July 16, 2017, Day 56, Montreal to Sorel, Quebec 97 k

6:45am. The alarm went off but we were both already awake, still tired, groggy and headachy. Hopefully we’d start feeling better once we got outside.

Sunday morning is usually pretty quiet in the city and today was no exception. We headed back to Peter’s in laws to retrieve our bikes. People were about but there was none of the hustle of weekday mornings. It was cool outside, but not cool enough to need long sleeves or pants. Even this early we knew we were in for a hot day and we prepared for it by slathering ourselves with sunscreen. Both of us have odd uneven tan lines. Oh well…. I’ll concern myself with that once I’m plunked back into reality.

We plowed through our usual breakfast, said goodbye and thank you to Peter for hosting us and set out to find and cross the Jacques Cartier Bridge. There it was. The hard part was trying to figure out how to access the bike route across it. It’s a long bridge!     Eventually we crossed it and then had to find the bike paths that follow the river east. (Au bord d’leau.) That involved elevators and much hauling, lifting and navigating those awkward boards they put in stairways on which to wheel your bike. Those seldom seem to be on the convenient side. Finally we were on some nice bike paths, ready to rock and roll and put on some kilometres. The problem was that I didn’t feel well and that means I had to eat. Whenever I feel sick or headachy, I try to eat my way out of it. Most of the time it works well and it seemed to help today too.

We got into a Tracy-Sorel and started looking for a restaurant. The little place we stopped at, The Tracy Taverne advertised food but didn’t have any on  Sundays. We had a cold one and chatted to some locals seated outside on the patio.      I love having the chance to practice my French and people are awesome about it. I understand most conversations but every now and then my brain gets full and I don’t hear a thing. Anyway, it was very fun to sit outside with these folks. Starving though, we headed down the street where Charlie ordered pouting, a large one as a starter. It was everything poutine should be and fulfilled every reason as to why not to eat it. Delicious! Just once every Quebec trip. Can’t kill us, right?!     For a main course Charlie had lasagna and I, a Greek salad.

Mounting our steadfast steeds before it got too dark, we headed to the campground noted on our town map. The river was on our left, the water inviting, the sun hanging low and reflecting orange and pink on the horizon. Several boats were in view, including a huge one on which there was a boisterous party. There was a fine stretch of mown grass across the street from one of the houses facing the water. On a hunch, Charlie went to their door, knocked and asked if they owned that riverfront property. Indeed they did. “Well, would it be ok if we camped there tonight and left early tomorrow morning? ” “Only for one night?” “”Yes. We’d be gone early in  the morning.

It was so calm, and quiet save for the lapping waves against the rocks below us. We set up our home-away-from-home, watched the sun descend and Charlie went for a swim. I was hesitant about getting right in there as by the time I was ready it was dark, but I replaced my road dirt with river water dirt and scrubbed up as best I could. These are the unexpected, unplanned experiences that no money can buy. Incomparable!