Part 1 of my account of a day ride:
Last Tuesday, we had a rare (for this summer) (but standard issue in "normal" times) hot and clear summer day. I took advantage of the window in the rainy days to make a daylong ride north and west of Ottawa. I rode north across the Ottawa River towards my usual 3-4-hour out-and-back into the Gatineau Hills, but instead of going into the hills, I angled NW onto the gently rolling agricultural plain between the big river and the Gatineau escarpment. I rode close to the river to the small town of Quyon, a centre for agricultural, lumbering and mining activities over the years. From Quyon, I took the ferry across the Ottawa to the hamlet of Fitzroy Harbour, and from there to the agricultural village of Carp (now amalgamated into the Ottawa metropolitan area), and back to our house in the west-central part of Ottawa.
Here's a fairly accurate map of the route:
http://tinyurl.com/y75y5t2e The total distance was about 120 kms, including about 20-25 kms of gravel on the Québec side. I covered the distance in about 6 hours of riding, and spent about 8 hours on the road, with breaks for snack, the ferry, and photos.
I began the day with a very quiet ride into the lower reaches of the Gatineau Hills, and then about 2 1/2 hours through the agricultural land between the Ottawa River and the Gatineau escarpment to the east. (Photos 1, 2 & 3 below.) In the mid-19th century and later, much of Western Québec along the Ottawa Valley (and on the Ontario side as well) was settled by Irish families, so many seeking a haven from the Great Hunger.
In many of the fields, the farmers were still taking off their crop of hay. In some cases, the bales were still in the fields, awaiting their sheath of white plastic; elsewhere, the hay had been cut and tedded into rows, and was still drying before being baled. In other fields, the hay was not yet cut. The crop seemed to be heavy, but the harvest is about a month late -- typically, the hay is off the field and the bales stored before the end of June. This summer's record rainfall meant that farmers could not get their machinery into the fields until late July.
We had had no rain for a few days before my ride, so the gravel roads in Québec were being graded, with fresh gravel added. The maintenance made corrugations less of a problem, along with the risk (for a cyclist) of vehicles throwing up more dust than usual. As I rode away from the hills and towards the river, I found an unwelcome indicator of less-than-welcoming attitudes: From my childhood days on the farm, I've always understood the etiquette on gravel to be that, as a motorist, you slow
right down when you're passing people walking or cycling, so as not to cover them with dust. This is not so well understood or followed any more, it seems. The posh cars, SUVs, and hopped-up Subarus driven by young males shot by me, trailing the inevitable cloud of choking dust. ("Townies," I muttered to myself through my hand.) A couple of drivers in battered old pickups did The Courteous Thing, for which I thanked them with a wave.
I stopped at a couple of dépanneurs to inhale some ice cream, chocolate milk, and my own snacks, and to pass the time of day with the owners and customers. (A cyclist some distance from town, especially un gar d'un certain âge, invites questions and comments.) The dépanneur is an exemplary Québec institution: if you are en panne (i.e. with a breakdown, or more generally, stuck with a problem), you need a dépanneur, something or someone to fix your problem. These are in effect updated rural general stores, typically by the highway. As motor vehicles have become more reliable, dépanneurs have become more like (sub)urban convenience stores. But, they still offer a range of comfort foods, coffee, ice cream, wine and beer, some groceries, some hardware, and occasionally poutine (if you're so inclined.)
In Quyon, I stopped for lunch at a dépanneur opposite the fairgrounds near the ferry dock. Gavan's Hotel is a famous old landmark in the village. Gail Zoé Gavan, daughter of the owner, is a locally-famous C & W-cum-Irish-cum-canadienne singer who does a haunting version of "Quand le soleil dit bonjour aux montagnes". Sadly, I didn't see her.
Part 2 of the text follows in a separate post below. The photos are split into two groups: #'s 1-3 for this section, 4 & 5 for Part 2.
