Run for the Hills - Jonquiere to La Malbaie

I'm taking the long way back to Quebec. It is 300 km of hills followed by 30 km of flat.

This way to Tadoussac, and this way to Jonquiere!


The scene in Chicoutimi


Going up!


Whew! Made it!


What goes up must go down...


Animals.




Like a mirage, the perfect respite for a tuckered cyclist!




I set up camp in Tadoussac. Overnight, the skies opened up and it began to pour. Luckily, I didn't set my tent in the local minimum.


I had to teardown in the rain. Everything got soaked to the bone - except the camera - it seems to have spent the night swilling beer at the local pub.


More ups and downs (the ups outweighed the downs at this point, I shall have you know). Thunderstorms persisted throughout the day, making it impossible to dry anything out.


A welcome sign






With a little extra to spare, I an staying at a hostel for the next two nights to rest and dry out for the last 100 km of hills before Quebec.

Quebec to Campbellton

Distance traveled over last 6 days: 544 km
Total distance: 6595 km

I had spent a couple rest days, but finally, I was ready - except for one thing: in the morning, before departing from Quebec for the south shore of the St. Laurent, I stopped at Option Velo to true up my rear bicycle wheel. I also got a general inspection & maintenance done on my bike. Max, my host in Quebec, accompanied me and directed me to the ferry which crosses the river over to Lèvis.

The ferry ride is spectacular. From the water, you get what is possibly the best view of Chateau Frontenac. From here, I finally started to grasp how large the castle is. Then, looking down the river to the citadel, I realized what a formidable fortification this must have been when General Wolfe was trying to capture Quebec. The sheer cliffs and ominous walls safely guard the fortress from a direct attack. Turning around and looking to the south shore, you can see the remnants of the British fort located in Lèvis.

The Chateau as seen from the St. Laurent

The Citadel behind the cliffs, and the Chateau

 Riding the south bank of the St. Laurent is just as pleasant as the north bank. Like the north, it is populated almost everywhere, with lots of small towns along the way. Despite strong headwinds of 30-45 km/h for a couple of days, the cycling was beautiful and enjoyable. The wind that came from the north-east was cold, which helped offset my body heat and solar radiation during the noontime, but in the evenings, it got chilly if I wasn't in my tent!

Pretty sights all along the way

I spent a couple of nights stealth-camping in small towns along the way: Cap-Saint-Ignace and Sainte-Andrè. The latter bordered on untamed territory popular with mountain hikers; I was only awoken by the howls of pack-wolves three times that night!

The wild is not far away!

Onwards I traveled to Rimouski, and as I made my way, I started to observe the widening of the St. Laurent. In Rimouski, I stayed at a mediocre hostel to recharge my electronics, shower, and get a comfy rest. In the morning, I had to stop at a bike shop as I had picked up a broken spoke 10 km earlier. As I made my way out of town, I cycled past a show & shine, and then along the seawall. Finally, the smell of the ocean was in the air. Unfortunately, I would be leaving it in preference of the shorter inland route through Gaspesie via highway 134.

Cycling along the Rimouski seawall

This quiet highway, which traversed through sections of hilly terrain, offered some lovely panoramic views full of depth and perspective. The route apexed near the end of the day at Matapédia Lake. Day one of the two-day jaunt through Gaspesie was sunny until my destination in Amqui. I took some time to view the pretty gardens and pond, but soon the weather changed. I ran out of time while choosing a place to stealth camp, and had to take shelter under the library for about a half hour while a thunderstorm ran its course through the area. A brief respite in the rain gave me enough time to set my tent at the back of library, in a dark and wooded area beside a stream. I cozied up for the night at the back of the library, thinking I would be alone...

Beside the pond in Amqui

A couple hours later, I was awoken to some rowdies in their truck. It was a Saturday night - not necessarily the best day to stealth camp. Obviously bored and intoxicated, they drove their truck onto the grass and buzzed by me a couple of times. Needless to say, that got me pretty worried. They were still loitering around nearby, and from what was teaching my ears in my tent, probably still drinking or smoking. I didn't know how far they might want to take things. Also, they were Francophones: I wasn't prepared to understand their banter or even communicate with them, so I decided to call the police.

Thankfully they left on their own accord soon afterwards, before the cops showed up. The police were very understanding, and reassured me that they would patrol the area periodically throughout the night. I was able to settle down and get a good rest after that.

The second day through Gaspesie was rainy the whole way. I had my sights set on the town of Matapédia, where I thought I might find a restaurant or coffee shop, but to my dismay there was nothing of the sort. Thankfully, the trip to the next town was short: less than 20 km into Campbellton, NS. Lucky for me, there was a McDonalds where I could dry off, and, for the first time in my trip, I succumbed to the lure of a Big Mac! It was roughly 4 pm, and I hadn't eaten all day: wanting to leave Amqui in the morning before the rain hit, and not wanting to stop on the road and get chilled by the rain and wind meant the only thing in my stomach to this point was a Cliff Bar.

It was still early in the day, leaving me with several hours to spend in Campbellton. The local hostel was full, so I stayed at the McDonalds until it was late enough to look for a stealth site. This time, I spent the night in peace. Due to an inclement weather forecast, I figured I should rest up for a day in the town before heading for Bathurst, Hopewell Rocks, and eventually, PEI.

Getting to work in the café

More hard work, but somebody's gotta do it

It's Restigouche Sam, Campbellton's biggest fish!

J.C. Van Horne Bridge at sunset, which spans the Restigouche River and connects QC to NB

Drumheller to Saskatoon

Distance travelled over last 5 days: 497 km (and another ~40 km by car)
Total distance: 2077 km

Prairie weather is an fascinating thing. As I made my through Calgary-Drumheller-Chinook under fair-weather conditions, I was also dodging rainstorms left and right (or east and west, if you prefer). It seems like the storms around here can develop in a flash, and they can be over you before you know it (more about that later).

Looking eastward while tenting at the outskirts of Drumheller, I witnessed some of the most dynamic skies I've seen along my trip. The night proved to be dry and warm for me, but as I headed eastward the following morning, the Delia cafe owner told me about the two inches of rain that hit their town in a span of 15 minutes. I'm pretty happy I didn't have to tent out in that!

Looking eastward from Drumheller towards Delia

The wind is a love/hate relationship. First the hate: Drumheller to Chinook, and Chinook to Kindersley were back-to-back days of moderate headwinds. On a windless day I might average close to 25 km/h on such terrain, but in the wind with my bulky and weighty load, I could only manage 18. "The invisible force" elevates the demand on the body, and requires extra power and energy to get from A to B. I was very pleased with my effort and determination, after arriving in Chinook, to have covered in excess of 150 km. It was a very long day of cycling through flat terrain and straight highways. As much as I wanted to hit the imperial century mark of 100 mi (160 km), which I would have attained by persisting until Cereal, I knew it would be better for me to tent and rest up when I reached Chinook. That evening, I met Denis and Sonja at their quiet residence in Chinook. They were very welcoming: I tented in their yard, and we shared a range of conversations both in the evening and the next morning. In their backyard, a whole range of birds take sanctuary, and start their morning singing at about 4 am. The only bird I could identify was the mourning dove, which was unmistakable thanks to Mom and Dad's bird clock which hangs in the kitchen.

Like I said earlier, storms can develop in no time at all on the prairies. Day number 21 from Chinook started out with fair weather. I crossed the line from Alberta into Saskatchewan, passing the border town of Alsask along the way. A little ways further, and thunderstorms started to appear on the horizon - both to the east and the west. The skies started to darken around me.

The calm before the storm

It started to spritz a few raindrops. Getting ready for an "adventure", I donned my rain jacket and shoe booties. The rain intensified, and the winds started to blow crosswise. Sooner than I could expect, the rain was pelting down sideways. It was about 3 pm, and I was enveloped in darkness! The wind forced me to lean my bike in order to hold my balance, and finally, when the gusts challenged my ability to stay on the shoulder, I decided I had to stop for my own safety. I couldn't be seen in the rain and darkness, and I couldn't even hold a straight line!

Thankfully, I had two helmet-mounted strobe lights. I flipped them on and swivelled my body around, signalling down the first pair of headlights coming my way - it was a truck. The driver stopped, and I ran up to the window; I didn't even have to explain myself: "Get your stuff in the back, I'm getting you out of here!" she said.

I stepped into the cab wearing a soaking wet jacket. The rain was so loud on the windshield that we could hardly hold a conversation much of the time. Shannon, as I found out, was on her way to Kindersley for an appointment. She lives in that tiny town of Alsask I had passed up just a little while earlier.

Roughly 40 km to the east, the rainstorm never really hit Kindersley. It was fairly sunny, and certainly quite warm. The two of us stopped at Timmies for drinks and conversation before she took off on her business. I regret not having the presence of mind to get some form of contact information so that we could have stayed in touch.

I found residence that night with a last-minute couchsurfing request to Teagan. We had a fun hour or so of conversation while preparing and enjoying a chocolate fondue before I took my rest. Fondue is quickly becoming the comfort food of choice for this trip - it started in Calgary.

After a rest day to regroup in Kindersley, I took off for Rosetown... or so I thought. With heavy tailwinds, I made it to Rosetown by about 10 am. After eating an entire roast chicken for lunch, I decided to go for broke and set my sights for Saskatoon - one day ahead of the plan. Even 200 km isn't too far when you're sustaining 35, even 40 km/h down the highway. All the way to Saskatoon, the weather was sunny and bright. The riding was easy; my only job was to keep the cranks going around.

207.2 km from Kindersley to Saskatoon

Needless to say, I surprised my host in Saskatoon, Brad, by showing up a day early. Armed with an incorrect phone number, I wasn't able to get a hold of him to let him know about my amazing pace for the day.

Today, I rested in Saskatoon to attend a local church, visit the downtown district, and listen in on the jazz festival. In the evening, Brad, his fiancee Christina and I cooked up some butter chicken and (of course) chocolate fondue for the all the guys staying at the shared home.

In other news, my chinstrap tan-line is coming in real nice.

Osoyoos to Fairmont

Distance over last 7 days:  618 km
Total distance: 1050 km

Clouds, rain, thunderstorms, and hail! When I pulled into Princeton, I placed a call to home and pondered on the telephone how much longer the sunny weather would last. The answer - enough to make it to Osoyoos, and not a day longer!

Anarchist mountain, heading east out of Osoyoos, makes for a challenging climb - 30 km of 6% grade, with about 5 km of downhill relief. Near the summit, I got caught in the flash rain with the wrong jacket on my back, which left me pretty wet and cold. To my relief, however, a coffee shop provided shelter and hot food/drink until the rain subsided. It had only been in business for about 3 weeks! Amelio, the operator, gave me the name of the park ranger at Johnstone Creek Provincial Park, which worked to my advantage that night!

Day seven took me through a number of small towns on my way to Christina Lake: Rock Creek, Midway, Curlew (Washington) and Grand Forks. I met up with Dave, and spent two nights at his getaway to rest up. Thanks Dave - I enjoyed the tour of the area, and catching a glimpse of that brown bear was fabulous!

From Christina Lake, I climbed Paulson Summit and descended towards Castlegar, and then Nelson. It was perfect climbing weather - overcast, and not too hot. However, I thought I was having a bad day on the bike: the gradual 4.5% slope and winding road concealed the fact that I was gaining significant altitude over the 30 km of slow pedalling. Too bad about that weather, though... as I started my descent from 1535 m, I was pelted by hail, which soon turned into rain. Never in my life have I wanted a descent to be over so badly! Unfortunately, that would not be the case. An hour later, I was still going downhill, and the windchill had worked into my body. From Castlegar to Nelson, I recovered my body heat with some hill climbing, and the sun made another guest appearance. The hostel I stayed at was great: a full-featured kitchen and barbecue. I took advantage of the nearby grocery store to cook up enough food for two, and promptly devoured it all.

I left Nelson very early in the morning in order to catch a short ferry ride across Kootenay Lake. It was a scenic ride from Kootenay Bay to Creston, but the rolling hills near Creston were challenging. I spent the evening with a fabulous family that I contacted on couchsurfing. Thanks again, Nelson and Nancy, for being such amazing hosts!

Riding from Creston to Cranbrook was easy terrain, and I met some interesting cyclists along the way! I have already met my share of bicycle tourists going one way or another, but Rodger and Soe Naing are the first I have met who are also going west-east across Canada. They are raising money for the Burmese people as they chronicle their travels on their website www.justride2011.com. Once in Cranbrook, I stopped at a bike shop to clean my bike and replace the brake pads, which were nearly expired after a month and half of use. I stayed at Fergus and Andrea's place, where I got pampered like family - thanks, you two! One year old Maisie is adorable, and very bright; I'm sure she'll be a handful (as if she isn't already)!

Today was an amazing ride under sunny skies as I headed to Fairmont. The mountainous landscape around here runs like the imagination of a painter, creating a dreamworld beyond expectations. The painting also includes lots of "happy little trees" (Bob Ross reference). Tonight I am staying with my warmshowers host, Dave, who has a beautiful log cabin by Columbia Lake. We shared cycling stories, and I got some advice for my trek to Alberta.

Tomorrow I'm into the Rockies. I'll find out about the Canucks game in about 3 days, I'm sure!

Looking out over Kootenay Lake from Nelson

View leaving Cranbrook

Not so many happy trees in this photo!