Early June, and only yesterday did I finally manage to get across the river and into the trees and eventually, to Champlain Lookout in the Gatineau Hills. Champlain is my usual turnaround for a 3-to-4-hour ride from home in Ottawa, the time required and degree-of-difficulty (i.e., hills) depending on which of several routes I take.
As a rule, I make this ride a month earlier. This year, all sorts of things conspired to delay me--travel restrictions 'cos of COVID, a lot of pressure on my time because of commitments to domestic and civic life, and to friends in need. And, unseemly behaviour by the weather gods: last week, for example, we had several consecutive days with the humidex at 40 and above. That's dangerous territory, and a reminder that Ottawa's latitude is just a couple of degrees north of the south of France. Our climate regularly reminds us that there's a swing of 60-plus degrees between midwinter and midsummer.
But 'nuf of excuses and grumbles -- no one's listening, anyway. We had a glorious early-summer day, temps in the mid-20's, low humidity and a light breeze, bright sunshine and a scattering of clouds. And,
no motor traffic in Gatineau park. Cars 'n' such are allowed on Wed-Sat-Sun afternoons, but on a Friday, I met only walkers, joggers, and several dozen cyclists.
The woods have their full canopy now, so the ride up was full of green and gold and dappled shadow on the empty roads. The fifty shades of green are still fresh, despite six weeks of very little rain. (May was the driest month on record, less than 12 mm.) The woods are tinder-dry on the forest floor, seasonal streams no longer exist, and even permanent ones are inaudible, reduced to just a collection of stagnant pools.
But on days like this, even roadside trees and rocks are delightful -- see photo #1 below.
Last year's ponds are this year's marshes, so a lot of lakes and their inhabitants are suffering. Their sometimes-odd names are unchanged, however. I've often wondered what lies behind the name in photo#2: Would that be le grand bourgeois? Or the petty variant? Neither name is very complimentary, though, so perhaps an early settler named the lake so's to discourage nearby neighbours. This address wouldn't have the same cachet as, say, Silver Lake or Paradise Lake.
At Champlain Lookout, the summit 300m and change above sea level, the retaining wall had been rebuilt last year (the Ottawa Valley is an earthquake zone, so the tectonic plates rearrange things now and then) and had a crowd of 3 other cyclists. So, there was plenty of space to lean Osi against the wall, eat an orange, and admire the view. I never tire of this view. It's our great privilege, never to be taken for granted. It's constant, but always varies with the season and the time of day.
Just above Osi's saddle in photo #3, looking slightly NW, you see the bend in the river where the Ottawa turns abruptly west from the big north-south reach-cum-lac des Chênes which begins on the western flank of the city. Roy Macgregor's book, "Original Highways", reminds us that the Ottawa was once, and for a long time, a highway to the interior of the continent. Photo #4 is a view more-or-less due W. On the Québec side in the foreground are fields, farms and woodlots; across the river on the Ontario side, the blue haze obscures more of the same, as well as lower hills which are also less rocky than the escarpment from which these photos are taken.
So, a little hint of sorta-normal times.
I'll be doing this ride more frequently as the summer unfolds, I hope: I'm still a gear lower on my Rohloff on the slight inclines, and one or two lower on the steeper hills.
Not much wildlife in evidence on this ride, except for dozens, probably hundreds of dragonflies, bless 'em. These are a paddler's friend, 'cos they feed on horseflies. Seeing them near my front wheel as I climbed up to the Lookout, I figured I'd find a few horseflies at the top. Indeed they were there, the brutes; but happily, no more than 2 or 3, 'cos the dragonflies were doing what dragonflies do.
