I slept in until about 8, relishing the comfortable bed and the other convenences of an indoor room as I got ready for the day. I headed back down to the harbour to catch a ferry across to Old Quebec City. This is the reason I pushed so hard yesterday. I had a nice conversation with a french cyclist as we enjoyed the scenic ride across the river; the iconic Chateau Frontinac looming above.
Wr parted ways once we arrived, and I made my way to the much anticipated splendor of Old Quebec. The narrow cobble streets weaved every which way, their old stone buildings lined along the edges, looking as if they were ripped right out of Europe and deposited here. I walked up and down these streets in the Sunday morning quiet, taking in the many art galleries, restaurants, and gift shops that make up the businesses here. Next was the epic climb up to the Chateau Frontinac, pushing my two tonne bike up a grade that would make mountain goats uneasy. My calves were on fire. The Chateau was as impressive as I remembered it, and the views over the city and river from its vantage point spectacular. More time spent exploring the shops of the upper section, and it was time to take the ferry back to Levis to begin biking. Just as I was arriving back at the ferry along the trail, I came across an ambulance parked on the path. They had a cyclist strapped to a spine board with a neck collar on. Once I circled around the ambulance, I found his bike on the opposite side, cleaved clean in two at the handle bars. I know most racing bikes are made of ultralight materials, but that still must have been one crazy crash to do that.
I finally started biking around 11 AM, and I left town on the same scenic trail I entered on. It was packed with cyclists and pedestrians, out enjoying the great weekend weather. After a while, it ended back onto the highway 132, and I once again followed it Northward along the shores of the St. Lawrence.
The number of bikes and motorbikes on the road outnumbered the cars, and with good reason. It was a beautiful day and the scenery as I drove along the upper rim of the river valley was spectacular; it was made to be enjoyed. I passed by countless yardsales, artisians selling sculptures and paintings, ice cream parlours, chip wagons, and even a roadside open fireplace where I bought some delicious homemade bread. Everywhere I went there were happy people enjoying the summer weekend with smiles of their faces. People I passed on the highway waved and smiled brightly. Life was good and I felt great; this trip was made for days like this.
I merrily cruised along all afternoon and evening, rocking out to my Ipod and singing along to songs that any soul unfortunate enough to be in earshot of my voice could not hear. I had started late, so I kept right on biking into the sunset, still happy to be biking. By nine I was pretty tired though, and it was almost dark, but there were no campgrounds for many KM. I ventured just off the highway, and found a perfect spot right on the beach. I set up and cooked a well deserved supper as I watched the last remaining rays of light fade over the water. Easily one of the best days of the trip.
It is amazing how yesterday's low turned into today's high. This trip has been quite the rollercoaster of emotion. From elation to misery, determination to dismay, zen to fury; Ive experienced it all from day to day and moment to moment. Ive been feeling things far outside the norms of everyday life, and it is as much a pivotal part of this trip as anything; it is all a part of the grand experience.
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