Day 70

7/31/09: Rt 132 east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Matane, Quebec to Sainte-Anne-des-Monts; 57 miles http://www.4thehealthofit.net/segment_htmls/Segment71.html         

So after we had gotten the hotel on the beach – our most exotic of the trip I might add - Barney used my pack to go and get some of those wonderful Quebec micro brews (you guys probably thing we’re bloody problem drinkers by now what with all the beer talk). He came back as I was skyping Judy, and we were breaking them out pronto. I had one with a devil kind of logo on it – 9% alcohol. Now these are all beers with sediment on the bottom. Barney claims that the stuff probably wouldn’t even be legal in BC because they’re not pasteurized. Tell you what……you can take that pasturization and put it where the sun don’t shine. This stuff is beyond good. As Tony the Tiger would say: “They’re GRRRRRRRREAT!” Barney and I just keep on trucking with the Quebec microbrews, and Ryan watches TV and laughs at us every once in a while, because he can tell that at least I am getting the buzz on rather quickly with these potent microbrews. Barney? Not seen him big time buzzed yet, so the jury is out.

         And all of a sudden we’d gone through 9 beers out of the twelve. And I started to feel this intense urge to just crash head first right down onto my computer and the table it was sitting on. Bang. Now I didn’t, but wow, I mean felt like I got smacked in the head with Maxwell’s Silver Hammer (more retro stuff that Ryan has never heard about). Could have been not having had nothing in my stomach since that amazing sandwich in downtown Matane? Yea, you do the math! We needed to get dinner and quick. So we both pulled it together, me more than Barney, quite blogging and doing computer work, and get our arses down to the restaurant next door. Ryan had already gone over solo as we were doing the blogging. So we see him coming back as we’re about to go in, and he recommends the Seafood Chowder. Now I was half in the bag, more so than at any point on this trip. I mean that stuff was like Newfie Skreech!

         We get in, sit down, and again, I feel like I’m going to do a head plant into the table. I’m tired, buzzing and a bit silly from the Quebec fire water. We each order the seafood chowder. Let me tell you, I’m like a chowderholic, and I love to taste any and all chowders anywhere I can find them. This stuff was grade A. Awesome! That took some of the zing out of the Quebec micro firewater, and stepped on the buzz like a size 13 shoe on an ant. Next up……the scallops and rice. Again, home run. The food out here is just amazing. It’s truly a gastronomic paradise. And for a guy who’s been eating his way across Canada on Subway for the past 9 weeks, this week of eating is just blowing me away. I want to try any and everything that’s foreign and exotic. We finished with the desert of the day, which was a kind of chocolate cake. Magnifique!

         Now I had intended, back when we got the room, to eat dinner and then go back to the room, shower, do some client workout work on the computer, and kind of veg for a bit, but I semi-stumbled back there from the restaurant and just about did a face plant into the bed. Goodnight world!

Got up at 5:30am this morning, because of three  things, Ryan, the human alarm clock who needs coffee in his veins asap in the morning, Barney’s snoring (only Ryan can tell whose the worst here – I vote for Barney), and the fact that the sun rises so early out here you’d think you were above the arctic circle for God’s sake. So I did my client work on the computer, did my emailing, and took my shower. No hangover thank you, but I did about slip in the shower and just about 86’ed myself for the rest of the trip. I actually fell on my ass. THAT would have been something I’d have never lived down!

         We were pretty casual about getting on the road seeing that we only had about 90-100K to ride today, so we all kind of took our time. Ryan arrived back from his T. Horton pee house run, while Barney and I brewed up some hotel coffee in the Mr. Coffee on top of the dresser. Then I put on my damp cloths that I sink washed and then slept with to try to dry. That’s a wonderful feeling first thing in the morning – damp socks, cycling shorts and top. We geared it all up and were finally on the road by 8:30am. No breakky first thing. We all decided to ride a bit before hitting somewhere for breakfast. Having been up here just 2 years ago with Judy, when she got hit by a car 2 weeks before our vacation, I kind of told the guys that I thought that there were some long climbs today, but nothing out of hand. Well, I did that in a car, and my memory is not the greatest. There was a good bit of climbing in just the first 1:20 hours of riding.

         The scenery is breathtaking, as you’re riding along the road with the Gulf on your left hand side. The road goes up into the foothills several hundred feet above the Gulf, and then descends down to the little towns and cities on the water. So it’s pretty much up and down from one town to the next. And these were big ring, middle ring, and little ring climbs. Some I could power over out of the saddle in the big and middle rings, others, way too steep to do that so it was a matter of using the little cookie and just spinning in the saddle. We’re in a spot now on the Peninsula where there are small mountain ranges – the Chic Choc’s – and these help to make the shoreline pretty dramatic in spots, with capes, cliffs, and smaller peninsulas. So pretty much the MO now is descend into a town/ascend out of a town. One pretty much goes with the other.

         It’s funny too, because there’s been a point at every new area in the trip where I say to myself, “ok just get through this gnarly section of climbing and you’re home free.” Said it in the Rockies, said it for the north shore of Lake Superior, said it for the Shield of Eastern Ontario, and now I’m saying that about this Eastern Gaspe Peninsula. And I’ll probably say it for Nova Scotia. And I’ll probably say it for Newfoundland. I guess it’s my way of compartmentalizing this thing into manageable chunks of time so it all does not become so overwhelming if taken in its entirety.  I’ve always looked at the trip as one section at a time, and it’s worked well for me mentally to think of it in these terms. So I guess I’ll just continue to view it this way.

         Well, we were all getting kind of hungry about 1:30 hrs in, and began looking for places to eat. Barney found this little hole in the wall that I had passed. I had looked back, and he was gone. So went back up the road and him and Ryan had already gotten inside and were seated. Everything is in French, and what’s more there are many people up here who do not speak a lick of English. Luckily Barney has pulled his French speaking abilities out of the attic, and he’d doing really great. So Barney is making these leaps and bounds in his French after about a week in the province. Again, he translates some of the menu, and helps us with ordering from the waitress. We all order the house biggie, the king of breakfasts, the appetite crusher -  two eggs, toast, patte, sausage, bacon, ham, home fries, fruit and coffee. The belly buster. And just like yesterday, though just a couple notches down on the WOW factor, this was excellent. I mean after 2 months of gas station coffee and factory-made Danish and Ho-Ho’s, this French cuisine dining is just spoiling me something silly. And since we’re not hammering like freaking zombies out there all day, having a fairly full belly post breakfast is not so uncomfortable as it could be with a few more mph’s added to the odometer. I’m getting pretty used to these “French Canadian” brekky’s, that’s for sure.

         Got done and off to climb some more, and more, and more. We hit some nice climbs to, some taking us up several hundred feet off of the Gulf at a time. I had pulled off my now infamous, formally white and now a rusty brown, formally form-fitting and now a sagging piece of cloth, long sleeved UnderArmor because of the humidity. I’d top out of climbs just totally soaked, wiping sweat off of my face and temples like a bloody windshield wiper. If not for the cool breeze coming off of the Gulf, I’d have been a total sodden mess. The cool breeze was a great temp control for my usual affliction to riding – and CRACKING - in high humidity situations. But every time I had to stop, I’d have to put my jersey back on.

The weather……pretty iffy, with a lot of clouds, some menacing looking, and a stiff wind out of the west. Our tailwind continued for at least aonther day. By the time we reached Cap –Chat, the terrain really flattened out, and we were doing most all of our riding right down along the Gulf, with the water no more than 50-80 meters off of our shoulders. Did a quick coke and candybar stop in the western outskirts of Cap-Chat, and then we were off again, trying to beat what looked like some real rain potential coming out of the south. Got to Saint-Anne-des-Monts about 1:30pm. Found an info center, found a campground, and found all the important places in town – the bakery, the fish store, the restaurants, and the pubs.

         This town is a pretty scenic, with many small shops and homes right along the Gulf – this is if you get off of Rt 132, and take the “townie” road right along the Gulf. The campground is very nice, right along the Gulf, and we have wifi, which is what we’re all donig right now in this little game/office room just above the camping area. Weather outside is kind of like – it could rain at any time, and it could rain freaking hard! I had done most of my riding today with just bib straps over my shoulders, but the temp has definitely gone down over the last several hours. Well, Ryan has consumed a Subway, and half of a sugar pie since we’re arrived in Sainte-Ann-des-Monts. Barney had a small piece of the pie, but I’m holding out for a massive gluttonous experience with some more French Canadian cooking. I don’t want to take up precious room with pie. I want seafood, chowders, breads and pastries…….and a couple LESS potent Quebec microbrews. Well, that’s about it for now. Will catch up with the rest of the day on tomorrow’s blog, as it’s only 4:53pm right now. Bon apatite everyone…….Pete

Day 69

7/30/09: Off segment. Rt 132 east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Point-Au-Pere to Matane, Quebec; 54 miles.

So we just finished up our blogging on the picnic table and then the rain drops started to fall. We’d been blogging during a thunder storm for about an hour, and I thought that it would miss us. Wrong! We packed up our computers, unhooked from our good French Canadian neighbor, and put our gear back in the tent. I went over to the fish store to call Judy on the pay phone, and I could just see this massive storm coming in. Then went into the fish store, which was about 100 meters from our tents, to get a juice, and the storm hit. It was a complete deluge, a massive rain storm the likes I’ve not seen on this trip. Ryan and I were stranded in the fish market for a good 30 min, just watching the horizontal rain hammer.

         And we waited and waited and waited, and this thing just wouldn’t budge. The store was ready to close at about 8pm, and there we are, peering out the door with the wind catching the open door and almost ripping it of my hands. It just wouldn’t quit. Finally, out of sheer desperation, I went for it, sprinting across the road, jumping puddles that were a good 6 feet wide, and making my break for the tent. I got in my vestibule, and was soaked, having just covered about 100 meters. So I go inside and it’s like a total pounding inside of the tent of the rain on the fly. It just totally drowns out everything. So I sat in there and toweled off with my backpacker towel as the rain continued to pound. And Ryan, Barney and I yelled at one another about how hard the freaking rain was pounding. It was totally crazy.

         Pulled out the computer and did some work on client workouts, and then did aircard and checked email. It was pretty cool doing this as the deluge was pounding away outside. Got my work done and then got out the radio and tried to get some English radio. Had to settle on an AM station from the states, I think a Boston station. So I listened to Boston talk radio during the rain, and it pretty much lulled me to sleep. And it rained nearly all night long, on and off, with hard periods and low periods. Barney says it stopped around 1am. Hell, I don’t know. I just felt like I wanted to sleep the day away at that point. And my gear was not wet, but it had a dampness to it, from the air I suppose, and I felt clammy the whole night. Not dry, not wet. Just clammy.

         Woke to my two blokes tearing down gear, and I just wanted to hit the sleep button to get another 30 min of slumber. This and the neverending fog horns blearing every several minutes due to the fact that the fog was as thich as pea soup this morning. It’s getting harder and harder for me to get up for these rides. I love riding, but this day after day thing, of hitting the saddle at 8am-8:30am is getting old. I just want to laze the morning away and listen to CBC and drink coffee. No dice Pedro! So I rousted at 6:30am, and Ryan was gone to the nearest place that served up caffeine. Barney was still packing gear. So I did my usual thing, packed the dank sleeping bag, the dank sleeping pad, the dank pillow, and then staged my gear by the door. With the rain last night it was just like wetness was in the air, everywhere. And I hate putting dank stuff back in stuff sacks. As much as I did the Felix and wiped my gear down to dry, no go. The air was just so saturated with water that nothing would get dry. So I did my best. And I felt this nasty feeling in my piriformis muscle, a bad kind of strain. And I surmised that it was the result of my spriting to my tent the night before. This bugger hurt big time, and I just believed that it was now a part of my future for the next………how many days.

         Then the big Felix gig – wiping down my whole tent inside and outside, so as to not have it in the stuff sack as a soaking, dripping mess. I did the inside, where condensation built up under virtually everything I had on the floor, and then I did the outside, where it was a complete coating of water droplets. Bag a tent soaked, and you put up a tent that’s soaked! I hate that. So I wrung out my backpacking towel numerous times as I wiped the tent down. This was the biggest soaking of our trip. And no matter how much I wiped it down, it was still a sodden, soaking mess.

         Ryan made it back to the campsite, and we told him we’d meet him at the first available restaurant that was open. So Barney and I took off, with Ryan breaking down his equipment. We took off into the fog, that was at times so thick that you could barely see 100 meters ahead of you. Add to that my piriformis pain, which was on each and every pedal srtroke, and I was off to a great day! Now we took off at about 7:30am, and nothing was open. So we just kept riding in the thick fog. Finally got in about 12 miles before we came across a place that was open. I rode by it in a fit of tempo riding, and then noticed that Barney was not behind my anymore. So I U-turned and got him. It was a little hotel restaurant, that really didn’t look all that inviting. But hell, we needed coffee and something. So we go in and look at the menue. And there it was…….the Gaspesian breakfast. I saw a grin on Barney’s face as he looked at this “king of breakfasts”. And then I asked him, “are you going for that?” “Yes,” he said with an air of confidence. Deal done. Me to.

         It was a 10 dollar meal, but it had 3 eggs, fruit, sausage, ham, bacon, pâté, a torte, home made baked bearns, home made jam, and toast. This was the mother of all Gaspe Peninsula breakfasts. I HAD to have it. I’d sell my soul to have it. Visa please! And it came………..pleasure to the pallet, to the belly, to the mind. It was amazing. And we just sat there eating in bliss. I told Barney that rarely had Ryan and I enjoyed a breakfast such as this. Most of the time it was gas station coffee and a pastry. But this, this was off the charts. The toast was as thick as freaking sleeping bags – and buttered so wet that you could squeeze the butter out by the tablespoon. I just savored this meal like it was my last. And then we had a whole pot of coffee at our table, and the coffee was perfect! Ten bucks for this magnificent meal! Amazing,

         And by about the time we were done, Ryan rolls in, and says he’s checked every restaurant between there and where we camped. Problem was that everything was closed when we rode by, but opened when Ryan went by. Good thing he saw our bikes by this particular restaurant. So we got going on the next leg, working our way towards Matane. And we get back on some of Barney’s bike routes. My piriformis was really sore, and bothering the hell out of me, but what’s my choice? So I just kept it rolling, favoring my right hand butt cheek. And today it was not nearly the grunt as yesterday. We had some spectacular scenery on a couple of these side trips. There were photo opps that I would not have gotten had we stayed on Rt 132 east. This was like the “million dollar” ride along the Gulf that is beyond description. The fog was heavy, and kind of set off these islands of rock as if they were just floating in space. The sun was just able to pierce the fog enough to make the scenery otherworldly.

         About this time Ryan was hankering for another meal. So we road 132 into the next town and Ryan and I stopped at a gas station/store. I waited outside after I got my coke for Barney. And he came in, and I yelled and waved, and it was as if he never heard or saw me. He just motored on. And I told Ryan that I think Barney didn’t see me. So I was hoping he would hit the information center about 1K aw.ay. I pedaled out and hit the info center. No dice. So it was TT mode. The wind was still out of the west, so I was getting it up to about 21 mph, all along the Gulf. There I was, just putting down the tempo, all the while along this spectacular section of Gulf. It is amazingly beautiful riding out here. And you can take it for granted as you move along through the crazy scenery. I have to check myself occasionally to be real with everything.

         So I figured that Ryan would keep it going while I chased Barney down. And I caught him about 5 K from Matane. So he was surprised that I was there, thinking that Ryan and I were still ahead of him. He never even saw me waving like mad from the gas station, and thought the whole time that we were ahead of him. This is how easy it is to get discombobulated when you’re doing a trip like this with one or several people. So Barney and I are together, and Ryan was last observed chowing down on a bag of Doritos. Barney and I took the bike route into Matane. And we ended up at the fish ladder that a gentleman had told us about back at our breakfast spot. So we figured that we’d wait for Ryan at this place since Ryan expressed a big interest in seeing this. But………no salmon climbing the ladders. It was dead!

         So we hung. And after about a half hour Barney went to get us some lunch while I hung at the Salmon Run to wait for Ryan. During this interim I talked to a French Canadian about the Trans Can. He was eying my bike and gear, even taking pics. Then he approached me and asked about the trip. He loved my gear, my bike, the yak, the whole gig. And he asked me in French. I answered by saying, “no parlevu france.” And then he spoke in english. Told me he did the Trans Can in 1993, and had totally old gear. But he wanted to do it in Europe some time in the future, and wanted to use the gear that we had. So we talked for a good 30 min. In the meantime, Barney had arrived with our lunch, this awesome sub sandwich that was off the charts good. So the three of us, Barney, me, and this Trans Can Frenchie talking about touring.

         Ok, so now I had lunch, BS’ed for a bit  with a fellow cyclist, and then we’re waiting for Ryan. So Barney finally goes to the info center to see where the hotels and camping are in the city of Matane. And I wait at the salmon ladder. And I wait, and wait, and wait. And at a point I wonder if Barney was in an accident, and Ryan is lost – or the same. Double F-up

So I keep waiting. And about 1 hour goes by, and I catch my rays for the day, pulling the bib straps down so I can get a tan across the shoulders. And I change sitting positions a million times. Finally Barney comes back, telling me that Ryan is in the library doing internet, and he had two choices for lodging tonight – a campground that we had passed 5 k back, or a hotel right on the fringe of the east side of town. By this time I was ready for the hotel.

         So Barney and I ride to the hotel – 100 bucks. Done. And we’re right on the Ocean …….err Gulf……with a seaside room. Walk 30meters and you’re in the Gulf. We put all our sodden gear out on the lawn in front of the Gulf to dry in the summer sun. So Barney went into town to tell Ryan were we were at and to get a 12-pack of beer. We’re set! I hit the water, and let me tell you, it was COLD! But I got my dip in the Gulf of the St. Lawrence. Then washed cloths in the sink to sun dry outside our room on the beach. Barney did a beer run and got Ryan, and that was the day. We’re all sitting here, all of us working on our computers, blogging, skyping etc. Next move is to hit a restaurant for some dinner.

         I’m hungry, and ready to eat in Matane. More info tomorrow…….. Pete

Day 68

Pete adds. 

7/30/09: Off segment. Rt 132 east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Point-Au-Pere to Matane, Quebec; 54 miles.

So we just finished up our blogging on the picnic table and then the rain drops started to fall. We’d been blogging during a thunder storm for about an hour, and I thought that it would miss us. Wrong! We packed up our computers, unhooked from our good French Canadian neighbor, and put our gear back in the tent. I went over to the fish store to call Judy on the pay phone, and I could just see this massive storm coming in. Then went into the fish store, which was about 100 meters from our tents, to get a juice, and the storm hit. It was a complete deluge, a massive rain storm the likes I’ve not seen on this trip. Ryan and I were stranded in the fish market for a good 30 min, just watching the horizontal rain hammer.

         And we waited and waited and waited, and this thing just wouldn’t budge. The store was ready to close at about 8pm, and there we are, peering out the door with the wind catching the open door and almost ripping it of my hands. It just wouldn’t quit. Finally, out of sheer desperation, I went for it, sprinting across the road, jumping puddles that were a good 6 feet wide, and making my break for the tent. I got in my vestibule, and was soaked, having just covered about 100 meters. So I go inside and it’s like a total pounding inside of the tent of the rain on the fly. It just totally drowns out everything. So I sat in there and toweled off with my backpacker towel as the rain continued to pound. And Ryan, Barney and I yelled at one another about how hard the freaking rain was pounding. It was totally crazy.

         Pulled out the computer and did some work on client workouts, and then did aircard and checked email. It was pretty cool doing this as the deluge was pounding away outside. Got my work done and then got out the radio and tried to get some English radio. Had to settle on an AM station from the states, I think a Boston station. So I listened to Boston talk radio during the rain, and it pretty much lulled me to sleep. And it rained nearly all night long, on and off, with hard periods and low periods. Barney says it stopped around 1am. Hell, I don’t know. I just felt like I wanted to sleep the day away at that point. And my gear was not wet, but it had a dampness to it, from the air I suppose, and I felt clammy the whole night. Not dry, not wet. Just clammy.

         Woke to my two blokes tearing down gear, and I just wanted to hit the sleep button to get another 30 min of slumber. This and the neverending fog horns blearing every several minutes due to the fact that the fog was as thich as pea soup this morning. It’s getting harder and harder for me to get up for these rides. I love riding, but this day after day thing, of hitting the saddle at 8am-8:30am is getting old. I just want to laze the morning away and listen to CBC and drink coffee. No dice Pedro! So I rousted at 6:30am, and Ryan was gone to the nearest place that served up caffeine. Barney was still packing gear. So I did my usual thing, packed the dank sleeping bag, the dank sleeping pad, the dank pillow, and then staged my gear by the door. With the rain last night it was just like wetness was in the air, everywhere. And I hate putting dank stuff back in stuff sacks. As much as I did the Felix and wiped my gear down to dry, no go. The air was just so saturated with water that nothing would get dry. So I did my best. And I felt this nasty feeling in my piriformis muscle, a bad kind of strain. And I surmised that it was the result of my spriting to my tent the night before. This bugger hurt big time, and I just believed that it was now a part of my future for the next………how many days.

         Then the big Felix gig – wiping down my whole tent inside and outside, so as to not have it in the stuff sack as a soaking, dripping mess. I did the inside, where condensation built up under virtually everything I had on the floor, and then I did the outside, where it was a complete coating of water droplets. Bag a tent soaked, and you put up a tent that’s soaked! I hate that. So I wrung out my backpacking towel numerous times as I wiped the tent down. This was the biggest soaking of our trip. And no matter how much I wiped it down, it was still a sodden, soaking mess.

         Ryan made it back to the campsite, and we told him we’d meet him at the first available restaurant that was open. So Barney and I took off, with Ryan breaking down his equipment. We took off into the fog, that was at times so thick that you could barely see 100 meters ahead of you. Add to that my piriformis pain, which was on each and every pedal srtroke, and I was off to a great day! Now we took off at about 7:30am, and nothing was open. So we just kept riding in the thick fog. Finally got in about 12 miles before we came across a place that was open. I rode by it in a fit of tempo riding, and then noticed that Barney was not behind my anymore. So I U-turned and got him. It was a little hotel restaurant, that really didn’t look all that inviting. But hell, we needed coffee and something. So we go in and look at the menue. And there it was…….the Gaspesian breakfast. I saw a grin on Barney’s face as he looked at this “king of breakfasts”. And then I asked him, “are you going for that?” “Yes,” he said with an air of confidence. Deal done. Me to.

         It was a 10 dollar meal, but it had 3 eggs, fruit, sausage, ham, bacon, pâté, a torte, home made baked bearns, home made jam, and toast. This was the mother of all Gaspe Peninsula breakfasts. I HAD to have it. I’d sell my soul to have it. Visa please! And it came………..pleasure to the pallet, to the belly, to the mind. It was amazing. And we just sat there eating in bliss. I told Barney that rarely had Ryan and I enjoyed a breakfast such as this. Most of the time it was gas station coffee and a pastry. But this, this was off the charts. The toast was as thick as freaking sleeping bags – and buttered so wet that you could squeeze the butter out by the tablespoon. I just savored this meal like it was my last. And then we had a whole pot of coffee at our table, and the coffee was perfect! Ten bucks for this magnificent meal! Amazing,

         And by about the time we were done, Ryan rolls in, and says he’s checked every restaurant between there and where we camped. Problem was that everything was closed when we rode by, but opened when Ryan went by. Good thing he saw our bikes by this particular restaurant. So we got going on the next leg, working our way towards Matane. And we get back on some of Barney’s bike routes. My piriformis was really sore, and bothering the hell out of me, but what’s my choice? So I just kept it rolling, favoring my right hand butt cheek. And today it was not nearly the grunt as yesterday. We had some spectacular scenery on a couple of these side trips. There were photo opps that I would not have gotten had we stayed on Rt 132 east. This was like the “million dollar” ride along the Gulf that is beyond description. The fog was heavy, and kind of set off these islands of rock as if they were just floating in space. The sun was just able to pierce the fog enough to make the scenery otherworldly.

         About this time Ryan was hankering for another meal. So we road 132 into the next town and Ryan and I stopped at a gas station/store. I waited outside after I got my coke for Barney. And he came in, and I yelled and waved, and it was as if he never heard or saw me. He just motored on. And I told Ryan that I think Barney didn’t see me. So I was hoping he would hit the information center about 1K aw.ay. I pedaled out and hit the info center. No dice. So it was TT mode. The wind was still out of the west, so I was getting it up to about 21 mph, all along the Gulf. There I was, just putting down the tempo, all the while along this spectacular section of Gulf. It is amazingly beautiful riding out here. And you can take it for granted as you move along through the crazy scenery. I have to check myself occasionally to be real with everything.

         So I figured that Ryan would keep it going while I chased Barney down. And I caught him about 5 K from Matane. So he was surprised that I was there, thinking that Ryan and I were still ahead of him. He never even saw me waving like mad from the gas station, and thought the whole time that we were ahead of him. This is how easy it is to get discombobulated when you’re doing a trip like this with one or several people. So Barney and I are together, and Ryan was last observed chowing down on a bag of Doritos. Barney and I took the bike route into Matane. And we ended up at the fish ladder that a gentleman had told us about back at our breakfast spot. So we figured that we’d wait for Ryan at this place since Ryan expressed a big interest in seeing this. But………no salmon climbing the ladders. It was dead!

         So we hung. And after about a half hour Barney went to get us some lunch while I hung at the Salmon Run to wait for Ryan. During this interim I talked to a French Canadian about the Trans Can. He was eying my bike and gear, even taking pics. Then he approached me and asked about the trip. He loved my gear, my bike, the yak, the whole gig. And he asked me in French. I answered by saying, “no parlevu france.” And then he spoke in english. Told me he did the Trans Can in 1993, and had totally old gear. But he wanted to do it in Europe some time in the future, and wanted to use the gear that we had. So we talked for a good 30 min. In the meantime, Barney had arrived with our lunch, this awesome sub sandwich that was off the charts good. So the three of us, Barney, me, and this Trans Can Frenchie talking about touring.

         Ok, so now I had lunch, BS’ed for a bit  with a fellow cyclist, and then we’re waiting for Ryan. So Barney finally goes to the info center to see where the hotels and camping are in the city of Matane. And I wait at the salmon ladder. And I wait, and wait, and wait. And at a point I wonder if Barney was in an accident, and Ryan is lost – or the same. Double F-up

So I keep waiting. And about 1 hour goes by, and I catch my rays for the day, pulling the bib straps down so I can get a tan across the shoulders. And I change sitting positions a million times. Finally Barney comes back, telling me that Ryan is in the library doing internet, and he had two choices for lodging tonight – a campground that we had passed 5 k back, or a hotel right on the fringe of the east side of town. By this time I was ready for the hotel.

         So Barney and I ride to the hotel – 100 bucks. Done. And we’re right on the Ocean …….err Gulf……with a seaside room. Walk 30meters and you’re in the Gulf. We put all our sodden gear out on the lawn in front of the Gulf to dry in the summer sun. So Barney went into town to tell Ryan were we were at and to get a 12-pack of beer. We’re set! I hit the water, and let me tell you, it was COLD! But I got my dip in the Gulf of the St. Lawrence. Then washed cloths in the sink to sun dry outside our room on the beach. Barney did a beer run and got Ryan, and that was the day. We’re all sitting here, all of us working on our computers, blogging, skyping etc. Next move is to hit a restaurant for some dinner.

         I’m hungry, and ready to eat in Matane. More info tomorrow…….. Pete 

Day 69

Ryan Writing: So I have been a bloggless wonder for more than a week. Here is some info to catch you all up about my wonderings. I actually smelt the ocean air today and decided to jump in. It was salty and cold just like I remember. I can’t believe we have ridden 4500 miles and gone from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Today was a fun ride. Right now Pete and Barney are both swigging beer and blogging. Those guys are hilarious. They have exactly the same post ride MO. Get some swanky eats, lots of beer, and start blogging. We got Barney saying Dude a lot. Barney rides and sings these crazy songs that I have never heard like the Northwest Passage. Today he asked me if I knew who Paul Simon was. I said nope. He was like you know Simon and Garfunkel. Whoops. Pete and Barney lose me when they talk about schleprock, Oscar, Paul Simon, etc. I’m just like Dude I like the Simpsons and Seinfeld. Get a grip. They constantly give me cultural references to things that I have no clue about, but to me it adds to the humor of each day. The comedy on the past few days has been off the hook. Barney is just a cool cat and he really relaxes Pete which is a trip. I don’t pretend to get it but it is a nice change of pace. Now we just noodle along. Eat a lot. Hangout. Then as Barney would say him and Pete get “Shitfaced.” Like I said-hilarious. Tomorrow should be more chill riding and plenty of good times. Life is good.

Day 68

7/29/09: Off segment. Rt 132 east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. L’Isle-Verte, Quebec to Point-Au-Pere; 67 miles.

Ok, I’m not the “get even” guy, so no, I did not go up to the bathrooms and turn all the faucets on. Wanted to, but doing and thinking are two different things. I think my bark’s worse than my bite. My dig, was in the morning, after my bathroom break, I left the lights on inside, when the sign specifically asked to turn them off. Big freaking deal right?

         So was awoken again by our now infamous duo of Ryan and Barney. This morning…….6am right on the button. Now Ryan was nearly done packing when I rousted, and Barney was getting stuff out of his tent. But again, I’m the last in line with respect to getting the hell out of my cozy sleeping bag to put another 5-7 hours in the saddle. So we packed, and headed over to our dinner spot from last night for our breakfast. Did another egg, toast and hashbrowns gig. Then we were on our way. Now we were taking the La Route Verte, which is the bicycling route that Barney has a book for. It goes along Rt 132 at times, and then deviates onto secondary and tertiary roads. It even goes onto stretches of bike and hike trail that is paved and gravel. Just depends where you’re at.

         So we had a blast on this La Route Verte yesterday, why not do it again? Well, we did, and we were greeted with a considerable amount of climbing.This was little cookie power climbing, up asphalt, up gravel road, up bike and hike crushed limestone, up freaking everything everywhere!

         We started with a climb pronto, right out of L-Isle-Verte, up on asphalt road, to the south, and then east on a tertiary country road. This section of country road was quite beautiful, with farms on all sides. We were able to keep up a good pace what with it being asphalt road and us still having a very good tailwind. And then we hit some crushed limestone bike and hike trail. Now this was really spectacular, especially when we hit a big suspension bridge and a river valley. This place was grand on a huge degree. But the downside was that we were doing these little Z5 little cookie power climbs up and down on this crushed limestone trail. It was ok at first, but after about 1.5 hours it was really beginning to take a toll on the legs.

         So for about the first 2 hours we did our best to follow the La route Verte verbatim. Then, Ryan and I started to really feel those 75 lbs of gear in the yaks. Up and down and up and down and up and down. All power climbs with the yak. For those of you who ride, the trail is very much similar to the Carriage trail in the valley with respect to the ups and downs. Finally, when the trail map indicated that the next 15-20 k was supposed to be nothing but climbing, and recommended that trailers not be taken on this part of the route, Ryan and I gave in, and begged to get back on the 132 to keep it nice and even. We did that and then managed to just fly down the road at about 21 mph for a good half hour. This put us at an information center/camping area that Judy and I had stayed at back on our 2007 Quebec trip. Ryan found out that there was an internet café down the road about 10 miles, which he needed in order to get some work done. It’s now very hard to get wifi out here. I can use my aircard, but it is slow, and you cannot skype on it with one and two bars. So off we went to this town of Bic.

Again, we had the great headwind, so that solved at least half of the distance. And then there were the climbs, which really started to kick in. These were very similar to the climbing that we did out along the north shore of Lake Superior. These were some long big ring climbs that worked you, considering that the temp had now climbed to about 90-degrees. I had sweat just streaming down my head, back, legs, and especially my eye sockets. On this stretch the heat and humidity was just destroying me. I could feel the old energy bunny just going down and down. I’d get to the top of a climb and just feel like the energy was being sucked out of me by a vampire. By the time we turned off onto the tertiary road to Bic, I was pretty beat up. We pulled into this little French café with a patio, and this lady was on the patio using a Mac. Barney asked her if there was wifi and she said yes. So I unhooked all my gear and and got my computer out, then we went inside, almost in a daze from the heat, and began looking for an outlet for the computers. No go.

The lady comes back in with smoke in hand, and Ryan refers to her as Carmilla DeVille, and she says that there is no wifi. Her mistake. The owner gave her the code yesterday, but she forgot it today. Whatever. All the while the partrons are looking at us like we’re freaks, all salty, wet, disheveled, looking around the whole café for electric outlets. No go. So we cannot get wifi. Ryan pays to use their 1980 Macs that must be hooked up on Ethernet. Barney and I sit there in a booth for a bit, and I go through 2 crafts of water. And Barney asks the waitress in French for water, and hell, I’ve gone through it all while he was sitting there looking at the menue. I’ll tell you, at this point I was really wondering if I could continue riding today. I was that heat destroyed.

So then we order. I get the maple curried chicken and a gazpacho soup. The guys get a the fish and chips. The gazpacho soup was just heavenly. And the maple curried chicken – you’re kidding me! I’ve been pretty frugal for the last 2.5 months with respect to spending money on food – hell look at my subway record - but here in Quebec, VISA please! No qualms about spending money on these incredible foods and cooking.  I’m definitely tasting the Quebec all the way around the Gaspe Peninsula. Period. The food in this little hole in the wall café was just incredible. We all were raving about our meals. And hence forward through Quebec. VISA please! I’m eating like a culinary cow! So……..we’re fueled up, and then go back out into the heat, and by God it was hot. So we descended down to Rt 132, and then by God rode right back up another climb to get back to the same altitude that we started at!

Did a long climb, and then a turn to the north, to put us right along the St Lawrence River, and that’s when it hit us – the temps dropped about 10 degrees, and you could taste salt in the air. We made that turn and Ryan was holding both arms up in the air as a kind of salute to the ocean. It really felt as though we were now along the ocean, and if you look out across the river, its now the Gulf of St. Lawrence. This took us to another bike and hike trail, and down right along the “Gulf”. The trail was wonderful as we meandered along the Gulf all the way into the city of Rimouski. Then we road along a boardwalk for another 4 or so miles to another little tertiary road along the Gulf. We took this amazingly scenic road to the town of Pointe-Au-Pere. It was here that we started to see some crazy nice locations right along the Gulf, a mere 100 feet off of the water.

We were going to ride another hour, but we came across this tiny, non-utility campground next to a fish store and restaurant and it was game over. We asked a gentleman camping in a 5^th wheeler if we could camp, and he nodded yes, pointing to the fish store to get permission. We go in, and it’s 5 bucks. I had the five out of my wallet as fast as the rifleman! Done. So then we get sea food. I got a kilo of shrimp, crab legs, and a baguette. And then I picked up a six of Quebec micro brew. We went back to the picnic table and just chowed. Barney ate the rest of his sturgeon, while I went through the whole carton of shrimp and the crab legs.

We began to blog, but my battery was almost dead from last night, so Barney asks our neighbor if we can “borrow” some electricity and he says give him twenty min. Then we hook up to his generator. So we’re here, drinking beer, eating sea food and baguette and blogging with the Gulf just 200 meters away on my left. Then the gentleman wants to hook his 5^th wheel back up, but does not want to shut us off. And this guy cannot speak a lick of English. So we’re kind of miming the whole thing. So he brings his generator up to our picnic table, and then we plug in directly to it, while he plugs into it’s corded outlet. So here we are at 6:15pm blogging on a picnic table in the Gaspe Peninsula, half in the bag because Barney bought another six of Quebec microbrew. Damn, Barney and I are going to drink our way through the next 4 provinces! Tomorrow………….pete

Day 67

7/28/09: Off segment. Rt 132 east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Saint Jean Port Joli, Quebec to L’Isle-Verte, Quebec; 80 miles.

Just a standout day to be sure. This one will go down in the memory banks as a four-star ride in my life. Ok, now to start from the start. Unfortunately Barney is an early riser as is Ryan. Two peas in a pod here. Both up at 6am. And I hear them, and just roll over in disgust. This morning I just wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep. But there they were, outside talking and fiddling with stuff. So I hit my imaginary snooze alarm and conked out for another half hour. Finally rousted myself at 6:30am, packed my gear inside my tent, and went for coffee and breakfast. The guys were apparently way down on the other side of town because the places next to our camp area were not open until 7am.

         So I hit our dinner venue from last night and got a nice little breakfast of eggs, toast, hash browns, coffee, and fruit, out on the patio in the front of the building,  for 5 bucks. By the time I was done the guys got back and we began tearing down the tents. We were all packed and on the road by 8:30am. We must have done something right because the wind was out of the west, and we had an awesome tailwind. From the start it was just a joy to ride with such an easy pedal stroke, basically soft pedaling the whole time and being able to do about 18-19mph. But the really cool thing was the fact that Barney has this cycling guide to the peninsula, and it is very detailed. So we use this as our guide. It has the bike go off on little side trips into the hamlets and along the St. Lawrence River instead of just following Rt 132 the whole way. Our first sidetrip was onto a crushed limestone bike and hike trail right along the river, and it was amazingly beautiful. I shot while we were riding, and just had a ball. We just didn’t want this section to end. It’s no wonder that this area is noted as a premier cycling destination in all of Canada.

         By this time you could smell the sea in the river, and Ryan confirmed that with his keen sense of ocean experience. There is even a very considerable tide at this point here in the St Lawrence River, with tidal flats and the whole bit. We ebbed and flowed on and off of Rt 132 east. Our second stint off of Rt 132 was pure ecstasy as we got on a little road that was along the river and went through a very small village. It was stunning, and I just wanted it to last forever. I’ll tell you this, had it just been Ryan and I, we would have been blowing by these places as we did our “Run & Gun” all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. Very nice to have Barney add this sense of discovery to such a wonderful place in Canada. We needed this, and Barney had added a real attribute to this trip for sure. I look forward to traveling with him, hopefully all the way to Cape Spear!

         After we exited that wonderful little stint along the river, Ryan wanted to stop and get a bite, so we targeted the next town for our lunch stop. So it was Kamouraska for lunch. We did a nice little big ring climb to get into this town, and then it leveled out and we went by oodles of restaurants an and shops before we stopped in front of a fish store and a small grocery. And just as I pulled in, Barney rolled in and yelled “stop.” This was a store that sells smoked fish. And I was right with him on that, hoping to try some new foods here on the Gaspe. We go in and are overwhelmed by the selection in this small little store. They have So many things I’d like to try. Barney had his heart set on the smoked Sturgeon from the get-go. So I was on board with that. Then he asked the fishman about this other thing next to the Sturgeon, and the man replied in French that it was smoked eel. And I just piped up that I’ll have that to, in addition to the sturgeon. And then I pointed to a little sandwich which was filled with smoked sturgeon, and said “un” and I had that to. So add these pups up and I had a 21 dollar lunch of smoked sturgeon and eel, and a smoked sturgeon sandwich. Visa my man! And done.

         Barney and I got the same stuff, verbatim. So I go out and attack my eel first, and it’s great. No kidding, this stuff was just like chicken……….er fish. Yea, it was like fish, and tasted great. Then I set my sights on the smoked sturgeon. And this stuff was off of the charts good. It had the consistency of red meat, but was a white fish. I could have eaten a pound of this stuff. A small piece of it cost me nearly 9 bucks. How about a damned whole fish? So I darned near buzzed through all of eel and sturgeon before Barney was even able to exit the fish shop. Next up…….smoked sturgeon sandwich. Again, a home run. I just love trying these new foods, especially when I cycle all day long and can eat just about anything under the sun, all day long. Barney went through the eel and the sturgeon sandwich, and saved the piece of smoked sturgeon for this eve.

         Finished with a coke. I mean think about it…….just ate all this smoked fish, and then I chase it with a damned coke! But I need the sugar to get me back on the bike and riding well. So fish and coke it was……burp.  Ryan…..that nut ate a bag of Doritos and a sandwich. A whole freaking bag of Doritos, by himself. We’re all pieces of work. And Barney is well on the way to becoming foodaholics just like we are. We finally get going again, and set our sights on getting through Riviere-du-Loop and then hunting for a camping area. So with the awesome tailwind, we get it ripping at a solid 20mph for quite a while, and hit Riviere in short order. Then we road a short bike trail up to the city’s boat marina. It was very reminiscent of the Bay of Fundy in that the boats were left low and dry in the mud as it was low tide. The River De-Loop, which flows into the St Lawrence, was a river amidst a sea of mud as it went out into the St. Lawrence. We hung for a bit and then got back on the road, looking for Cacouma as our possible camp stop. But once there, and that after a pretty good roller coaster big ring climb, we found nothing in the way of camping, so just moved on to the next town – L-Ilse Verte.

         Now here we had a very flat, almost straight shot into town. And it was about 10 miles. So I got the old freight train rolling, and we were moving along at 45K/hour, just scorching down the road for a solid 10 K or so. It is so much fun riding a tailwind like that when you want to get somewhere fast. Got into town in notime, and checked with the information. Just one campground in town, and it was 3K out of town, right by this information place. So we decided to go into town and do some internet at the municipal building – for one dollar/hr – and then get dinner. We were all done within an hour, and then hit a grocery, Ryan for dinner, me for “pre dinner” and Barney for a couple of juices.

         Next stop was a restaurant for dinner no. two. We hit a small café, but no go there. The gentleman directed us to another place on 132. So we ended up at this little pub/restaurant. I was skeptical, but hell, no other choices here. And I was especially not into it due to this derelict outside roaming around by our bike. But we hit it nonetheless. I ordered up two “du gross beirs” – two big beers, for Barney and I. They’re selection was bad, but the beer was ice cold, and I was in heaven. I ended up with two cheeseburgers and a order of fries – for a mere 8 bucks. Barney got a pasta dish. Ryan……water. Got a second gross beir, and then a third. I got that third because they didn’t charge me for the second, and it rained briefly, so what the heck.

         Then rode back to the campground, set up, got in hotel Hellie, and began to blog. My aircard works, so I can post this tonight. Turns out that the camping is 18 bucks/person. THAT is why Ryan and I started asking people if we could camp in backyards etc a long time ago. That’s just rip-off plain and simple. I want to go up and turn the hot water on in the shower tonight and then just let it run all freaking night long. That’s how irritated this makes me. We bloody CAMPING, one site, three tents! I’m still steaming over that.

         Well, tomorrow looks good weather wise, and so to do the next several days, so I hope the awesome riding on the Gaspe continues. That’s about it, I’ve got to get up to the shower room………and……well …..you know! ……………pete

Day 66

7/27/09: Off segment. Took Rt 132 east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Quebec City, Quebec to Saint Jean Port Joli, Quebec.

Man did we stay up late last night, Barney and I drinking all of our hand picked micro brews, with Barney doing his blogging, Ryan sawing logs, and me checking out other people who are and who have done the Trans Can and have websites. Just wanted to see what else is going on out there. I did come across a guy who did the Trans Can while filming himself with mini cameras mounted on his bike. It was a great job, and I was really blown away by this guy’s project. So hit the hay at 12 midnight.

         Now Ryan was sleeping on his ground pad with sleeping bag between Barney and my beds. So I get up at app. 3am to take a pee, and go to the bathroom, and the door’s shut, and I open the door and there’s Ryan in there with his pad and sleeping bag sleeping. I’m like what the hell are you doing? And he tells me that Barney and I were doing tag team snoring and he just could not sleep, so he found sanctuary in the bathroom, curled around the sink and wedged between the commode. I was so sleepy that it wasn’t even funny, as I had to pee in a massive way, but this morning it was hilarious to hear him recounting how Barney and I were creating a duet with our snoring.

         So got up around 7:30, and it was not raining. Hit the continental breakfast and was hoping to beat the Euros – they are Italian. So much for me and my Hungarian guess. I got my plate and then down they came, an army of short, squat, rotund Italians just battling for a position in the breakfast line. All over again. So I zipped up there and got a second plate just to make sure I didn’t have to do battle. I took my spoils and went back to the room to Skype my parents and to get any last out emails before we set off today. We were all ready to go by 8:30am, and it had begun to drizzle very lightly as we were exiting the hotel. The temps had increased a great deal over yesterday, and the wind had died down considerably to. So off we went, on the exact route that we had taken back from Quebec City yesterday when we had gotten caught in the rain.

         Our intension was to get over a bridge on the east side of the city and then continue to ride east on the south side of the St. Lawrence River. We will go off route, riding on the south side of the river rather than the north due to the fact that Barney had found out that the north side is filled with Shield Country type climbing, while the south side is not. Now I’ve been on the south side before and was looking for something new, but I was totally good with this minor change to the itinerary, and it would be good for Barney and Ryan to experience this part of the province as I had several times prior to this. We got it rolling on our bike trail route to the old city, and it was wet as hell out, pretty much soaking my shoes for the second time in about 12 hours.

         We made it to the downtown in about 45 min, and then started looking for a place to access the bridge across the river. Finally we stopped and Barney asked a local about the bridge location. And he came back and said, “I made a big mistake, here. There is no bridge!” So what were our options? We would have to ride back along the other side of the river as we had ridden yesterday, and then do a very big climb out of the river valley, up to the one and ONLY bridge across the river. It was a good 6-8 miles back up to the bridge on the other side. We gave Barney some good natured shit about his first gaff in the trip. So we rode back downtown, and then we saw it. Our big chance to rectify the gaff……take a 10 min ferry to the south side of the river rather than do all that backtracking. So we looked at the schedule and found a ferry in about 20 min. Went back to the old city, on the bottom, at darned near riverside, got a coffee and Danish, and just relaxed.

         The ferry was a total no-brainer, and we were on the other side in a matter of ten minutes. We got off and just got onto this beautiful bike path that was pristine asphalt, and just started pedaling east. It was wonderful, and I was sad to see it end in the 4 miles or so, and then we were on Rt 132 east. Barney was riding strong as hell, and pulling up the first section of road for a good 5-8 miles. Then we traded off and I pulled for a while. We had a pretty good average seeing that that wicked headwind from the east was really dieing down and the sun was actually beginning to show itself after nearly one week of gloom. The views along the St. Lawrence were just fabulous, and I can see why this is one of the premier cycling routes in all of Canada. The river is on our left shoulder, and it is getting bigger and bigger by the hour as we work our way east. It almost looks as though there is a tide here, with tidal flats next to the road we’re riding on. The small towns and massive French catholic churches in each one are outstanding. It’s just sensory overload as you ride through these small hamlets.

         When we got to the town of Montmagny, we took a break. This was not one of the small, scenic towns, but more along the line of the strip mall variety – and it will be one of the last as we work our way east. Now we were going to go into town and try to find these meat pies that Barney has been raving about, and we got on the bike trail but once we stopped and talked to a local we found that the trail did not go into the town center. At this time we had seen a Subway when we entered town, and Ryan, like a bee to honey, went straight to the big S. Barney and I ended up back at the big S with Ryan and did the dirty with the subs. I got a lowly 12 incher, while Barney, the rookie, got a 6 incher. He did remark though that he could see how you could eat a 12 incher – he’s learning quick here, and so is the gremlin in his stomach.

         So we subbed up and decided to shoot for another 15 miles and call it a day. We got on the road, and the clouds were really building up to the point to where it was looking a lot like rain. And then the drizzle started, and then it was light, and then it was steady and then there was lightning and thunder, and then we…….decided to get the hell off of the road. We found shelter in an information booth on Rt 132. It was manned by a very nice young French Canadian woman by the name of Marie. She could speak English and was quite friendly to us as we waited out the freaking rain storm. She was teaching Ryan and Barney the pronunciation of some of the towns on the peninsula, while Ryan was teaching her English slang, with “hey dudes” and “what’s up dudes?” It was pretty hilarious to listen to her repeating “what’s up dudes?”

         I dog gone near feel asleep in a chair there waiting for the thunder storm to stop. Finally did and we got it going, said our goodbyes and went out to our bikes…….when I noticed that my rear tire was looking low…..it was going flat. So there I am, with the sun coming out, now fixing a flat, when I could have been doing it the whole time we were waiting in there. Patched the flat, blew the tire up and got it rolling. Ryan had taken off to find a place to stay in the final destination, while Barney helped me with the flat. Once back on the road Barney and I got it cranked up pretty good, and made the next town in about an hour. When we got there Ryan had already gotten a camp spot, with a nice restaurant and store 200 yrds up.

         We put our tents up, I went into the store and got two very good microbrew Quebec beers for Barney and I and we sat and had a beer to toast him being back on the road again. Now these little puppies are 500 ml each, not just rinky dinky 12 oz beers, and most of these Quebec micros are at least 6.5% to 10%, so they are pretty potent! Looks like Barney and I are going to consume our way across Quebec with these fantastic micro brews. They all have sediment at their bottoms, so the stuff is almost like home brews. They’re wicked good! We’re sitting here in the restaurant right now pecking away at the keyboard trying to get our blogs done before we order dinner. Using an Ethernet cable to connect as there is no wifi out here. But it does the job.