The Drive Thru

Yes, there I was at 5:30, standing at the drive thru window at Burger King, just me and a couple of seagulls, watching the sky turn pink. Well, I was watching; I think they were more interested in finding breakfast.

Such was my the desire for coffee, that I headed to McDonald’s, as it was reportedly open 24 hours, but it turned out only the drive thru was open, and the young woman would not let me walk through. Sigh. Next stop was Burger King, where I saw several women sitting inside. That looked hopeful. Upon seeing me, one woman waved towards the side of the building. As it turned out, she was an employee, gesturing me to the drive thru window where she kindly took my order, then put on a fresh pot of coffee for me. I thanked her profusely when she handed me a towering cup of coffee, and she said, in the loveliest voice, it’s my pleasure. I found it hard to imagine anything would be a pleasure after being up all night, but she smiled with genuine kindness. I suspect French and English are perhaps her second and third languages, and there I was barely managing one language at that hour.

I have been reminded throughout this trip, as I was on my last one, that it is often new Canadians who are working in the service industry, resourcefully recreating their lives in this country that  I have the privilege of cycling across.

Not yet 6:00 a.m, and already my day felt complete, but I still had a long way to go. I ventured to the hotel breakfast room, and after relishing a bowl of Cheerios, and preparing a bagel with peanut butter and banana for later, I then happily stuffed my pockets with extra provisions like sticks of cheese and mini packets of Nutella. Oh the joy!

Though I have never been able to pop a wheelie, or perform any other such tricks, today I mastered opening and consuming a packet of Nutella while in motion. A small trick, but a trick nonetheless, which I learned after being unable to endure the pestering of blackflies whenever I stopped. Even the most divine treat loses its appeal when those flies are biting you.

I was on Rte 148 again for much of the morning, but I did take a short detour through the trails of Parc national de Plaisance, where I met two lovely women, Sandy and Tem, who are hiking from Ottawa to Montreal, as part of a group called Chemin Des Outaouais. The organization coordinates hosts for the hikers, and then the hikers pick up food for themselves as they go along. They could not believe how little I was carrying for such a long trip, and I could not believe how much stuff they seemed to be lugging in their many packs. While I loved the idea of their trek, I was happy enough to be moving at 20-30 kms/hr rather than 5-7 kms/hr.

With a solid tailwind, I was moving right along, though I knew the latter part of the day through the busy streets of Vaudreuil-Dorion would be slow. Also, as a result of discovering the Oka ferry was not running (thank the lord I checked), I had to create a new route, taking the bridge from Grenville to Hawkesbury, which was actually easier and faster than waiting for the ferry, then navigating  from Hawkesbury to Vaudreuil-Dorion, which meant stopping to check my map every so often.

Suffice to say the latter part of my day proved more stressful, especially when the skies suddenly opened, requiring a quick stop to put my rain gear on, but here I am, at Motel le Marigot, with my bike cleaned, my laundry done, and my eyes about to close. Once again, dear reader, bonne nuit!