I woke up at 5 AM after a restless night in the hot confines of my tent. Even with the fly off, it was still uncomfortably hot, and I woke up damp with sweat on several occasions. I packed my stuff while dodging the thousands of little tiny fruit flys swarming around random spots. It was obvious by how warm it was that today was going to be another scorcher.
I didnt feel as energetic today as I did yesterday, most likely because of the poor sleep, but I still felt pretty decent as I cruised down the highway. The road continued to follow the river today, its banks lined with countless little docks, boats, and cottages. I passed through several more small towns, but this area was mostly a continuous stream of expensive riverside homes, and less about discrete towns. I continued like this all morning, making steady progress as the temperature climbed higher and higher, becoming oppressively hot.
I stopped for lunch in a town called Lancaster, which is relatively close to the Quebec border. The heat had begun to get to me mentally, without me being aware. As I left town, I somehow made a wrong turn, and began heading 90° to where I wanted to go. At least 20 minutes or more passed before I finally realized something was wrong. I checked my phone's map, and saw that I had strayed quite far off my path, and I knew I would end up having biked an extra hour or more by the time I fixed my mistake; one that was truely dangerous in the 43° humidex weather. Dismay, frustration, anger, and worry rushed in on me as I traversed back country roads, looking to meet back up with the highway just before Valleyfield. The blazing sun glared down on me like a cruel child with a magnifying glass as I dragged myself down the shadeless country road, only fields of crops in all directions. I was drinking as much water as I could, but I was becoming increasingly worried about coming down with heat exhaustion or heat stroke. After what felt like am eternity of walking on the sun, I finally reached the highway, and hid inside an air conditioned McDonalds for a while until I recovered.
During this ordeal, I had entered Quebec, marking the end of the three week journey through Ontario. I speak very little french, so Quebec will offer unique challenges in the form of communication issues. It didnt take long to demonstrate this either. As I entered Valleyfield on a series of causeways, a police car sounded its sirens and pulled beside me, gesturing towards me. I thought I was in trouble, and I became a little nervous. He passed me, and a second cop car pulled up beside me, and began speaking to me in french over the megaphone. Now I was really worried. I gestured implying I couldnt hear/ understand, so he rolled his window down, and when I informed him I didnt speak french, he switched to english. It seems it was only a massive, oversized transport load coming down the highway with a police escort; he was just telling me to get as far off the highway as possible. Such an amusingly simple thing considering how intimidating it came off as.
I finally arrived at MP's house, extremely heat dazed, and headed inside. The most wonderful sensation met me when I stepped inside: glorious, glorious air conditioning! This is what I waited for all day. After some more fluids and a shower, MP took me to get what she calls " real" poutine, courtesy of Quebec. Im not sure if Ive ever had "fake" poutine to compare, but I must say this stuff was pretty good.
I was quite happy to see MP despite being tired, and we caught up while I relaxed from the taxing day. Eventually it was time for a delicious supper and dessert with her parents, who were quite kind and happy to have me as company. Unfortunately, MP works nightshifts sometimes, and had to go to work for the night, but I will see her in the morning. Now its time to relax and relish the AC.
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