After a good, rainless sleep I got an early morning in and was packed up by 7:45. Knocking on the door of the managers home, I confirmed that he was willing to drive me up to the highway. All good! He gave me a ride with the raccoon he had live trapped (to keep it from eating turtle eggs) and I skipped several very steep hills and about 10 km of riding. He unloaded me and the raccoon by the side of the highway, shook my hand and took off again. What a great guy, and I never got his name.
If I had known what awaited me, I may have tried to finagle a ride to Renfrew from him.
I started the day with an immediate climb up a 15% gradient slope. It was fairly short, but the harsh gradient really struck my legs with no chance to warm up. Unfortunately, this would be the first of four such steep hills of the day, with plenty of gentle climbs interspersed.
Ontario must have been trying to keep me from escaping. Too bad! By mid day I made it to the edge of the escarpment and began descending into the Ottawa River valley, hitting speeds of 72 km/hr on the last downhill.
Approaching Renfrew, the temperature climbed to 30-something in the shade, and I hit a section of road "construction", where the asphalt had been torn up and left that way. Fun times cycle touring.
After Renfrew, Ontario threw a few last curveballs at me, with a steep slope, no shoulder, and some very impatient drivers until I escaped across the river into Quebec.
Speaking almost no French, I tentatively rolled along smooth pavement into the first small town. Where everyone was speaking English. Not so bad then.
The increasing heat and declining shoulder made the last hour into town a bit unpleasant, but I made a stop to the grocery store for ice cream and settled in at the very nice municipal campground.
I chatted with some RV campers and met the mythical East to West bicycle tourist, overwhelming him with advice and warnings accumulated across 3 months of Canada cycling.
I ducked into the tent early to rest up for the next few days, which will take me through Ottawa, Montreal, and Quebec City in quick succession.
Despite clear skies at sunset, I was awakened in the night by distant peals of thunder. I lay awake, hoping the storm would pass me by, but no such luck. I heard it drift ever closer until out of almost a split seconds difference, a downright deluge erupted on my tent. Yup, another soaking wet tent to pack up in the morning. Who was it who said I've been really lucky with weather?
At least it wasn't raining when I woke up, but between the rain and the dew, it was a fairly damp breakfast.
As I hit the road towards Ottawa, I realized that my hard adventure through the saw blade hills east of Muskoka must have done some serious damage to my body. I was weak, light-headed, and it felt like my legs had been replaced with bars of rusted iron. I was surprised my knees didn't squeak as I tried to turn my pedals. Adding in the 100% humidity and it felt like I was trying to force my bike through a bowl of hot jello along a road with no shoulder. Yeah, I know I complain a lot on this blog, but cycle touring has many days where you wake up, feel like shit, everything sucks, and you still have to find the motivation to get on your bike.
At least today I am only going 75 km to Ottawa.
Eventually I found my way onto the Route Verte, Quebec's famed network of cycling infrastructure. I enjoyed fairly quiet and separated cycling for an hour or so until I l was led onto one of the most washboarded dirt roads I've ever seen. After that, I bailed out to the highway again, where I discovered a 2 meter wide paved shoulder. Hmmmmmm.
Unfortunately, I only got weaker and weaker as the day wore on. I had to take an early lunch at a convenience store about 20 km north of Ottawa.
I saw a gravel bike path down the hill on Google Maps and decided to give it a go.
It turned out to be a narrow, cobbly singletrack. I stuck it out for about 2 km, dodging rocks and branches until I got down to a lovely road that wound along the Ottawa River until I got to... Le Route Verte! From here on out though, it is a 100% separated, 100% paved path for cyclists only (and the occasional rollerblader).
A brief stop for a coffee break with the largest and best latte I have yet had and then I followed the RV all the way to Parliament Hill. Back in Ontario for the night. I was a bit overwhelmed by the crowds of tourists and close streets of the capital but managed to find some snacks and beer before meeting with another internet friend, Corey (Jusda) for a brief walk around the market and tacos.
Meeting my hosts for the night, Denis and
Susan, in the garage of their behemoth 28 story apartment building, I was directed to take my bike to parking level 4. To my surprise, it was four levels below ground. Parking my bike in the caverns below Ottawa, I took the elevator up to their apartment, where I accepted offers of a shower, laundry and dinner. The rest of the night involved watching a thunderstorm approach, chatting about the Yukon, and a safe, dry sleep in a bed. Bicycle tour luxury.
In the morning, I had some light breakfast while watching the rain slowly dissipate. I took the scenic network of bicycle paths across the river and then through Gatineau, where the Route Verte took me onto Highway 148, with light traffic and great shoulders.
Despite filling myself at dinner the night before, I was still a bit weak and hungry so around midday I stopped in at a casse croute for some poutine and practiced my pathetic French with the very accomodating server.
Full to the gills with a "medium" poutine, I felt very drowsy cycling on another hot, humid day along the River Ottawa. Luckily a Tims showed up just in time for a pick me up.
With my caffeine energy in, I cruised along the shoulder to Montebello, where I picked up some coleslaw, instant rice, snack cakes, and beer at the local supermarket. Yup, Quebec has all the essentials covered.
Then it was another short rip down the road to la Riviere Rouge, where I got a very pretty campsite for only 25$ (showers included). Things are finally becoming right again in the world.
My first night without a thunderstorm or rain of any kind, and with blue skies above the tent I lathered on the sunscreen. However, leaving the campground I was nearly immediately greeted by a thick wall of fog. Strapping on the blinking taillight for safety, I continued on down the road towards Montreal. Alternating between stretches of highway shoulder and Route Verte, depending on what seemed best.
With only 15$ in my wallet, I stopped in at Deux-Montagnes for a BMO atm visit and a stop in at the local patisserie, where I continued to butcher the pronounciation of french pastries.
Checking in with my host in Montreal, I hopped back onto le Route Verte and headed towards the large, intimidating city.
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