Up With the Birds

If anyone is interested, the birds in Vaudreuil-Dorion seem to get up around 3:30 a.m., and they have a lot to talk about. So much chatter.

I was reminded of those times at school when an asinine decision was made on high (insert Ministry of Ed, board of ed, school admin as you see fit) which would affect the entire school community adversely. Word would spread like wild fire through each department office, and along the corridors between classrooms.

Once the chatter woke me, I decided I might as well get up, as, having seen rain and wind in the forecast for early afternoon, my goal was to be riding by sunrise. That gave me plenty of time to make a coffee, and to clear my head.

I stepped out into a cool but calm morning, with the first steaks of light in the sky, then got on the bike path that runs along the canal all the way from Pointe-des-Cascades to Cote’s-du-Lac. From there I took the bridge over Lake St Francis, which, mercifully, had a designated cycling lane that was blocked off from traffic.

Ontario could take some pointers from Quebec when it comes to cycling infrastructure. Out of my 160 km ride today, I would estimate that at least half of it was on paved bike paths. Yes , paved. For miles at a stretch. And in each small town, there were comfort stations. So civilized. No need to squat in the forest with the risk of falling over while being swarmed by the same pack of mosquitoes that stole my ID and was busily trying to order new iphones and to book hotels in my name.

When I wasn’t on paved bike paths, I was on roads with a well marked bike lane. That kept my stress level nice and low, which was good, given the bad weather that loomed ahead.

Really, the weather turned out to be fabulous until the final two hours when the rain began, and the wind started making its presence known.

Admittedly by the last hour, I was ready to get off the bike and stretch. I have tried to be more disciplined about stopping to stretch throughout the day, but I just kept grinding today, and my neck was protesting loudly.

I arrived in Farnham at 1:00, thinking I would have to kick around town for a few hours, but the owner was happy to check me in right away. She also offered to move me to a larger room without charge, so I would have space for my bike, but requested that I use only one of the beds. I reassured her that it was my habit to occupy only one bed per night.

I did my best to clean the bike before I brought it in, as she had been so gracious about allowing me to bring it inside, and then it was time to get myself cleaned up.

Feeling more or less human, I took a short walk into town where I found Yamaska Cafe, which was a bit mind blowing. Although the loaves of bread were beautiful, I pulled myself back from the abyss, and limited myself to a caprese sandwich, along with the last croissant of the day, which just happened to be chocolate and almond. The Parisian barista then made me the latte of a lifetime (or perhaps it is just a matter of what I have been calling coffee for the last week). Finally, I was off to Metro to buy some fruit and veggies, and breakfast for tomorrow.

By the time I got back to my cozy room, the skies had darkened, the temperature had dropped, and the wind had declared war on all trees in the area. For the next few hours it poured in earnest, leaving sizeable troughs of water on the road.

Then just as quickly as it arrived, it departed, leaving a world glistening and shuddering at the drop in temperature. I am almost glad for the storm, as it made me that much more happier that I had gotten up with the birds even if I had no idea what they were chattering about.

Now, with one eye closed, I must bid you all a good night.