A Trail Like No Other

When I opened my curtains this morning, I was greeted by a pink sky, and bluish silhouette of the hills on the north shore. A good sign, it seemed, for the day ahead, but before I recount the day, I have a few confessions to make, dear reader: a) I completely skipped stretching before hopping on the bike, b) I had puck-sized chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, and c) throughout the day, I entertained ungenerous thoughts about New Brunswick’s lack of charm.

Okay, now that I have cleared my conscience, I can move on.

As I had said in yesterday’s post, I love the route from Rivière du Loup to Edmunston, because it is entirely on trails. However, last time I rode it, I started on the trail at 3:00 in the afternoon, and was hellbent on making it as far as Cabano before dark, which I didn’t quite manage, rolling into town, instead, just after dusk, and having to ask someone for directions. A woman came to my aid, and walked me to the hotel, happy, she said, to practice her English.

What are the chances that I should meet another helpful stranger near Cabano who was also eager to practice his English? Well I did. The trail is closed for construction outside of Cabano, and the only way around is to get on the Trans Canada, which, of course, in Quebec, is prohibited for cyclists. I knew about the construction in advance from a fellow Guelph rider who is one day ahead of me, and who had texted to explain, so when I reached the trail closure sign, I didn’t stress, but instead called the posted number, and a man from the highway crew, Charles, said no problem , he would pick me up in 5 minutes. He was tall, with a beard, and looked every inch an outdoorsman. He lifted my bike easily into the back of his pickup, and laid it down gently, then drove me to the other end of the trail construction. It took only a few minutes, during which time I asked him all kinds of questions about life in Quebec. He did not study English in school, he said, but rather had learned from playing Xbox, and from watching movies and listening to podcasts. Impressive to say the least. After he dropped me off, I shook his mighty hand, and then started on the most beautiful stretch of the trail, along Lake Temiscouata. Unlike last time, when it was shrouded in early morning mist, today it was glittering under a cloudless sky.

I had lots of time to take videos and to stop at lovely outdoor toilets, though I was quickly reminded that the downside of riding on the trail in June vs September is the bugs. More specifically, the mosquitoes. It seems that being stationary for more than a minute leads to a group text going out to all mosquitoes sharing key information: middle-aged(ish) woman on trail, sporting scents of sunscreen, topical pain ointment, and just a touch of deodorant. Skin seems a little tough, but still punctureable. And so they came, a small cloud of them, looking for blood, inspiring me to get pedalling.

The lake ends before Degelis, after which it is straight and flat trail all the way to Edmunston. I was riding on fumes, and could have eaten my last Cliff bar, but I wanted to stop at a little market on the west side of Edmunston, so I could have one of their divine egg salad sandwiches, and their avalanche of maple cake. Now the sandwich may not be worthy of a photo, and I was too hungry to take one anyway, but the cake, well that’s a different story. I have had it before: sponge cake in layers, with maple icing in between, and then a topping of cut up pieces of cake, with maple drizzled on top. Thank you French Canadians for your delicious sirop d’erable concoctions. So divine.

I got back on the trail, and took it right downtown to the Morel Executive Suites where I am staying tonight.

I didn’t want to  pay to stay in a big hotel near the casino, and I found this suite instead. It did not disappoint. It is the  apartment equivalent of the funky eyewear I saw in Quebec. It is beautifully designed with excellent appliances, including a washer and dryer, and even a wee box of Tide. Be still my heart.

I immediately threw in a load on speed wash, then climbed into the shower to clean off a thick coat of dust, and the odd bug carcass.

Getting out of the shower, the laundry seemed to have stalled out at the wash cycle. I had put in all of my clothing, excepting a t-shirt, underwear and socks, so I was a captive until this laundry finished. I texted the owner to get suggestions, and he said it was a slow machine, and to give it time. After another 30 minutes, and by now hungry and antsy, I texted again, and he offered to come over and troubleshoot. Sure okay. Now I had to find more clothes, so I put on my light jacket and wrapped a towel around my waist. Voila, I was presentable. The owner, Denis, clearly lives nearby, as he was there in minutes, and after putting the machine on a rinse and spin cycle, it started to make happy, gurgling noises, and I was back in business.

Now I was going to wait to have my maple bonanza after my sushi, but I was so hungry, I ate the whole darn thing, and then once I was outfitted in clean attire, I walked less than a kilometre to the Sushi restaurant, and bought a proper poke bowl. Just as well there are no IGAs ahead of me, as the disappointment might be too great.

Now I am clean, and full, and busy planning for tomorrow. It is going to be hot again, so I will start as soon as the sun is up. Last time I rode on the Teams Canada, and had no issues, but I will take the quieter roads to Woodstock tomorrow. May I find more spots like the Morel suites, so that I no longer feel inclined to lament the lack of charm in NB.