Day Ten.

Granby to Rock Forest.

I forgot to relate two interesting occurrences from yesterday. The first ame shortly after I began to follow La Route Verte. I was flagged down by two puzzled looking guys who asked if I was following the route. When I said yes, they asked if we were on it. I said I thought so and pulled out my map, and we determined we were not in fact on the route, so we backtracked a few blocks and saw that we had turned off the route when we passed a street under heavy construction.

So good thing I met those guys or else I would have been lost in Montréal for who knows how long.

Super May West

A super May West

The second thing happened towards the end of the day. It had been raining off and on all day and I had stopped at a small rest area around 4pm to get out of the rain. After a few minutes an old guy pulls up on a scooter and says something about the rain in French. I tell him I don’t speak French and ask if he speaks English. He laughs and says something I don’t understand, from which I gather the answer is no.

He disappears for a moment behind the shelter and I hear him taking a leak. (This is to become a trend in Québec. I saw a lot of public urination– maybe it’s not a big thing for them?) A few seconds later I hear the distinct *pop* of an aluminum can being opened.

He comes inside the shelter. Either he chugged his beverage or he left it by his scooter. He’s a bit red around the eyes. Could he be scooting under the influence?

Anyway, we try to have a conversation which is pretty tough. All I’m able to discern is that he lives in the area and rides his scooter. It stops raining, we shake hands and I take off, having no idea what we just talked about.

Route Verte - Waterloo

Route Verte - Waterloo

The Route Verte has been much more interesting today. I took off from Granby at 7am, having had a couple muffins and some juice provided by Camil. It was a pretty ride to Waterloo, similar to yesterday’s terrain. It began to full on rain as I pull into Waterloo and I use a tiny kiosk for shelter.

Eventually it lightens up enough to allow me to move on in search of breakfast. I find “Resto Du Parc”, a nice little diner, and have bacon, eggs, and coffee for $5. Deal. I note that they give me peanut butter for my toast, same as at the hotel. This is definitely a Québec thing – or maybe a Canada thing?

Rain in Waterloo

Rain in Waterloo

I stop at IGA for some sundries and get caught in the rain again. Finally, around 11am, I leave Waterloo.

The route takes me next through Mont-Orford, a national park, with, not surprisingly, a mountain in the center. Also several nice lakes. It’s only been four days since I came out of the Adirondacks but my legs seem to have forgotten what to do. Or rather, the climbing here is different… instead of long, gradual ascents, it’s a lot of short, steep climbs, which is tougher. At least for me. Still, the trail is really nice. I’m definitely in the boonies of Québec now. Hardly a paved road to speak of.

Mont Orford National Park

Mont Orford National Park

Outside Magog

Outside Magog

The other thing is that the clouds today have been pretty ominous. Big, black thunderheads have been threatening the mountains all day. But the sun keeps peaking through and no major storm has come. I’m not sure if this phenomenon is something typical to the region or if today is just a weird day. I kept panicking that I would be caught in a massive downpour but it never happened.

Turtle Crossing

Turtle Crossing

Now I’m in the moderately sized town of Magog. Finally down out of the mountains. Not much camping ahead unless I press on past Deauville. Another fifteen miles. It’s 5pm and it would be bad to have to set up camp in a downpour.

***

The weather got much better. Ate at LeMcDonald’s and pressed on towards the camp ground. Along the way I ran into a couple who had been touring on a tandem bike that I saw a few days ago. I stopped and said hello and the conversation turned to where we were camping tonight. I told them I was going to a place about an hour away and they said they knew of a place only 5 km away. I asked if I could follow them and they said sure.

Paola and Silvano

Paola and Silvano

They’re an Italian couple named Paola and Silvano. Well, we made a couple wrong turns, consulted a few locals, made a few more wrong turns, and about 90 minutes and 19 miles later we finally found a place to camp. Camp Beau-Lieux. At least it’s close to the Route Verte. Paola has done three tours before and Silvano does one every year. He’s been all over the world.

The weather this evening was beautiful. The campsite is next to a busy highway but there is a kooky character telling ghost stories to the kids two sites down in French. I can’t understand a word but I can tell he’s doing a good job. I lay awake in the tent for awhile with the rain-fly pulled back, looking at the stars and listening to the histoires de fantômes.

Eastern Township Mountains

Eastern Township Mountains

Day Eleven.

Rock Forest to Windsor.

Rest Area outside Windsor

Rest Area outside Windsor

Chemin de la Riviére

Chemin de la Riviére

I am giving serious thought to the idea of ‘camping sauvage’ at the rest area here. A shower is not worth thirty bucks to me, especially with the river right here. This is a beautiful, peaceful spot on public land. I have half a bottle of water and plenty of food. I doubt anyone will bother me.

Today really felt like work. Lots of unexpected climibing with little reward, until now. Left camp Beau-lieux in Rock Forest around 8am and said goodbye to Silvano and Paola. We exchanged emails and facebooks. From there I rode into North Hatley and grabbed some coffee and croissants and hung around for a few hours. I think it was nearly 11 when I finally set off for Sherbrooke.

Sherbrooke

Sherbrooke

Hotel De Ville

Hotel De Ville, Sherbrooke

The ride took me through multi-variant terrain- farms, rivers, highways, and suburbs. The only real remarkable occurrence was finding an educational ‘mine touring’ company outside North Hatley. Apparently the area contains Québec’s largest copper mine and they are able to take tourists through the old mines. A wagon, pulled by a big tractor full of hard-hat wearing tourists was just leaving as I pulled up. I would have liked to try the tour but it was in French.

Mauricienne and Nicole

Mauricienne and Nicole

In an interesting turn of events, I saw a couple of old ladies on loaded touring bikes back in Windsor but I didn’t stop to say hi. Then I saw them again on the road to Richmond and they looked a bit lost so I helped them with directions. Then as I was setting up camp at the rest area they showed up and asked if I was camping here. I said perhaps and they said us too. So suddenly there were three of us camping sauvage. Their names were Mauricienne and Nicole and they were also headed to Québec. They were a pretty spry, funny pair. Only Mauricienne could speak English fluently so she was the translator. We made a campfire on the rocks out by the river and sat there for about an hour. As it got dark, a big full moon began to rise. Most of the time they just talked to each other in French bu I was tired and it was peaceful… I was content to tend the fire and listen to them chatter. Undoubtedly one of the finest nights of the trip.

Our Campsite

Our Campsite

Day Twelve.

Windsor to Plessisville.

Apparently the rest area is a popular spot for pre-dawn fishing becuse several people came and went during the night, and it’s difficult to sleep in a strange place with people showing up to do who-knows-what at a strange hour.

Sunrise at the rest area was beautiful. I woke up and packed up and Mauricienne and Nicole woke just in time to take some pictures and say bon voyage. The ride into Richmond was great, the sun peaking through the pines along the river. Finally, a sunny morning.

Saint-François

The Saint-François River, as seen from Richmond Bridge

Which turned into a hot day. Got terrible coffee and a snack cake at a ‘dépanneur’ (convenience store) in Richmond, but ound a nice place by the lake to enjoy it.

Richmond's Bridge

Richmond's Bridge

The Route Verte became mostly flat after Richmond and I pretty well blazed through the 40 kilos to Victoriaville where I stopped for lunch. The ride was pretty good, just real hot.

I had a terrible burger at a TGI Friday’s knockoff called Bravo Pizzeria. I was hoping for a $5 meal in a bag but everything in this town seems to be sit down so I paid $13 bucks. It was not remarkable in any way except they put green onions on it. The coleslaw was bland and the fries were fries. At least I’m full.

And sleepy. The sun is still beating down but there’s a nice breeze blowing. Church bells ringing downton. I think I’ll let lunch settle a bit more before I set off towards Plessisville.

***

The ride to Plessisville was quick and mostly uneventful, except for the first time on this trip I had a noticeable tailwind. For a few minutes I thought all this cycling had turned me into a super human, but then I noticed the trees were all pointed in the same direction as me.

Super Jos Louis

Super Jos Louis

Finally found what looks like a good spot to camp a few miles north of Plessisville. A little rest area just off the route and slightly below it, so the tent won’t be plainly viewable to any passersby, of which there will be few. I have seen much less traffic on the Route out in this part of the province, though I am hearing a plane for the first time in days, which is oddly comforting.

 

People & Bikes only.

The Route Verte is for bikes and pedestrians only.

Day Thirteen.

Plessisville to Québec.

Awoke feeling refreshed. The rest area remained undisturbed all night. I did see one of the very common scooter guys, but he drove by fast in the dark and did not see me. I packed up camp, ate a small breakfast of a croissant and orange, and headed out on the Route.

It was slow going. My legs did not want to move, and neither Lyster nor Dosquet had any place to get coffee. I was really out in the boonies. Finaly, after an arduous ten miles I found a dépanneur in St. Agapit and got a cup of coffee and a danish.

Then, like magic, I was rebooted. I easily conquered the remaining 25 miles and then I was in Sainté Redempteur, a suburb of Québec. And then I was crossing the Pont Du Québec.

Pont Du Québec

Pont Du Québec

Pont Du Québec from afar

Pont Du Québec from afar

After so many tiny wooden bridges across creeks and rivers, I was not ready for the size of it. The picture in y map book gives you no idea of scale – it’s a huge steel monstrosity crossing the Saint Lawrence. I met a local just before crossing and he was pretty impressed that had rode all the way from New York.

Then I rode down the Corridor du Littoral, which is basically the path that runs along the north shore of the St. Lawrence from the bridge to Québec proper. All the way there are these towering cliffs on the left side and the river on the right. They’ve taken good advantage of their waterfront – it’s mostly a park – not many businesses or homes.

Finally, after about 10 kilometers, the city atop the cliffs comes into view. It’s a sight to see. And then you find yourself in the narrow stone streets of the Quartier Petit Champlain. The city still visible high above the Vieux-port. The buildings are all made of finished stone. The whole city very much has the feel of a medieval fortress.

I wandered around for a few hours looking for a place to charge my phone. At one point I climbed the stairs up the liffs carrying my bike and baggage on my shoulders. That was pretty rough. Finally I found a cafe and sat googling hotels while my phone recharged.

Laval

Universite Laval

I discovered via the internet that cheap lodging was available at the Universite Laval, in the Sainte Foy area about 6km back west towards the bridge. Since I’ll need to head back that way when I leae on Tuesday, the dorms seemed like a good choice.

I rode to the Universite but I couldn’t find anyone in the dorms. Luckily my mapbook had Laval listed as “Bienvenue Cyclistes” and there was a phone number. Finally I found the right place (‘Pavilion Parent’ — for Bernie?) and they gave me a room in ‘Pavilion Lemieux’ (for Mario? Do the Canadians name all their colleges after hockey players? Seems like something they would do. But no, it’s Alphonse Marie Parent and Ernest Lemieux, whoever they are.)

 

Dorms

My dorm

The dorms are not bad at all. I got my own room (the bathroom is shared with others on the same floor) and I paid $30 per night. Plus the bust stop is right outside to take me downtown (‘centre-ville’) tomorrow. After depositing my baggage I showered and loaded up my dirty laundry and took the bike in search of a laundromat (‘buanderie’). The laundry finished, I then put everything (including my bike) back in the dorm and walked the campus looking for food. I found an A&W Root Beer and figured it must be fate. It’s funny, you order fast food and they still say, ‘bon appetit’ when they hand it to you, which it’s not exactly a gourmet meal.

I noticed today that Québecers in general don’t really use cellphones in public much and that old people are cycling fools. I’ve seen more people over 50 cycling around than not. Although that could just be because everyone else is at work. But the ratio is still much higher than in America. And most of these old guys are pretty strong cyclists. I’ve been passed by several old men today.

Québec from Lévis

Québec from Lévis

Day Fourteen.

Québec.

I took a ton of pictures, so see the gallery at the bottom of the page for the whole enchilada.

View from the Plains of Abraham

View from the Plains of Abraham

Feeling pretty exhausted after my day off in Québec. I walked who-knows-how-may miles, at least ten, up and down the hilly, frequently stair-y old city. I need to spend my next day off actually off.

I had a great time exploring the city. I managed to not ride my bike at all. I got up at 8 and walked over to the mall for some coffee. After that I took the bus into Old Québec which was easy. There was a time in my life when public transit seemed daunting but I guess NYC has emboldened me.

I spent the next several hours wandering around the city. The citadel, the funiculair, the Hotel Frontenac, Plains of Abraham, Vieux-Port. Around 1pm I started to get pretty hungry. I had read online about something called a ‘tourtiere quebecoise’ – a ´Québec meat pie. But damned if I could find any place that served them. I finally gave up and had something at a cafe called Buffet du Antiquite or something like that. The atmosphere was better than the food, and this is true for almost every place I ate in Québec province. I had a beer with lunch.

I felt very sleepy after such a big meal. I dozed on a park bench for about 30 minutes. Then I got up and wandered around… more sightseeing until around 6:30 I stoped into the Hotel Frontenac’s bar, the St. Laurent, for a vodka martini. Reminded me a bit of the Waldorf in NYC, except a better view.

 

The martini put me in a strange mood, and I had a lot of stuff on my mind as I watched the fortifications at dusk. A harmonica player was doing a sad french number. I took the bus back home, thoroughly satisfied with the day.

 

Day Fifteen.

Québec to St. Jean-Port-Joli.

Slept late at the dorms and didn’t get out of there until 10am. Hit up the coffee depot at the mall and tried o wait out the rain. Finally got on the road at 11am and took some pictures of Québec from the south shore.

Québec from Levis

Québec from Levis

My day off must have done some good after all because I made excellent time all morning and had 50 miles knocked out by 3pm. The Route was mostly paved, basically just riding the shoulder of 132 the whole way. So that didn’t hurt.

Kept running in to Silvano and Paola all day. Probably we should have rode together but I didn’t mind going solo. It rained off and on throughout the afternoon, occasionally it poured. I took shelter a few times…It never lasted that long.So far I’ve been pretty lucky with the weather.

The widening Fleuve-de-St.-Laurent

The widening Fleuve-de-St.-Laurent

Did about 80 miles today. I wanted to camp sauvage and save some scratch but I couldn’t find a good place. Eventually I just gave up and went back to Camp Demi-Lieux in St. Jean-Port-Joli and got a really choice spot, just on the banks of the St. Lawrence and with a great view of the sunset at the base of a cliff.

Sunset on the Fleuve

Sunset on the Fleuve

The trip sometimes feels like a bit of slog, but it’s calm, cool evenings like this that I came for.

Day Sixteen.

St. Jean-Port-Joli to Trois Pistoles.

Sunrise on the Fleuve

Sunrise on the Fleuve

Awoke to sunlight spilling over the cliff. It was a sunny-but-chilly morning, around 61 degrees. Packed up camp, ate a small breakfast (bagel + mineola) and was out on the road before seven.

Route 132 was very quiet and I was reminded that mornings had always been the best parts of the trip, whether I rode through farmland in the sun or mountains in the fog, the main thing is that it’s just you, the wind in your ears and the bike silently slipping by while everyone else is asleep.

A popular spot to sleep.  Just after dawn.

A popular spot to sleep. Just after dawn.

After 12 or so miles I stopped at a Tim Horton’s for coffee and a donut. I don’t know wy, but the Québecoise really love their Tim Horton’s. They’re everywhere, and they are always busy. The coffee kicked in and the 80 or so miles from yesterday that I had been feeling all morning melted away. I was flying and kept up my usual pace from La Pocatiere through Riviere Ouelle, Saint Denis, Kamouraska, and Saint André.

Kamouraska

Kamouraska

Moose Crossing

Moose Crossing

Somewhere north of Riviere-Du-Loup

Somewhere east of Riviere-Du-Loup

The terrain here was spectacular. The mountains had been relatively distant in Chaudiere-Appalaches where I’d been the past two days. Now that I moved into Bas-St. Laurent, the mountains were directly to my right, the water to my left. And there was no gradual ascent- the plains butt right up against the cliffs and individual mountains rise out of the flat ground.

Off the beaten path.

Off the beaten path.

I was flagging as I pulled into Riviere-Du-Loup at 1pm, having about 60 miles on the odometer. That’s pretty good so I treated myself to yet another breuvage at Tim Horton’s and chilled for a couple hours.

The town was pretty suburban – your typical chain stores abound. I find these midsized towns are the worst to visit, but at least it’s easy to find supplies.

After picking up some edibles at IGA (not Maxi! Maxi sucks… no pret-a-manger.) I was feeling strong enough to do what I planned on being the last ten miles. I was planning on camping outside Cacouna, the next town over.

That’s not how things turned out though. Almost immediately outside Riviere-Du-Loup there was a flag-man. The road was torn up. He stopped traffic and I waited. After a couple minutes a tall guy with a loaded cycle pulls up next to me and says something in French. I reply in English and he translates – ‘The wind is nice.’ Which I notice is true, we’ve got a good tailwind. So we chat for awhile… (we’re being held an inordinately long time by the flagman.) His name is Herve, this is his first time in Québec too (He’s from Switzerland, the french part) and he’s going to Gaspé and back.

Finally the flagman gives us the go-ahead. The road is rough. Gravel and dirt, a little hairy but no worse than sections of the Route. I say, ‘That wasn’t so bad’ and part ways with Herve.

Trois Pistoles

Trois Pistoles

About half a mile down the road I see Herve walk his bike over some wet cement. The road is completely blocked to cars now and the only way through for us is through the active construction zone. We walk about 100 yards through the zone, past bulldozers and dump trucks… at times we’re forced to cut through people’s yards. Finally we clear the zone. Herve says, ‘Not so bad, eh?’ and waves goodbye.

The tailwind is so strong and I’m making great mileage without much effort. I decide to push on to the camp site at Trois Pistoles. By the time I pull in I have 95 miles on the odometer and 8 hours cycle time. That’s definitely a personal record.

Ready to camp.

Ready to camp.

I’m also dog-tired and tomorrow is going to be a lot of climbing, so bon soir, mes amis.

Day Seventeen.

Trois Pistoles to Sainté Flavie.

A lot of climbing today. Hard to believe I’ve been doing this 17 days. Slept late (til 7!) in the camp and took my time getting ready. Rode into Trois Pistoles and got a couple cups of coffee at a pretty amateur looking restaurant which I neglected to find out the name of.

The weather had started sunny but as I was ready to leave Trois Pistoles around 10am rain was threatening and little drops were falling. The wind was blowing hard to the east, which was good.

Parc National Du Bic

Parc National Du Bic

The rain never happened. The path I took, Le Littoral Basque, was marked as hilly on the map and it did not disappoint. It was a real fight but I finally made it to Saint Fabien and the worst of it was over. I celebrated with a breuvage. Then the road took me through “Parc National Du Bic”, a convergence of mountains and coastline. This was a really great trail. Steep at times but never killer and cool and shady through the forest. Plenty of stops along the coastline with great mountain views. Definitely the highlight of the day and highly recommended.

The only bad part was that the Route Verte has no signage in the park and the park trails themselves are poorly marked, so its easy to get lost. Which I did, a couple times, but really, the park was so nice I didn’t mind.

Rimouski

Rimouski

The park dumped me out about 15km west of Rimouski. More climbing along 132, but the wind remained strong and friendly. By the time I pulled into the city I was feeling really fried. I stopped at a subway to recharge my phone and myself, because I still have about 18 miles to Sainté Flavie. That’s the bad news. The good news is that I didn’t expect to get there until tomorrow, so I’m a day ahead of schedule. I am, however, physically paying the price. Hopefully tomorrow will be easier. I’ll officially cross over into the Gaspésie region tonight before I reach the campground. ***

Lighthouse outside Rimouski

Lighthouse outside Rimouski

Campground is a bit too strong of a word. It’s the back yard of a bed and breakfast literally right off the highway. But its cheap enough, I guess. The ride here was really nice. I was just riding along the beach as the sun went down over the river. The woman who runs the campground said the southern route through Matapedia valley was nicer, so that’s the way I think I’ll go. 7 days feels doable. Even after all today’s climbing I feel pretty strong. So tomorrow I say goodbye to the Saint Lawrence and head inland once more.

Day Eighteen.

Sainte Flavie to Lac Au Saumon.

I am camped (legally) in a park at Lac Au Saumon, just a few miles southeast of Amqui. There is what sounds like a dilly of a storm coming. Thunder, lightning, the works– moving in from the west.

Outside Amqui

Outside Amqui

I woke at the backyard of the Gîte in Sainte Flavie pretty late. Almost 8 before I got out of the tent. I guess that means my body is finally getting used to sleeping in a tent. Also that I was plumb wore out.

Heading south to Mont-Joli I got coffee at a Tim Hortons.

Holy shit. Some lightning just struck right behind me. Scared the pants off me. The weather up here is something else.

Ominous clouds

Ominous clouds

Anyway, after coffee I started south through the Matapedia valley. It was rough going at first. A lot of long, slow climbing and today has been one of the hottest days of my trip. I was pouring sweat for the first two hours. Finally, as I got to Sayabec, the terrain flattened a bit and the going was easier .but up til then I was having a hard time, honest.

In Sayabec there was only one bathroom and I had to go, but there was some kind of ride going on because I had to wait for three other cyclists first.

Finally reached Amqui around 2, I think, and ran into a guy with touring gear, Jean-Michel, and his girlfriend, Maude (pronounced ‘Mo’). They were doing three days around Lake Matapeia. He highly recommended Saguenay-Lac St. Jean. But no time on this trip, sadly.

At information touristiques they informed me that there was camping in Lac Au Saumon, that the may of Amqui really loves covered bridges, and that the most popular things to do in Amqui are salmon fishing and ATV.

The covered bridge I visited was pretty nice.

Covered Bridge in Amqui

Covered Bridge in Amqui

I stopped at Dixie Lee, a chain that advertises poulet pizza, and fruits e mer, and they had something on the menu called ‘croquettes.’ I understood this from the hostess’ description to be fried chicken, but alas, they were nuggets. Which I guess is a form of fried chicken.

Not very good nuggets, either. Not basing this on the Dixie Lee solely, but on my experience as a whole — if it ain’t breakfast, in Québec, it probably ain’t too good. I hope that the coming days prove me wrong.

The Eponymous Lac of Lac Au Saumon

The Eponymous Lac of Lac Au Saumon

After a couple hours in Amqui, I picked up supplies (read food) at Metro Plus and rode the thirty minutes to Lac Au Saumon. The only camping I could find were handpainted signs in a public park. The office was closed and locked and looked like it had been for awhile. A couple RVs are parked in the RV section, so I’m assuming it’s cool. I’ll let you know in the morning.

 

 

Day Nineteen.

Lac Au Saumon to Pointe-A-La-Croix.

One begins to see the advantages of a larger tent. I would like to be sitting comfortably at a picnic table as i write this but I have been forced by a swarm of tiny biting black flies to retire to my tent as its the only place they can’t get me. Do bugs just love me more than other people? Is it my lack of campfire? My extra sweaty shirt? Am I just a weiner? Must be some combination of the above.

Today was one of the best days so far. Camping at Lac Au Saumon was fine. Noboy bothered me. When I woke everything was wet an I quickly realized the entire town was shrouded in fog. It was pretty chilly (It was only 6am when I woke) but once I got moving it wasn’t bad, and I didn’t really mind because the fog was giving the morning an extra peaceful vibe.

I rode into Causapscal feeling pretty great and had ham, eggs, an coffee at a restaurant there. (St. Jean? I’m getting all these saints mixed up.) The coffee was especially important as I was pretty damp from my fog jog.

After breakfast the fog burned off pretty quickly but I was on a quiet country road for awhile and the sun hadn’t gotten fully hot yet, so still nice.

By the time I returned to Route 132 it had gotten hot, dang hot even, but I didn’t really much notice because here was where the route began to follow the Matapedia river.

The river is a wide, shallow, swift channel that runs from Lake Matapedia (back in Amqui) to the Baie Des Chaleurs (where Quebec and New Brunswick share a border.) The valley it runs through has tall green mountains on either side which are covered in big pointy evergreens, and which fall away toward the river with sheer black cliffs, all dripping towards the river.

For miles I followed this route in wonder…no houses, no buildings, just hwy 132 and a few dedicated salmon fisherman (and women). It is a nature preserve and one of the highlights of my trip. If I come back to Quebec, it will be here.
When I got to Matapedia (the town) I was sad to leave the valley but ready for a rest. I ate at the Motel Restigouches an I am sad to report that my meal was sub par. I had a smoked pastrami on rye– passable, but overpriced. The real wonder were the frites — batter-dipped!? At first I thought I got onion rings by mistake. Weird. The soup was a water beef and barley.

The dessaud however was pretty awesome. A chocolate cake with hot chocolate sauce liberally poured over it and a cold layer of ice cream in the center. A nice interplay of hot and cold. A+++.

By early afternoon the sun was murderously hot. I couldn’t bear to stan still in direct sunlight for more than a few minutes. But I did dry out my wet tent. Smart, always want a dry tent. Learned that the hard way.

The ride to Point-A-La-Croix where I am now camped was a short 22km and mostly painless. I definitely am noticing my legs lasting longer on hills before the pain, burning, lactic acid action starts up in the old muscles.

Since I got in to camp so early (around 4) I decided to take a quick ride back in to Point-A-La-Croix proper and check it out. Eh. I got some photos of the bridge to New Brunswick. Otherwise not too much to see.

Oh, one other interesting note. Within Point-A-La-Croix there is situated a small municipality, called Listuguj – they have discount cigarettes and indian artwork, just like in America. It’s a Canadian Indian reservation.