Riding in Quebec

"Bienvenue a Quebec," what the heck does that mean I thought while I rolled past the sign that welcomed me into Quebec. My French was very poor as I entered the province of Quebec, the only provinice in Canada where French is the official language, making me feel regretful that I never made much of an effort in elementary school french class to learn the language. Now after having learned pretty good spanish and little bits and pieces of other foreign languages I realized the importance of learning other languages. Also Canada is an officially bilingual country and I felt it as my duty as a proud and commited Canadian to try to learn its second language. Aswell Ive always thought that French Canadians are very interesting and ambitious people and I'd like to be able to interact with them like any others. And theres the undeniable fact that the girls from Quebec are really beautiful. Many Quebecois do speak english and most atleast speak some but I've always noticed that the french, from France aswell, way more than any other group of people prefer to speak French. Even if they all speak good English which excludes the non-french speaking people. So I had bought a french phrase book 1000 km back in Sault Ste. marie, Ontario to help me learn.

My first day in Quebec was a long one, I had woken up at 6 AM in my friend's house in Ottawa and left before 7. My plan was to ride long and hard following the breeze of the Ottawa river right to Montreal 200 and some km away. I found right away that there was a cycling route following the river that spent some time on safe and quiet highways and then some of wonderful concrete paths through pleasent forest. For lunch I stopped at a poutine shack for an extra large poutine. Poutine is a classic french Canadian meal of frenchfries covered in cheese and gravy, I know it sounds unhealthy and it is but for me my body would burn it up in no time while giving me an exorbient amount of calories to burn. Approaching Montreal from the north I had to ride on a carefully selected route through more than 40 km of urban lands before hitting the old center and finding my hostel. Tired after 205 km, my longest day so far, I relaxed and had an incredible nights sleep.

The hostel was very chilled out and comfortable. It was in a nice old building set around a cozy courtyard where in the evenings travellers from all around met and mingled over a bottle of wine or beer. The city of Montreal was full of history and character, a huge contrast from Vancouver where there is a limited old town but even that is barely a hundred years old. It felt very similar to Europe with its old buildings and narrow streets but not like any particular city; it seemed very unique. I was only in Montreal for 3 days but everyday I went for a hike or a bike up to the top of Mont Royal (230m), small but smack dab in the very center of the city offering beautiful views and a natural escape from the hustle bustle below. Every night I cooked a deliciuos meal and drank fine Quebec beers. One night I went out with a group to a bunch of bars to check out the scene but I definetly didn't give the night life the justice it deserved. I was planning to return to Montreal after reaching Newfoundland so after these quick days I saddled back up and headed out of town.

My ride out of town was following designated bike paths but ran through the industrial sector on the northern end of the island. The air that morning was hot and heavy. The air, humid and saturated with pollution from the billowing smoke stacks, stung my already sore eyes as I drifted through a hideous jungle of concrete, twisting pipes and soot stained chimneys. This encouraged me to push onwards and to escape out to the coast where I knew the air would be fresh again.

It was about 300km to Quebec City so I was going to do it in two days. Because of a late start I barely made 100km on the first day before pulling in to a town and trying to ask a man using my limited french if I could camp in his yard. It wasn't pretty but I got my point across and told him who I was and where I was from so he agreed to let me camp there. Success! My french was terrible but it was enough and much better than nothing.

That night storms came and went just I had expected they would due to the humidity of the day. As the rain pounded down on my little tent, interrupeted from totally soaking me only by the thin nylon sheet of my tent I felt fine. Confident in my tent and accustomed to so many of these nights I ignored the flashes of lightning that illuminated my tent and the shaking thunder that followed and I slept comfortably and peacefully through the whole night.

The next day was an enjoyable ride along north bank of the incredibly wide St. Lawrence River. I couldn't believe how wide the river was but after all it was draning a huge chunk of the continent infact the whole of Lake Superior now so far away was eventually streaming through it. Along the bank of the river I was following Le Chemin de Roi, the oldest road in Canada, which led right up to Quebec City, the oldest City in Canada. As I approached the city I passed through some scenic towns set high on hilltops, from where I could see what almost looked like mountains in the distance. The terrain was definetly gaining relief and I knew that the mountains were getting closer. I had a little bit of a mountain fix in Ontario but since leaving BC I was itching to see some real mountains, I wanted to climb to the top of one and be back in the sky above all the troubles and stress of the world below.

All the buildings were now so differnent here then in Western Canada, everything was in french. It seemed almost as if I was in another country, it was not the Canada that I knew, suddenly it occured to me that living in the west I hardly knew Canada. As I rolled into Quebec City I saw a peculiar sign that said "Welcome to Quebec City, The Nations Capital." Later I noticed that on the Quebec map all the Quebec Provincial Parks were called National Parks. This was a shock for me. I knew a little bit about the history of why so many people in Quebec wanted to seperate from Canada but I just can't understand why. After seeing so much of Canada and how beautiful it is and how beautiful Quebec is it would be a travesty to divide such an incredible expanse of land. Still I know its probably impossible for me to ever understand. I have met many Quebecois who were once Seperatist but after travelling across Canada had realized the greatness what this country is. IM sorry if I sound overly patriotic but this trip for me has been quite emotional with so much time to think while I ride and the things Ive seen and experienced has left me with a tottally enhanced appreciation of Canada.

In Quebec City I checked into the international hostel and took a long sleep. The next day I walked around and was amazed by the city. I was anxious to check out the city's fortifications as Quebec City has the best preserved Fortifications in North America. Quebec City is situated high on a hill above the St. Lawrence River, rising straight up from near the river level is the city walls which swing all the way around the old town up the hill right to La Citadell the fortress above town. I found the entire city incredibly beautiful and could entertain myself just by walking around all day long. My hostel was a very comfortable place and I was loving every day but one morning I woke up and I knew it was time to go.

I rode a very short day that day and gradually more the next day. I was then back at 150km a day and making my way out to the Gaspesie peninsula of Quebec. I was back on the ocean with fresh clean air in my face and always with the nostalgic scent of salt and sea weed. The mountains were just ahead, back in Vancouver while examining the map of Eastern Canada I noticed that some of the highest mountains in the east were relatively accesible and in the Gaspesie peninula of Quebec. These mountains are the northern reach of the Appalachian Mountain Range which stretche up from the Southern US states. Actually the Appalachian Mounain Range continues along the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean resurfacing again in Norway and Iceland. Back in Vancouver I said I would climb the highest Mont Jaques Cartier 1270 m the second highest in Quebec. I arrived in Parc de la Gaspesie after an incredible day with a wicked tail wind that pushed me up and down the beautiful coast mountains road hitting as fast as 73km/hour bombing down hills and then leaving the ocean and shooting straight up into the heart of the mountains. Finally after a long urban strectch I was back home in the mountains. Back in my element among bears, birds, empty forests of millions of silent trees. At the parks info center I payed 20 dollars for my permit to enter the park and to sleep in a the alpine mounatin hut. From there I began up a steep gravel road to the trail head where I stashed my bike and switched to hiking mode.

The hike took up and over the barren summit of Mt. Xabul 1170m where the wind blew fiercly and people ducked behind rocks to stop for a snack and enjoy the view. The mountain hut was not far and could be seen below the summit and just before the plateau climbed back up to the summit of Mont Jaques Cartier. Soon after I arrived at the hut and settled in. I spent the evening hanging around talking to the other hikers and enjoying some company. In the evening I was sitting outside on the picnic table watching the clouds come and go as they were driven hard by the powerful wind. It was very beautiful in the evening light and I began to think. Suddenly it all became clear to me, I felt an intense appreciation for what I had so far accomplished; to be there in the gorgeous alpine forest so far from home and having made it totally under my own power felt extremely rewarding. I knew I felt something that none of the other hikers there could feel. Then I thought I can't wait for tomorrow, how great is it that everyday after a long day I go to sleep excited and am thrilled for the next day. It seemed to be an indication of living a good life. How wonderful to have left the road and be back in nature, its always when Im sitting and thinking somewhere in a new forest that I have such revelations about life where I feel such intense rewards and satisfaction.

These mountains neither steep nor dramatic are known for the incredible wind that blows all year round. The result of the wind aswell as a lot of snow gives the relatively low in elevation plateaus and peaks a barreen tundra. At only 49 degrees north and 1100m high the landscape is void of life exept for the toughest and bravest shrubs. An arctic landscape at only 49 degrees north the same as Vancouver. The hike up to the top of Mont Jacques Cartier 1270 m was easy and not terribly exciting but very worth while to see such Alpine tundra. I was back on top of a mountain, not the sort of sky piercing rock that I'm accustomed to in BC but none the less with a far reaching view of the surrounding land in which I had come and where I was going.

Soon after I was back on the road pedalling up to the mountain pass and towards the other side of the Gaspesie Peninsula towards New Brunswick. All morning if felt like rain was iminent and once I hit the road I was heading straight into some very unappealing weather. Tthe rain began slowly so I put on another shirt and began ascending to the top of the pass. Very soon the drizzle picked up momentum as the sky darkened almost like the night. As I climbed higher and higher the rain started coming down in a torrent. In less than a minute the road turned into a gushing river and the sound of water was everywhere. Rushing, splashing, and streaming through me, I felt as if I was water. But warm and still climbing I didn't pause for a moment. Then right as I reached the summit of the pass a beam of light shot through from the clouds. It was still raining like mad but the sun shone through and in the valley below me appeared an incredible rainbow. The rainbow was shining raziliantly and backdropped by evil black clouds, golden reflections of the sun bounced off the road and the falling rain drops themselves shined individually like drops of liquid gold. Then the clouds passed and blue sky truimphantly took hold over the afternoon sky. I was soaked as if having just jumped in a lake but my down hill descent started and the wind quickly dried me.

Down in the valley I joined the beautiful river Cacaspedia and we headed meandering together through the calm winding valley for the ocean not so far away. I ended up camping on the bank of the river 25 km from its mouth into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. My spot was well off the highway on a tiny grass patch just big enough for my tent. I cooked my dinner while sitting on a rock that was protruding from the shore into the river but another rain storm came in forcing me to eat in a hurry under a sheltering spruce and then jump into my tent.

The next day while back on the ocean I stopped at a restaraunt for a nurturing breakfast full of protein and then stopped at a campground where I took my first shower in 5 days. Totally refreshed I had a nice days ride and I was at Point a la Croix where the bridge gapped over the water and into New Brunswick. I had high expectaitons heading into Quebec but my experiences both in the citys and in the nature had far surpassed them. My french was now much better, I could carry a reasonable conversation as long as the topics were basic and asking for directions was easy. All it takes is a little effort and will to learn, speaking just a little is so much better than nothing. It will help you travel and definetly the locals always appreciate it making for a more complete travelling experience. So off I was into the Maritimes, getting closer to my goal of St. John's, newfoundland but still so much to see and do as I was in no rush to finish.


Montreal

Quebec City and around

The Gaspesie Peninsula