An early morning in the fjords of Saguenay and I was feeling even more worn out than the day before. The fatigue was inscribed in my marrow, and although I had only 75 km to go to St. Simeon, Google Maps predicted almost 800m of climbing. I dug in deep and hit my first hills right out the gate. It wasn't an enjoyable day, and despite a tailwind I spent most of the day struggling up hills, pumping my greatly overworked legs up steep hill after hill.
The downhills were negligible, the road condition decent, and the scenery nice, but barely noticed beyond the suffering. I spent the morning running on sheer willpower and fumes.
I finally made it to St. Simeon around 11 am, and was greeted by a chilly wind off the St. Lawrence, with a strong scent of sea and brine. Passing a cyclist resting on the roadside, I found the breath to yell, "Don't go to Saguenay!"
I dropped some money on fast food and an ice cream sundae and settled in for the 1.5 hr wait before the ferry departure. Thw sun came out as I was eating lunch, and distracted by my extreme fatigue and an overly enthusiastic cyclist, I left my trusty little knife laying around somewhere. That little guy has stuck it out through the entire country, seeing service at least once or twice a day. I only hope that whoever found it treats it right.
The crossing was uneventful, and I refrained from buying any onboard coffee or refreshments, as I knew they would be cheaper at the IGA and Tims in Riviere du Loup.
Once across, I was greeted with a howling 45 km/hr headwind. Hmmm, I could have sworn someone telling me the wind is usually from the west on Gaspesie.
After wearily checking into camping, I dragged myself up another couple of hills to the aforementioned Tims and IGA.
Side note: Riviere du Loup has wrested away the crown of Most Potholed Streets in Canada from Winnipeg. An amazing amount of potholes plague the streets of RdL, and eventually I gave up and rode in the middle of the eastbound traffic lane. The autos seemed used to it, as no one honked or otherwise accosted me.
The temperature continued to drop as I made dinner, and I even put on a sweater before eating and dragging myself into bed at 8 pm to recover. No more hard hard days for me I have decided. Time to rest, recover and enjoy the last 2 and a half weeks of cycling.
The morning brought a very autumnal chill, complete with grey skies and chattering crows. I milked the last few drops from my oldest gas canister cooking breakfast, add that to the shopping list.
Unsure about the chill in the air, I opted for the armsleeves.
As I rode along, it seemed obvious from the fading greens and initial dusting of leaves on the ground that summer was soon to be over. Oh right, and the cold headwind too. The sleeves stayed on all day.
And what a long day!
I was still pretty bricked from my Laurentians adventure, and with a steady headwind, I made sure to keep my pace low. Even plodding along, climbing long, gradual gradients, I made it to Rimouski by 2 pm. Despite my fatigue and the still-blowing wind I opted for another 30 km to make it a full 135 km for the day.
Not quite an easy day. Oops again.
In Rimouski, I topped off my stove fuel and soap for the last time on the trip.
A pretty ride along the river but I was gassing hard. I had to shut down a few overly enthusiastic question askers today when I became too tired to even attempt cross-language communications.
Just before checking into camping, I stopped at a meadery and grabbed a smaller bottle as a brief departure from dinner beer before realizing I did not bring a corkscrew...
No worries! There are always rusty screws laying around campgrounds, and with a pair of leatherman pliers, I soon had mead in my belly. Too tired to do laundry, I instead opted for a feast of rice, trail mix, and nougat with sips of mead, all while watching the crimson bauble of the setting sun dip laconicly into the St. Lawrence.
Alls well that ends well. And tomorrow will actually be an easy day, promise. Maybe.
The sunrise wasn't as gorgeous as the sunset, but the air promised another crisp and comfortable day on the bike. Still feeling pretty bushwhacked so I topped off my coffee with a shot of mead.
As I was packing up, another cyclist at thw campground, Jeanine, came up and asked if I wanted to share canping that night. I made a tentative committment to share a site at Riverside Camping in Matane, only 75 km distant.
With that I set out, and since the sun was shining I kept the sleeves in storage but still had a few brisk moments in the shade.
Even with such a short ride to Matane, I was feeling pretty tired and unmotivated. Getting into town around 12:30 (late start this morning), I indulged a week old craving for fried chicken before hunting down the campground. I almost gave uo when, 100m from the turn off, I came to the bottom of a rather steep hill.
Mentally telling myself to stop being such a big baby, I scrambled up and coasted down the other side, where I procured a rather nice spot in the trees.
Going to work on chores, I was dismayed to see the sidewall on my relatively new tires was cracking. This could be an issue, as there is no bike shop available for severral hundred kilometers. I decide to risk it and rotate the tires anyways. Exhausted, trying to reseat a bead, I pop an inner tube. At this moment, a man who barely speaks English decides it is a good time to wander over and play 20 questions about my ike tour. As I am very tired, dirty, trying to fix a flat on tires that may fail in the next few days in the middle of French-speaking nowhere, I am obviously not keen on chit chat.
I try to brush him off but he insists on hanging around. When I start swearing, grunting and slamming tools around in frustration, he finally catches on and takes off. Sorry guy, you really have incredibly bad timing for social moments.
Eventually, everything is as fixed as possible. I relax under a free, hot shower and begin dinner. Jeanine rolls up and offers to split camping fees. I crack my new book and start a load of laundry.
Deep breath.
I am going into the hills again tomorrow and my tires may still explode, but at least I am not so angry anymore.
Small comforts. Another day of riding tomorrow and I had a productive afternoon.
Tomorrows another day.
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