’t appeal. So instead, I will return from Quebec City on the South Shore by bike.

I set off this morning a little after 8 or so. I’d explored the route beforehand, so I had no trouble get to the bridge to Repentigny.

I had to lift Leonardo over a curb just behind two younger women doing the same. They were on “whee” bikes lightly loaded with one or two panniers. One of them asked me where I had started. I admitted Montreal. They had also started today and like me were headed to Quebec City. Unlike me, their destination for the day was Trois-Rivières. That was about 60 kms further than Berthierville where I planned to spend the night.

While they were on lighter and likely faster bikes, they were much more ambitious than me. This was a drop of acid on my mind.

It also may have affected my judgement in Repentigny. The Route Verte number 5 crosses the municipality using bike paths designed for getting around the neighbourhoods rather than for getting to Quebec City. I could tell this from the map. I also knew that such bike paths are not to be trusted on account of indifferent signage. I also knew that the fast way was to get on highway 138 and ignore the Route Verte. For various reasons that did not stand up to scrutiny, I chose to follow the Route Verte and consequently got lost at least three times. Given my good geographical sense, this was a serious blow to my ego.

The day was hot and humid with a generally cooperative tailwind. While the wind was appreciated, it did raise my worries about getting back to Montreal with it in my face. The heat and humidity were draining. Together with an unwise choice of lunch, I found myself stopping repeatedly for something cold to drink. One planned stop was at a winery to sample their wares.

I made Berthierville by mid-afternoon. I was very happy to discover an ice cream place offering soft serve raspberry sherbet. That went down a treat.

Berthierville’s most famous son was Gilles Villeneuve. I had seen signs for a museum in his honour. However, when I checked into my lodgings for the night I discovered I had ridden right past it without noticing it. I later took a closer look and it’s lot is dominated by a U-Haul dealership! As I got a free entry coupon with my room, I might well take a quick visit tomorrow morning.

Mileage for the day was a shade over a 100 kilometres.

On the first trip with trailer to the Library

I made arrangements with the powers that be make an appointment to drop off two boxes of books and other items I had catalogued at the Library and to pick up another two boxes of the same. I loaded up the trailer and tried to secure upper box with orange paracord. Unfortunately, it tended to slide forward somewhat. By the time I got the delivery door of the Library it looked like this.

 Thankfully, the two boxes I picked up where of such a size they could be flipped on their sides be placed side by side in the trailer, and thus be secured with a length of old inner tube. This lead to a more relaxed ride home.

It took me about 50% longer to get to the Library than normal and made for a good leg and cardiovascular workout. I must make a note to measure the internal dimensions of the trailer for future reference.

On what this summer's bike trip might be

What with Covid-19 and other issues, I had been wondering if this summer's vacation my be a staycation. Mummy has proposed a trip with Désirée and Dominique from Trois-Rivières to Québec City including bike-based exploring of Quebec City as an intro to bike touring with my brother Philip acting as the sag wagon. The idea is that I would join them in Trois-Rivières having biked there from Montreal.

There is however a problem with this plan: how do I get back to Montreal? The intercity buses aren't running and there is currently no baggage service on Via Rail between Quebec City and Montreal. Obviously, I could bike back to Montreal using a different route but that doesn't overly appeal to me as it means more city biking.

Another possibility that has my interest would be continue on from Quebec City to Jonquière in the Saguenay and catch Via train number 602 back to Montreal as it does have a baggage car. This does have the advantage of increasing the number of Via routes I have experienced as well as the possibility of whales heightened by my recent sighting of Montreal's late, lamented humpback. On the flip side, it will mean a lot of eff-ing steep hills.

On second time lucky twice over

Thanks to this website, I was able to know in advance where Montreal's humpback was likely to be early this afternoon. In point of fact, it was hanging out in the Lemoyne Channel between Île Sainte-Hêlène and Île Notre-Dame. Very conveniently, it was between two bridges between those islands and wasn't moving around much.

 It is in this picture but it is hard to see.

The basic technique of whale watching was to wait for a spout...

...then observe the back as the huge creature sank below the waves. It was staying more or less in the same place, swimming against the current. I watched for about fifteen minutes.

I was hardly the only one there to see the whale.

I then set off to the Canadian Tire I had visited yesterday and successfully bought a bike trailer. I assembled it and rode home just as it started to rain. As I arrived home, one of my neighbours said: "Nice bike trailer!"   "Thank you. I just bought it!

On how no good deed goes unpunished

I decided to buy a bike cargo trailer today. So after work, I unlocked Justin Thyme and walked down the street to a spot where there wasn't a parked car to put the bike on the road. Unfortunately something caught my eye: a TD debit card.

I tried phoning the number on the back, but the first thing I got was a recording saying that due to Covid-19 TD has cut its call centre staff and therefore wait times will be longer. I locked Justin to a railing and went inside to see if I could report the lost card from TD's website but I had insufficent luck or patience to find the appropriate bit of the website assuming it exists.

So I decided I would hand it into the police. There was a station not too far away from my home and almost on my way. So I rode off. Unfortunately, the bike bridge across the canal I wanted to use was unexpectedly closed for no apparent reason. This meant quite a detour. Then when I got to the station, it was technically closed due to Covid-19. I went inside the first door to see if there was a drop off slot. There wasn't, but then a voice came from an intercom telling me that the station was closed. I said: "Okay, but would please you tell me what I should do with this debit card I found?" Whereupon, I was buzzed in and the woman on the intercom came out and directed to a counter. She went behind it and accepted the card and a scrap of paper on which I had written where and when I had found it.

So I set off to the Angrignon Canadian Tire. There was no line up when I pulled up outside. However, as I locked the bike, a half dozen people who seemed somewhat clueless came up to the door and were directed to go in one at time by the guard. I waited behind them. I went in. For some "clever" reason, Canadian Tire seems to have decided that the best thing to do is to make the main aisles narrower by putting a lot things in the middle of the aisle. This made social distancing rather hard, especially as many of the other patrons seemed clueless about doing so.

I found what I wanted then headed for the cash.

There was a very long line up.

And the trailer wasn't pre-assembled.

And I had supper to organize, and people to meet on Zoom later that evening.

I returned the trailer to where I had found it and left. I was startled to see a very long line-up outside. My take was that I had arrived during the afternoon rush, which I would probably have avoided had I not seen the debit card!!!

On a whale of a tail of a day

Today has seen three separate bike trips. The first was a "sweat ride" on the "usual loop", that is along the Lachine Canal to Lachine then back via River. I saw several families of Canada geese complete with goslings who didn't know better than to sit down on a bike path.

The second was an optimistic ride to Dieppe Park (near the Old Port) undertaken in the hopes of seeing the humpback whale which decided to visit Montreal. This is the first time such an event has happened in recorded history. The whale was apparently not in that bit of the St-Lawrence for the 10-15 minutes I was there. I don't entirely blame him or her as the current was substantial. From the "body language" of some boats further down the River the whale might have been off the Eastern end of Île Sainte-Hélène. However, it was further than I wanted to ride. Also, my sense of geography had incorrectly informed me that said area of Île Sainte-Hélène was occupied by La Ronde and hence or otherwise unaccessible.

On the way home, I stopped at the Verdun Canadian Tire to get new CO2 cannister for my SodaStream. While today was cold for May (the high was 12 degrees C), the previous week had been extremely hot with highs in the 30s! This resulted in a lot of soda water being drunk. I keep three bottles of the stuff in my fridge. I checked my contact diary just now, and it was little more than two weeks ago that I last bought a CO2 cannister.

Once the new CO2 cannister was installed, I set off to James' for my weekly social chat at 2m or more distance. Given the relatively cold weather, he joked that he should have given me a hot rum toddy instead of a beer as a social beverage.

On progress of a sort

There was a long sunny spell last week with only minimal heat. As well, there was an Easterly wind which I used to explore more the Eastern end of the Island. On Saturday, I biked out to Montreal East along Notre-Dame, then headed inland and over to Blvd Henri-Bourassa. There was an amusingly named commerce along the way.

I headed West along that artery which was largely clear of cyclists who don't know how to ride in traffic. Together with long blocks, traffic lights with useful synchronisation and a tailwind, I was able get in some very nice "whee-ing". Interestingly, the most frequented businesses seemed to be garden centres though later on, there was a slightly disturbingly popular business. I was passing through what I believe was Montreal-Nord which is the COVID-19 hotspot of Canada. There was a line up outside one business in a mini-mall, namely a check-cashing business. To the best of my recollection, I have used cash maybe once since getting back from Vancouver. I do my banking online, and I have automatic deposit for my pay-check. It was sobering to think that a large number of people don't have access to such services that I take for granted for one reason or another. I couldn't help wondering if cash transactions are possibly one infection vector for COVID-19.

My goal was the Montreal branch of MEC where I was hoping to get a few bike related bits and pieces. I wasn't certain if this was possible. The website was giving slightly contradictory information. On the one hand, it said it was closed. On the other, it said it was open for bike repairs and bike sales. Strictly speaking, none of the things I wanted fell into those categories. However, I was looking for tire levers, bike tires and a bike bell could be glossed into bike repairs. I didn't need to worry, as in reality, the whole lower floor of the store was open for business, with a few caveats about washing your hands, no returns and of course keeping your distance. The signage on the latter was quite amusing:

Unfortunately, the store was out of the particular size of tire I was after. However, I stumbled upon a relatively large seat bag for Victor.

Today marked the first day that non-essential stores in certain categories may be open in Montreal. After work, I headed off to Archambault on Berri to buy a DVD. As I rode Justin downtown, I carried on with a notion that I had been working on for about a week. All in all, I think I was lucky and smart to buy Justin when I did as the MEC 1971 is no longer available. As well, it has been useful to have a true city bike. It seems I bought it just in time. I repeated that thought in my head: "Just in time." My commuting bike now has a last name. The full name is now: Justin Thyme. When I get the chance, I will have to get a sticker with a clock or a watch on it.

On a mixed bag of activities

After my last post, Mummy did a google map search about getting to and from the South shore by bike. She found the odd result that depending on the direction you entered, i.e. from the Island to the South Shore or the opposite, Google maps put you on very different routes.

She sent me these screen shots to prove it.

In the last month, I have been using Victor von Fleddermoose considerably more than Justin as most of my biking as been for exercise rather than for transportation. I have discovered a new route in the area, viz along the aqueduct. It is less well used than either the Lachine Canal or along Lakeshore Boulevard.

I saw another snow goose near the Saint-Lawrence. This one seemed have a damaged wing.

Last weekend, I was biking over to my friend James' for a chat at more than 2m away. As I was crossing Décarie Boulevard, I passed a family of cyclists. A boy of about twelve or so commented quite loudly, "Un maillot jaune nous dépasse!", or "A yellow jersey is passing us!"  This referred to my bright jacket and to the "maillot jaune" of the Tour de France.

This long weekend has been for all intents and purposes, the first weekend of spring, with sunny skies and warm weather. I have been out for exercise rides on all three days. As the Lachine Canal route is now quite busy, yesterday, I opted to head to Île-Notre-Dame in hopes of using the Circuit Gille-Villeneuve.

 

As I was crossing the Charlevoix Bridge, I was behind another cyclist who had a surfboard attached to the side of his bike. (It may surprise some of my readers, but there are a fair number of people who surf in the rapids of the St-Lawrence.)

I saw the M/T Sarah Desgagnés backing into a berth with the assistance of tug. Alas, Île-Notre-Dame is currently closed to the public.

Coming back, I stopped to photograph a pair of floating cranes, viz the Hercules owned by the Saint-Lawrence Seaway authority and the Grasse River which is owned by the Americans.

The wind was out of the North East today, so I rode nominally East along Notre-Dame for about 20 kms before turning to go home with the wind at my back.

I got to see another member of the Desgagnés fleet, M/T Gaïa Desgagnés.

Coming up to a stoplight, my mobile rang. I fished it out of my fanny pack. It was my Father who first asked me where I was. I looked up at the street sign, to see I was at Notre-Dame and de Lormier, which amused him somewhat by the literalness of my comment. After pleasantries, he told me that his sister Caroline had died this morning of a suspected heart attack. I believe she was 81 and not in the best of health. Sad news.

On escaping the Island

It has been nearly a month since I returned to the Island of Montreal. In that time, I hadn't left it. For that matter, I had barely left my arrondissement. However, today was a warm day, so I decided to explore a possible escape route for future reference, viz the new bike path on the Samuel-de-Champlain Bridge a.k.a. the New Champlain Bridge.

This took a surprising amount of tracking down. It was not that the Bridge is not easy to find. The problem is that Nun's Island hasn't quite got around to posting proper signage to help cyclists find the bike path. Furthermore, the bike path and therefore access to it, is on the downriver side of the bridge which is on the far side of the bridges (old and new) from where most of Nun's Island's bike paths are. Also, I don't think anyone has told Google Maps about the bike path. It wanted me to take the Ice Breaker Bridge, which is closed.

The Bridge Bike Path once found was unsurprisingly busy and home to any number of blackflies or something similar. It ended on the South Shore end with a long swooping curve that led back to a bike path on the shores of the river back over Highway 132/Autoroute 15. This seemed rather daft as it seems rather hard for people living right beside the Bridge to use it by bike. I would have put a bike bridge over the road around about where the big white pylon is. As if to prove my point, I saw someone heave his bike over a fence and then follow suit just about there. Currently, the bike paths seem more aimed at pleasure riders rather than at commuters.

 

The site is still under construction and the grey weather did not help make it look very attractive.

 

On a riverside surprise

I took Victor von Fleddermoose out to Lachine this afternoon. I came back along the River. The weather was a bit grey and the trees were bare so it was a bit drab. However, at one point there were signs indicating a migratory bird sanctuary. There were the usual Canada geese cropping the grass. However, on the edge of a small flock of them, there was a snow goose!!!

I had seen snow geese flying on migration from time to time, but this was the first time I had seen one so close. I thought it was very neat. I am not sure if the location was normal for snow geese. However, snow geese have been known to get very lost, and Montreal isn't that far off the normal route for migrating snow geese.

Less agreeable was the fact that the pedestrian and bike bridge over the Lachine Canal at the Atwater Market is now closed on account of Covid-19. I am not surprised as the bridge is only about 3 m wide and gets a lot of traffic. The Charlebois Bridge a 100 m or so down the canal was closed to vehicular traffic to allow bikes and pedestrians to cross the Canal.

On a good first day of the regimen

Today was cool and sunny. It was also a day when I had to prepare a batch of beef stew. This meant I meant I did the active preparation at lunchtime and put the pot in the oven to slowly cook while I worked until 5:30. At that point, I took Victor von Fleddermoose out for a "whee" jaunt to Lachine and back. I got home, took the lid off the stew and warmed up some nan bread in a frying pan, then served myself a well-earned portion of stew. It may not be PC to say it, but I do enjoy a good beef stew.

I also am satisfied with my performance on the bike. I also had a certain pleasure when during a phone call with the director of the library, she asked me what my schedule for the rest of the day was as she might have come by with books for me to deal with. With a certain mix of emotions, I said that I would be at home working until 5:30, but then I wanted get in a ride on the bike as it was a sunny day. A cyclist herself, she accepted that as reasonable.

On going full "whee" with Victor von Fleddermoose

Thanks to the Quebec government making bike shops an essential service, I was able to acquire some SPD clipless pedals at one of my local bikeshops as well as some more spare inner tubes. I installed the new pedals on Victor von Fleddermoose along with a bottle cage and some narrower tires (700x28) which had been first acquired for Floria die Fleddermoose and have since seen service on Leonardo and were unsuccessfully installed on Justin.

Victor von Fleddermoose is so named for several reasons. The basic reason is that many of his components came from Floria die Fleddermoose. I wanted evoke Victor von Frankenstein, which might have lead to "Victor von Frankenmoose" if I didn't like the "Fleddermoose" logo that Margaret came up with a number of years ago, particularly as there is now a vinyl sticker cutter at work which allowed me to make proper sticker of it. (The sticker was made prior to the shut-down.)

Yesterday was gorgeously sunny, so I took Victor out for a full-on Mamil, "whee" ride along the Lachine canal. Probably because of the pandemic, there were many other people out including many other cyclists of varying breeds. Unfortunately, the Lachine Canal is undergoing repairs which means a fair portion of the bike path proper is closed. While Saint-Patrick Street (which parallels the Canal) is open, the road surface is poor. However, I was able to work up a sweat for the first time in a month so calories were expended. I am going to have to make it a rule that I go for an hour's ride every sunny day.

On a second lockdown ride

Yesterday was also reasonably good weather, so I took my first ride on the Kona, a.k.a. Victor von Fleddermoose. I rode up to Martin Swiss Bike Shop which is closed on account of Covid-19. I then rode down to the Lachine Canal and went up to about the Lasalle Coke Crane before heading home.

It felt much lighter, particularly the steering though that can be accounted for by the lack of milk crated and a fork made of carbon fiber not steel. At one point I began to feel thirsty and realised I should install a bottle cage on it.

I fear that this year's biking will not involve any trips and will instead be day rides on Victor.

In related news, I see that Vélo-Québec is asking the provinicial government to include bike shops in the list of businesses allowed to open during the lockdown. Their logic amounts that bike shops are equivalent to car garages which are allowed to be open. This would suit me as I have things to do at a bike shop.  On the other hand, it would be all very well to allow bike shops to open, but it would be tricky to run Martin Swiss as its quarters are rather cramped. ;-)

On a long haul of stuff

When I picked up the Kona there were a a number of issues with it. What with one thing and another, I think the bike shop made a mistake as the new frame was not compatible with my old wheels. It has fewer attachment points than one would want to the point that I was scratching my head about how to attach a rear rack suitable for a milk crate. As well, with the new parts required, the total cost came in a bit more than I was comfortable leaving out on the street. The question was rather moot as winter came early last year, so I was BMWing (Bus Metro Walk) to work.

I was still dithering about what to do about a commuting bike when this ad showed up in my mail box on Leap Day:

"Hmm", says I, "I wonder if that includes the MEC 1971?" (which had been my second choice not only for this bike decision but also back when I was buying Floria). Sure enough, the MEC 1971 was on sale at a very reasonable price. So the following Wednesday morning (I work 2-10 PM on Wednesdays), I went to MEC via Communauto equipped with shoes (for size testing), pedals (the MEC 1971 didn't come with them) and a favoured saddle. In no time at all, I was the owner of a XL MEC 1971 suitable for commuting. (I am thinking of keeping the Kona as a dedicated "whee" bike.)

The bike is named for the year MEC was founded. It was also the year that I was born. I have been casting around for a name for it and I am toying with "Justin" as he was also born that year!

That was Wednesday, March 4th. On Friday of that week, I flew to Victoria to see my brother Stephen, Margaret and Edward for a few days. 

I also got to see John, Caitlin and the adorable Arthur.

I then took the ferry over to Vancouver to spend a few days with Margo and Chris. It was there that the pandemic was declared.

There wasn't all that much to be done about it, so I helped Margo and Chris empty two of their compost bins and did some Vancouver-based shopping thanks to their newly tuned loaner bike. I wanted to repay their hospitality, so I went to Vancouver's sparkling new MEC building where after failing to find any bike reflectors on the shelves, I asked at the bike counter where they were. It turns out, MEC does not sell bike reflectors, rather it gives them away with the purchase of a bike. As some customers don't want them, there were some destined for recycling that the guy was prepared to give me for free. The following day, after due consultation with Margo and Chris, I bought a pair of second-hand flat pedals to replace the toe clip pedals it'd had. Toe clip pedals have their place, just not on a loaner bike intended for urban use.

While I was in Vancouver, I was informed by Alisa, my supervisor, that as I would be flying back to Montreal, I would have to self-isolate for two weeks. I checked Via's website only to find the Canadian was suspiciously sold out in every class. (I think it was more probable that Via stopped any new bookings.) So I flew back on the Saturday, then went into self-isolation on Sunday after stocking up on food.

The first week was still vacation, so I did some prep work on the bikes moving tires and other parts around. There is some issue with the rims on the 1971 which make it extremely tough to swap tires without damaging the inner tubes, tools or the user. I broke two plastic tire levers, two inner tubes and skinned my knuckles before giving up and putting the original tires back on. All the more frustrating as I couldn't go out to a bike shop for advice.

The second week, I started working from home via my computer. I was surprised to learn from Alisa that only three managers were in the Library building. I had somehow expected that while the Library would be closed to the public, employees, such as myself, would be allowed in order to work on the kinds of things we do that doesn't involve that public, and would even have the opportunity to embark on projects such as inventory. Later that day, the premier declared the lockdown. So, I worked from home for four days this week, mostly doing remote cataloguing but also updating a building database for the City.

At one point, the possibility was raised of taking uncatalogued books from the Library for me to catalogue at home. I asked my neighbour Jacques about potentially borrowing his bike trailer. We looked into it while maintaing social distancing. Unfortunately, his trailer is incompatible with bikes with disc brakes.

Midweek, I noticed on my electronic paystub that I was apparently taking a day off work. I scratched my head about this as tried to work out what that meant. Then I remembered that I'd had an appointment with an allergist on Friday which I had cancelled due to self-isolation, but the absence report I had filed back in February had made its way through the system. I therefore took today off.

It is a very nice day, so I took the new bike out for a spin, partly to try it out, partly for exercise, partly for mental relief and partly out of curiosity of the new reality. I went up Guy Street where I was surprised by this:

There are two uphill bike lanes! I guess it makes sense as Guy Street is one of the main ways to bike from Little Burgundy up to Downtown, but it seems extravagent. Downtown was very empty with only a few businesses open and the outdoor testing facility by the Place-des-Arts being used. There was even a tent marked "Medias" at a discrete distance from it. It was empty at that point.