Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Riding Music


A friend of mine asked me about riding with an I Pod. In two words "it's great!". You get some noise attenuating earphones to lower the wind noise in your helmet, set the I Pod at mid range volume, and play your playlist. I put together a playlist for this ride that had about 5+ hours of music on it. I didn't agonize over selections, I just went through my library and made impulse selections. it worked great.

Here is the list:

AC/DC Thunderstruck
Amboy Dukes Baby Please Don't Go
Animals House of the Rising Sun
Anita Baker Giving You the Best that I Got
Band The Weight
Beach Boys Don't Worry Baby
Beach Boys Good Vibrations
Beach Boys California Dreamin'
Billy Joel New York State of Mind
Blind Faith Can't Find My Way Home
Blue Oyster Cult (Don't Fear) the Reaper
Bob Dylan Tangled Up In Blue
Bob Dylan Highway 61 Revisited
Bonnie Raitt Thing Called Love
Boston Don't Look Back
Bruce Springsteen Human Touch
Bryan Adams Summer of '69
Buffalo Springfield For What It's Worth
Byrds Eight Miles High
Canned Heat Going Up the Country
Cassandra Wilson I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry
Chicago Beginnings
Circus Maximus Wind
Counting Crows Mr. Jones
Cream Tales of Brave Ulysses
Crosby, Stills,Nash, Young Almost Cut My Hair
Deep Purple Hush
Dire Straits Sultans of Swing
Don Henley All She Wants to do is Dance
Doors L.A. Woman
Drifters Save the Last Dance For Me
Elton John Your Song
Eric Clapton Knockin' on Heaven's Door
Eric Clapton Wonderful Tonight
Eric Clapton Layla
Fleetwood Mac Go Your Own Way
Fleetwood Mac Say You Love Me
Foreigner Juke Box Hero
Glady Knight & Pips Midnight Train to Georgia
Gloria Estefan Always Tomorrow
Golden Earring Radar Love
Gordon Lightfoot Early Morning Rain
Grass Roots Let's Live For Today
Jefferson Airplane Comin' Back to Me
Johnny Rivers? Memphis
Lynyrd Skynyrd Free Bird
Mamas & Papas California Dreamin'
Moody Blues Tuesday Afternoon
Moody Blues Nights in White Satin
Procol Harum A Whiter Shade of Pale
Rolling Stones Angie
Rolling Stones Sympathy for the Devil
Ronny & Daytonas G.T.O.
Roy Orbison Cryin'
Ruby & Romantics Hello Stranger
Sade No Ordinary Love
Searchers Needles and Pins(a)
Shirelles Will You Love Me Tomorrow
Sly & Family Stone Dance to the Music
Steppenwolf Born to be Wild
Sugarloaf Green Eyed Lady
Temptations Papa was a Rolling Stone
Toby Keith As Good As I Once Was
Tom Petty Refugee
Tommy James Crystal Blue Persuasion
Traffic Dear Mr. Fantasy
Van Morrison Brown Eyed Girl
Ventures? Pipeline
Yardbirds For Your Love
Zombies Time of the Season

Monday, June 25, 2007

Home Stretch






From Maynard's, I headed south on Route 6/15 to Greenville, then west on route 16 to rejoin US201. A very pretty ride with mostly good roads. Then south on 201 along the Kennebec River, then south on Alt. 201 to 43 to Farmington. Alt 201 and Route 43 had just been repaved so it was a particulary nice ride through beautiful countryside. After a Dunkin Donut and ATM stop in Farmington, I headed west on Route 2 the main east-west route in this part of the world. what can I say? more nice scenery, passing north of Mt Washington and right into Vermont. many bikers out enjoying the day, which was a sparkler - clear, warmer and gusty.

The definite highlight of this leg of the trip was Bob's BarBQ in Bethel, ME. Bob is a well tattooed gentleman with a shaved head who, from his 60's era orange 20 foot travel trailer, sells some of the best barbeque I have ever had. The trailer is covered with magic marker tributes from previous customers and Bob's favorite line is "I'm not in it for the money". Judging from the quality of the food (even the beans and slaw were superior), I believe him, but judging from the number of people he served while I was there, he is raking in the cash. For the record, I had the beef brisket platter in "wild" seasoning - the other option is "mild". It was great!!

The rest of the ride was very pleasant, through beautiful scenery. In the last quarter mile of the ride, I was reminded of the words of famous traveler Dorothy, "there's no place like home". Here are a few pictures of my neighborhood.

Maynard's in Maine






When I was planning this trip, I had a little extra time at the back end, so I decided to head down into Maine and check out the Moosehead Lake, Maine area. Form the border, I headed down US 201. Right away, the moose factor reared it's ugly head. I had seen moose warning signs all along on this trip, but now there was a moose warning sign with flashing lights and some language to the effect that the moose were really in abundance for the next 15 miles. The sign even provided statisics on the number of moose collisions along that stretch. Okaaay. Well, I didn't see any moose on this stretch, although later on I did. When cresting a hill, I noticed a pick up about 200 yards in front hit the brakes, then noticed a moose, ambling alongside the truck (not in a straight line) just off the road. They are supposed to be unpredictable in their movements and this one certainly was.

My destination was Maymard's in Maine, an 80 year old fishing camp, in Rockwood, ME, on the Moose River, still operated by the Maynard family. It was right out of a movie set, complete with taciturn manager, big old main lodge filled with hunting and fishing trophies, a perky college student from Nova Scotia waiting tables, and tons of interesting memorabilia. I had a two bedroom cabin overlooking the river. It was rustic, but well equipped, including a TV, and best of all, a wood stove, which I used to advantage during the chilly night. After a fine dinner of (really thick) prime rib, I retired to my cabin to catch up on the Yankees (not good) and enjoy some single malt scotch from the duty free shop. After another good night's sleep, and another delicious breakfast, I departed. So let's total it up: A nice little cabin in a great setting, two great meals, tax, etc -- $67.00. my only suggestion on checking out was - "raise your prices!".

Ferry Ride





Saturday AM: I wake up early again after a good night's sleep, get the bike packed and head across the parking lot for breakfast. it is still very overcast and looking across the river I can see even thicker clouds and showers along the entire shore. After breakfast I move the bike down the hill to the bike queue and look for a place to read my book for a while (Oracle Bones, by Peter Hessler) a semi interesting take on putting modern China into a historical perspective.

A few more bikes join the queue: three blokes from the Boston area who have been on a long weekend ride around Quebec. Now they are heading to Bar Harbor,ME and then back to Boston area - nice fleet of bikes: a Suzuki V-Strom 1000, a purple Yamaha FJR, and a yellow BMW R1200GS. The V-Strom is packed with "supplemental gear" - GPS, radar detector and a handlebar mounted video camera being the most prominent. There is also a couple from across the river on a white Gold Wing returning from a two week trip around the US and Canada. We have a nice chat and share a coffee on the ferry. It has been said many times but bikers are a congenial bunch and the shared interest facilitates socializing. The ferry ride is uneventful. The river is very wide and beautiful and there is much interesting wildlife - a few more beluga whales, some seals, loons, etc. The ride takes a little more than an hour - it's still raining when we get back on shore, so after a gas stop, I decide to take the "interstate" to cover some ground quickly. The scenery is pretty if not noteworthy.

After about an hour I exit at Montmagny and take the back roads up over the hills toward the US-Canada border on US 201 south of St George. The rain has stopped and the gusty winds that usually signify the exit of a major weather system have taken over - it's fine by me. The road climbs out of the river valley and then goes - mostly straight south then west through forests where logging seems to be the only industry. I stop for lunch in a little neighborhood restaurant and press on. The border crossing in uneventful but there is a long wait while (I must say) a suspicious looking old van filled with people gets a thorough going over.

More Rain





I didn't leave Pointe des Monts until about 11:00 AM. The lighthouse museum was interesting but I was not anxious to get out in that rain. fortunately, I had a relatively short ride today - about 250 miles to St-Simeon, the terminus for the ferry to Riviere du loup on the south shore. It rained until the last 50 miles or so near Tadoussac. Here is a picture of the Hotel Tasdoussac (red roof) and the Auberge Sur Mer in St Simeon by the ferry dock.

Pointe des Monts






Pointe des Monts is a 19th century lighthouse (1830) located about 11 KM off the main road, now operated as a museum/inn/restaurant. Despite the rain it is magnificent – sitting on a little rock outcropping just offshore reached by a 200 foot wooden bridge. The accommodations are rustic but the setting and atmosphere are truly unique. The table d’hotel meal I just enjoyed included a delicious fish chowder, local lobster/snowcrab plate, rice pilaf with shrimp, dessert, etc – sort of a “death by seafood” kinda thing.

Oh, did I mention, Mr. Landry’s (innkeeper in Natashquan) father was the last lighthouse keeper at Pointe des Monts, and instrumental in its preservation.

Ok I am sleepy. Good night. Tomorrow it is on to St Simeon to meet the ferry to the south shore (Riviere du Loup) – then a quick swing down to Moosehead Lake, ME, then over the White Mts, then the Green Mts to be home Sunday night.

Day 6

I am awake by 5:30 AM and immediately look out the narrow old window to see what the weather looks like. It looks terrible. Thick fog. No, wait, that is just the condensation on the storm window. I get out of bed and walk across the hall to another room (I am the only overnight guest), which has a clear view out the window. Reality is not much better – thick, dark low clouds – light rain. I try to go back to sleep, and failing at that, I get dressed and go for a walk in the drizzle. It is hauntingly beautiful here. Several flocks of ducks mess around off the rocks – eiders I think. The sea is calm, the shoreline is classic north coast boulders and pine trees. There are a few small purple blue irises in bloom around the rocks, and on closer inspection, I realize that the place is covered with them. This will make a pretty wild scene in about a week or so. I take some more photos, but without enthusiasm. I am getting my first real dose of “I’d rather be home” feelings. I suppose I would feel differently if the sun were shining in a fresh breeze, but it’s not and I have another 250 miles to ride today. I scan the western sky for some reason to be optimistic about the weather. I don’t see one. Don’t get me wrong – motorcycling is wonderful, but it’s definitely better without the rain.

I reflect on the past evening and the meal. It was OK but the best part quite frankly was the pictures of the food that the lady showed me when I showed up. I am not too optimistic about breakfast. After walking across the bridge to check the bike and maybe find coffee, I return to shower, etc. When I go back downstairs at 7:30 another woman is there and indicates that breakfast is ready. I enter the dining room. There, on the corner table, almost dominating the room, is a phalanx of four giant cartons of Kellogg cereal, along with some 2% milk and half gallon glass bottles of apple juice and the old style orange juice “from concentrate”. My worst fears are confirmed. At my table is a basket of “muffins” in plastic wrappers. The kind that have preservatives as the lead item on the ingredient line. The lady comes over and asks me, as if it is some big deal, “would you like toast?”. A yes from me brings a follow up, “white or brown?” Her tone is full of expectation that I will be delighted that they are able to provide such culinary extravagances. I am not exaggerating, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that a few minutes later she emerged from the kitchen carrying a big dinner plate on which were carefully placed two pieces of brown toast. They are trying, but where is Mr. Landry and those marvelous breakfasts of the last few days?

In fairness, it is difficult to run an isolated small inn, especially at the beginning of the season. It seems that I will be the first guest of the year to open one of the cereal boxes.

The night's accomodation cost me $120 including the two meals. Thinking about it, about $40 of that is going for the unique “experience” of spending the night in this place. It’s probably worth it – and the mattress was good.

After breakfast, I go outside and check the sky again. Well, maybe it’s getting a little brighter in the west. Maybe.

I take the tour of the lighthouse museum. It is pretty interesting and you get to climb to the top. I am the only person there.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Leaving Natashquan





I leave Natashquan around 7;30 AM. The plan is to ride about 350 miles to a place called Point des Monts, just west of Baie Trinite. Pointe des Montes is the location of one of the earliest lighthouses on the St. Lawrence, which is now being preserved as a museum. The lighthouse keeper's house is now a small B&B/restaurant.

The clear skies last until about 10:30 when it starts raining. It will continue raining until about 3;00 the next day. Riding in the rain is not as much fun as riding in good weather, but it'd doable with proper gear. I had hoped to fill in some of the blanks from the rapid ride out. I took more pictures and poked around some villages I had raced by. For example, upon further exploration, Havre St Pierre turned out to be a fairly nice little port town, the the Fort Apache of my first impression.

But, you can't sugar coat it, the ride back to the west was not as much fun as the ride east.

The Nordic Express





Wednesday night I set the alarm for 5:00 AM. The plan is to get up, get the bike ready, go see the Nordik Express before it departs, have breakfast at 6:30, then hit the road early. At 5;00 AM I am already up. It’s sunny and cloudless again. That’s good. I finish packing, put the bags on the bike, and ride over to the docks. The Nordic Express is there in all her “glory”. She’s an interesting boat – all business – an ice breaker hull, stocky lines, a midships area for passenger accommodations that looks like it contains some staterooms, and the stern of the ship is rigged for containers, including a tall crane that looks like it was lifted from some construction site, not purpose built for the ship. Motor vehicles are put in these steel frames that resemble side less containers, then hoisted aboard, as are standard containers, some of which I saw being packed with groceries off an 18 wheeler yesterday. I notice the small fire truck that was parked at the auberge yesterday. Apparently it is for one of the isolated villages. There were some Innuit families boarding with the old Grand Ma and little infants.

Another great bike trip would be to ride to Natashquan, then put the bikes on the Nordic Express, see the other villages, then get off the ferry on the northern tip of Newfoundland, do Newfoundland, then take anther ferry to Cape Breton, etc, etc

The End of the Road




Route 138 ends about 5 miles east of Natshqan on the banks of the Natashquan River, which forms a pretty significant economic barrier to building the road further east. a ruuty gravel track heads north from this spot a few KMs to a few fishing camps.

Day 4: Hanging Out in Natashquan





This is the day to take a break from riding. I will explore Natashquan and just hang out, then start heading back on Thursday morning. I get up around 5:30, putter around, then have breakfast downstairs at around 7:15. It’s good – eggs over easy, sausage, homefries, etc, well prepared and served. Mr. Landry, the innkeeper does a good job. After breakfast I ride over to the docks and check out the action. There are about 5 commercial fishing boats at the dock. None are from Natashquan. I think they are crabbers (snow crab) from the look of the circular pots. There are also some longshoreman moving product around. I learn it’s in anticipation of the arrival of the Nordic Express, an all purpose ferry/freighter that services Natashquan and the villages to the east, none of which are accessible by highway to the rest of the world. Once a week this boat makes the rounds of these villages bringing everything and everyone (there are some seaplanes going there as well but the Nordic Express is the main show. It arrives in Natashquan at 4:00 AM tomorrow and leaves at 7:00 AM. I think I will go see it. After leaving the dock I putter around a bit (lube my chain, adjust mirrors, try to find a working cash machine, do laundry, etc. Eventually I take a nice walk on the local beach, which starts from behind the general store. Nice beach, but I am not a beach person. But I do find a nice looking bar/restaurant right on the beach and decide to come back for lunch. The food is very good and inexpensive. I go for the special beef bourgignon which is excellent. I decide to come back later with my book and read on the deck and enjoy the atmosphere and a beer. Very mellow and very friendly accomodating people. Rod Stewart is singing old standards on the sound system which reminds me of Nancy – nice thoughts.

I come back and read for a while, then take a nap and miss dinner, which is just as well, since I have already eaten enough.

I am a lot less motivated for the ride tomorrow. Maybe it’s because there may be rain, although the sky is still cloudless, or maybe it’s because the ride does not hold the excitement of experiencing new places – like the ride out to Natashquan. I decide I will focus on filling in the gaps that linger from the ride out. Looking in more depth at places I just glimpsed briefly in the dash to get here. That helps, but rain means a longer, sloppier ride.

Natashquan impressions: A nice little village, beautiful setting, all the houses are well kept, Local French and Indians seem to mix very freely and there is no evidence that one is an underclass. Modern conveniences abound – cable TV, ATMs, internet?? Strong sense of community and community pride, and of their history. Canadian bi-lingual policy doe not seem to extend to these French outposts (no English). It is far away, but not as isolated as the next villages to the east, which do not have highway access.

Day 3: On to Natashquan






I awoke at around 5:00 AM to a bright sunny sky and promptly fell back to sleep. At 6:30 I tried it again and this time it stuck. The bike was still there under its cover, always a good sight, just outside the night manager’s window, Shower, repack the cases, load the bike and I'm on my way. I figure I’ll get some breakfast a ways out. The first half hour or so is pretty boring, except that it feels good to be roaring along on an unknown road. I pass a Toyota after about 10 minutes. It turns out this is the only vehicle I see going either way for about 1/2 hour.

After about a half hour of mostly straight, mostly flat, total pine trees, the road climbs and twists its way up another headland along the ocean, climbing past rock outcroppings and nice waterfalls emerging about 150 feet above the water, with meadows dropping off steeply to bluffs? over the water. There is a road crew up ahead so I slow way down and take a moment to glance down at the water. Wouldn’t you know it? There is all its glory is a whale, very near the shore, about 40-50 feet long with a small dorsal fin. I decide to stop and watch a bit. The whale surfaces again and again. As I scan across the wider water I notice several other whales. I watch them for about ten minutes then hit the road.

After a while the “50 KM ahead” signs announce my arrival at a village – Sheldrake, a small fishing village in another beautiful setting. There is a little gas station/market so I decide to fill up and find some breakfast. I also reach into the topcase for the heated jacket as it is bloody cold – sunny but cold – a reminder that I am pretty far north. The store has a “limited menu” so I settle for a big chunk of “carrot-pineapple” cake, which I eat sitting outside watching the ocean. It is pretty good. Then it’s back on the bike, winding my way through the village and out into the great unknown.

Now, the terrain is flat again, but in a totally surreal environment. We have the ubiquitous exposed granite but basically it is flat with very sparse vegetation, scrubby pines and moss. This continues for miles, as I am cruising by at 80+ mph, which despite all the undulations bumps and frost heaves, feels entirely secure. A mile or so of straight, then a bend then another straight. All I can think is that I’m on location for another Lord of the Rings movie – or video game. This scenery is punctuated by occasional river crossings and the realization that on my right side, the ocean is a few hundred yards away and visible. To the left (north), this scenery goes to the horizon, where some mysterious hills rise. I didn't take too many pictures here because I can’t figure out how to show the scenerey in a remotely interesting photo, and I don’t feel like stopping on those soft (very soft) looking shoulders. Later I realize that I could have parked my bike in the middle of the road, gone for a ten minute walk, and no one would have passed by.

I notice the terrain is changing again. The granite undulations are gone and now it’s really flat. Looks like a giant bog, to the north as far as the eye can see. Small ponds (puddles) of standing water are everywhere, a few scrubby pines, but basically a big bog. Again –very surreal – especially as one flies by. …. For miles and miles …. And miles.

I’ve got my I Pod (I broke down and bought one for this trip) going with sound attenuating earphones. I put about 60 songs in a playlist for the trip and in this section of the ride the I-Pod randomly selects the following:

Thunderstruck AC/DC
LA Woman Doors
Baby Please Don’t Go Amboy Dukes
Don’t Fear The Reaper Blue Oyster Cult
Hush Deep Purple
Free Bird Skynnard
Juke Box Hero Foreigner
Sympathy for the Devil Stones

Well, that’s a pretty good moment to be in: zipping along at 80-90 mph on a crystal clear day, in a surreal world with your heated jacket oozing BTUs and your I-pod serving up some nice riding music - and absolutely no traffic - at all. And the Multistrada is eating up the very less than perfect road surface.

Then reality sets in – A Moose warning sign -- for 15Kms, so I back it down to 65-70 and press on. A sign indicates Havre St Pierre to the right so I head in to check it out and top up the tank. You ride through this gaudy wooden gate – sort of lighthouse themed, with some message about 150 years of history. The gate, intended I am sure to attract tourists and show civic pride, gives the impression of a stockade. Beyond the gate is vaguely reminiscent of Mad Max – real modern day wild west. Nothing specific – just a feeling. I gas up and leave.

Back on the road, it more of the same, except now the road is lined with Larch trees, evergreens with feathery light green needles – for miles. Then, back into the Shield – granite, riding near the water, a few cute fishing villages, some bridges over some more awesome rivers --- then NATASHQUAN!!! The name has an almost mythical quality after 3 days and about 900 miles. In reality, it is a nice little fishing village in a pretty setting. There are some pretty decent tourist services – two or three restaurants, a few B&Bs and the nice inn I am staying at. Air is cool and very clear and crisp, almost fall like. I check in, then go to find some lunch. Behind the (nice) general store, there is some kind of food place – not a exactly a restaurant. Inside there is a counter and an older woman making what look like a cross between seafood pizzas and pot pies. One of these with lobster shrimp and scallops, about twelve inches in diameter, is $10 Cdn. I sort of understand that it will take her about 30 minutes to bake, so I go for a walk along the beach out to these old fishing shacks – picturesque. When I return she has the “pizza” and invites me to the ice cream parlor section, which overlooks the water - to eat. It’s delicious and the view is perfect!

After lunch I ride out to the true “end of the road” on the banks of the Natashquan River, a big time river that, at the moment, creates a barrier to further easterly highway development. I later learn that the Canadians have started building a road easterly from the villages on the other side of the river – and the Canadians version of the “bridge to nowhere” is in the works. At the moment, these villages are not linked to the rest of Quebec except by a ferry that arrives weekly. This is the reason I saw only two 18 wheelers on the entire 260 mile ride today.



That’s all for now.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Some More Stuff





It's now Tuesday morning. The sun rose before 5:00 AM and there will be almost 17 hours of sunlight today (I'm getting pretty far north). Some other tidbits from the last few days:

Sunday, the bike passed the 10,000 mile mark in St Isadore, about 25 miles south of Quebec City (see silly photo from yesterday)

We saw a small pod of Beluga whales while taking the free ferry across the Saguenay River. Froom the signs, it would appear that whale watching is an important industry in that region, especially this time of year, when many whales come to the St. Lawrence estuary to mate.

Virtually the entire route yesterday was posted with moose warnings - As I got tired late yesterday on the flat, straight forested part of the road, I found myself yearning for a nice big 18 wheeler to tuck in behind so I didn't have to be quite so vigilant to these massive creatures.

Here are some more photos from yesterday, included a self portrait taken while waiting for the Saguenay ferry

Natashquan is within reach, only another 260 miles.

First Two Days: Charlotte to Sept-Iles










Day 1

It’s about 9:00 PM on Sunday night (Day 1). I just came back from an OK dinner in charming Baie-St-Paul, about 65 miles east of Quebec City. The day began at about 5;45 AM and I was on the road at 6;20, having packed and done final check of the bike Saturday afternoon. The weather was cool but pleasant with some high broken clouds – the weather report said a chance of showers. I figured they would be late day-evening showers and t-showers so I hoped to miss them. Ron and Reg Boucher planned to Ride with me to Orleans, stopping for breakfast along the way. It turns out Reg couldn’t make it so Ron and I left at about 7;00 AM. The ride started with a quick blast up I-189/I-89 to pick up Route 15, a pleasant 2 laner with mostly sweeping turns as it heads northeast from Essex Junction. We stopped for a nice breakfast in Johnson, then headed up Route 100, with a few more twisties and bumpier than 15. Then a 5 mile hitch on VT 58, a surprisingly nice stretch so far into the boonies. We gassed up in Orleans, then went our separate ways, Ron on a swing up by Lake Willoughby, another of Vermont spectacularly beautiful spots, and me up I-91 to the Canadian border.

The border crossing was uneventful but a few miles into Canada it started raining, and continued raining, with periods of heavy rain, for about the next three hours.

[Note: I fell asleep, now it is Monday night and I am in Sept Iles , about 350 miles from Baie-St-Paul. I will try to catch up]

I had the good sense to pull into a rest area as soon as I felt a drop and put on my rain gear, in this case a set of old foul weather gear in red, but not Ducati Red. It wasn’t bad riding in the rain and I think the fact that I was on a lightly traveled interstate highway contributed to my sense of comfort in the rain. The only problem the rain contributed to was my missing the exit for the Sherbrooke bypass. Thus, I came to ride right thru suburban strip and downtown Sherbrooke. On top of that I wasted time taking another wrong turn. When I finally got clear of Sherbrooke I was ready for a break, and found some edible (and hot) chicken soup at a little roadside dive. I was on Route 112, a fairly direct route from Sherbrooke towards Quebec City. I didn’t see much because it was raining but Thetford Mines did make an impression. I guess they have one of the world’s largest open pit (coal?) mines there. I was cruising along in heavy rain, when all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of these massive looming vegetation-less hills (mountains?) which rose up for several miles on either side of the road. Residue from the mining operations I guess. I’ve seen evidence of mining before (Scranton area) southern Vermont slate, etc, but this tops them all in terms of scale. Later, the rain lets up and the sun begins to poke thru – must be a big shot of Canadian air because it’s much cooler and very windy. I leave Rte 112 and pick up I-73 towards Quebec City. It’s a limited access highway but only two lanes at this point. Soon it is four lanes, then six as it makes a bee line for The Saint Lawrence and Quebec City and another “riding first” for me – riding through an urban area on expressways. I must admit that when planning this trip I tried to avoid Quebec City for this reason. I have rarely ridden on interstates let alone in urban traffic. Well, at least this would be Sunday afternoon.

There is a nice suspension bridge carrying I-73 over the Saint Lawrence and there was pretty heavy fast moving traffic. For some reason, at this point in the ride, I felt very comfortable in this new situation and managed to get myself on Route 138 east of Quebec without any problems. I regret not driving through downtown Quebec or stopping in the old city, but that will have to wait for another trip. The road east of Quebec runs right along the river and is pretty commercial for the first twenty miles or so, til you get past St Anne. Then it gives way to beautiful countryside with the mighty St Lawrence always in the picture or nearby. Right away one is confronted by the Canadian Shield – A massive granite formation (all of northern Quebec and Ontario) which for hundreds of miles runs all the way to the St Lawrence. In the Charlevoix region, it is less obtrusive, with the dramatic headlands broken frequently by rolling hills and fertile valleys, and all sorts of cute colorful farmhouses, little villages with their churches, and weekend homes many which emulate the old farmhouses. Baie-St-Paul is a larger village of this type, looking a bit like a European farming center that has morphed into a tourist town. Last night I stayed at a beautiful B&B just outside town. The proprietors spoke no English but with my slight memory of school French we got by. They even let me put the bike in their garage ($75 CDN with a great breakfast).

Day 2

East of Baie-St-Paul Route 138 heads inland for a stretch, so when I left this morning, I took Route 362, which follows the St Lawrence shore for about 30 miles before rejoining Rte 138 at La Malbaie. It’s a wonderful romp up and over some beautiful hills. After La Malbaie. Things get progressively wilder and once you cross the Saguenay River at Tadoussac, it begins to resemble the frontier. It is not an exaggeration, for most of the route out to Sept Iles, to say that most of the evidence of civilization consists of little villages strung out along the road, and power lines from the big hydro plants. To the north of the highway, the wilderness, meaning huge granite hills and outcroppings and pine forests, comes right to peoples’ back yards. The highway goes up down and around this granite, past many crystal clear little lakes and ponds, and over countless rivers and streams cut in the stone. The mouths of these rivers have no sandy deltas. They are rushing streams until they touch the estuary. You see many spectacular vistas – to the south, numerous scenic coves, headlands and river mouths, frequent views across the broad St Lawrence to the south shore and its mountains. The granite is interspersed with stretches of sandy expanse, in some places reminding me of a moonscape with scrub pines – leftovers from the glaciers, I guess. After Baie Comeau, the road becomes pretty straight through endless stands of evergreen trees, not exciting riding, but the journey takes on a “because it’s there” feeling at this point. I kept thinking of Long Way Round.

The net effect is to think how insignificant is the impact of man on such a vast wilderness. This was my recurring thought, despite the huge power lines, hydro dams and an occasional pulp mill or aluminum smelter. In a way, not unlike I imagine parts of Alaska – but only a few hundred miles from the northeastern US.

Other stuff: The bike is GREAT! Although short stretches of the road have been recently improved, much of the ride today was on 60s era vintage pavement, with 10-12 foot wide lanes, NO hard shoulder, just this sandy gravel mix which, based on the deep rut marks, had the consistency of beach sand. Thus, for long stretches there is simply no margin for error. These sections also provide an endless stream of cracks, bumps, old frost heaves etc. There are plenty of interesting curves and up/down portions. Oh, and the traffic, particularly the 18 wheelers usually loaded with logs, giant pipe, or heavy construction equipment, drives between 70-85 – all the time. On one tighter than expected sweeper, I was somewhat disconcerted to watch a fully loaded automobile carrier barreling towards me with some of its wheels almost off the road. Hmmm? Anyway, the Multistrada handled these roads in excellent fashion providing a fairly comfortable and very secure feeling ride. And this is with about 80 lbs of extra bags and gear.

Eric at BCM – GREAT JOB tuning the suspension!

I’m getting sleepy so that’s all. Tonight I am in a fleabag motel in Sept Iles ($75 CDN with internet access and surprisingly, a good Italian restaurant). Tomorrow, a 240 mile ride to Natashquan and, literally, the end of the road.