49.5 miles and 2,521 ft up and 5 hours in the saddle. Good, hard day. We left Trois Pistoles around 9 in a light fog. Cool enough to require jackets but it did warm up as the day went on. Or should I say that we warmed the day up with our exertions. Lots of climbing some pretty steep grades but a beautiful area including a provincial park so it was worth it. We are now at Phillip’s house for the night, a very genial warm showers host who served us a hearty dinner of roasted bratwurst, sweet potatoes, and roasted red peppers. We shared dinner and a beer and heard about his travels in Tasmania and New Zealand and an upcoming trip from Venice to Munich, and shared ours, too.
This should be a sidebar, but I’ll just lay it out here. Riding through Quebec is like passing through a version of “Lives of the Saints (LOTS)!” Almost everything is named St. something or Street of the Angels, or anything you could think of. LOTS was a book in my parents house that I read as a young kid. Probably where my morbid curiosity about torture methods came from (and trying to understand how one human being could possibly do that to another!). LOTS was illustrated, with Renaissance era paintings, including St. Sebastian being shot with arrows — seven altogether I think; one in his thigh, another in his stomach, complete with draining blood and all that. St. Francis’ stimaga, again with the requisite blood. St. Joan burning at the stake (though I’ve yet to see a St. Joan here in Quebec. It’s mostly been guys and Mary). Anyway, TMI I know, but I have some spare time this evening as our host is gone playing frisbee golf and John is upstairs resting. Maybe I should be resting too instead of digging up old ghosts!
So, the whole church thing: you can spot the next town coming up by the spire of the church, much as in the Midwest it’s silos that announce an impending town or crossroads. I started documenting all the churches we’ve been passing. Well, not ALL because there isn’t enough memory in my phone to get every one. There are a lot and a lot of little chapels. Some similar construction, but each one has a different twist whether it’s brick or stone or a mix, and simple or elaborate decorations. I haven’t decided whether to keep it up or not, but I’ll see. Maybe I’ll just stick to those that really stand out, at least until we get to Gaspé and views of the rocky shore and ocean front.
For now, 530 miles under our belts in 8 days — 66.25 miles per day average. And another good night’s sleep earned! From here, circumnavigating the peninsula and heading home from Montreal after John flies out, I should end up with over 2,000 miles by the time I’m home in late August.
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