Out Spokin': Chapter 19: On to Quebec

Day 11: Tuesday, July 4, 2017
60 miles
Grand Isle State Park, Vermont, to St. Phillipe, Quebec

We got a reasonably early start today, on the road by 8:30. But our progress was halted temporarily while we waited for this bridge to settle down so we could continue on our way to North Hero Island.

Like a surfer coasting along the crest of a giant wave, we rode effortlessly along Route 2 through the Lake Champlain Islands. I spun my pedals easily at a steady tempo as I marveled at the occasional views of the lake, thankful for the smooth road, cool temperature, wide shoulder, and light traffic. Mornings like this are the pinnacle of bicycling.

And the terrific riding came with a happy memory. The first bicycle tour Rob and I took together was in Vermont. That was over thirty years ago. And we bicycled through these islands, mostly camping, but we treated ourselves to two nights at the North Hero House. I kept an eye out to see if it was still there, and it was. I remembered that we stayed in one of the units with a porch in front and a view of the lake. For a young couple starting out it was an extravagance. (Heck, it would be an extravagance even today.)

Sitting at breakfast those many years ago, we looked out over the tennis courts. Rob had played tennis competitively in college; I had only played recreationally. This was a day off from bicycling for us and we thought it might be fun to give tennis a try. We asked the staff if they had racquets we could borrow. They did. And we had a fun time of it even though Rob was much better than I. So when we got home, we bought a racquet and shoes for me. But when we played again, it wasn't fun because Rob would send the ball along the sideline when I was standing in the middle and I couldn't possibly get to it in time. Or he'd put a spin on it and laugh when I swung my racquet where the ball looked like it was going. I got pissed off and told him that if he was going to play like that then I wasn't going to play at all because what was the point if all I did was spend the whole time running after balls I had no prayer of hitting.

Rob decided that spending time together doing something he loved was more important than winning every point. So he started hitting the ball to me often enough to keep me in the game. He'd still throw in his trick shots, but occasionally he'd even let me win. It worked. Over thirty years later, we still play. And we've had many boisterous times on the courts playing doubles once our kids got old enough to join us.

Bicycling past the North Hero House opened up my box of tennis memories. And an appreciation of how my husband was willing to give up being competitive so that we could have so many terrific tennis moments together.

While we didn't stay overnight on North Hero Island this trip, we did linger over some morning treats.

What luck we had finding the Hero's Welcome General Store. Check out that cinnamon roll I am about to devour, and Rob's overflowing muffin.

Still early on the 4th of July, we shared the outdoor cafe with a few birds looking for crumbs, enjoying the view and a cool morning breeze.

It was inevitable that we would run into a parade on this 4th of July. The road into the little town of Alburgh was closed, but we rode past the barrier anyway and got to town as the parade was in full gear. Having seen enough small town parades and not wanting to wait this one out, we walked alongside as quickly as possible until the crowds had thinned enough that we could get back on our bikes and head out of town.

Then we arrived at the Canadian border.

In my experience with border crossings the Canadian border control person is usually a lot nicer than the Americans. This guy was a little tight-assed though. He asked where we were going and we told him Montreal and around Quebec. He looked at our passports, then asked, "Where are you staying in Montreal?"

I said, "I don't know the name of the place offhand, I could get it out for you, though." But I made no move to do so, because I had already decided it was too much trouble.

He did some more of whatever it is they do in the little booth on their computers then asked again, "Where are you staying in Montreal?"

I said, again, "I can't remember the name of the place. We're only going to be staying in Montreal two nights then we'll be camping around Quebec." I still made no move to look for our confirmation information.

He asked one more time, then let it go, and let us go. And it was about time for lunch.

Do you remember what we had for dinner last night? It was definitely a bare-cupboard meal - Liptons soup, cheese and crackers, pistachios, M&Ms. We still hadn't found a grocery store so stopping at a restaurant for lunch seemed like a good idea. It was hot and we were hungry and, thinking we'd be sure to find a restaurant, we passed by a park where we could have eaten the bit of the lunch food we had left. We came across a rundown diner, but they didn't take credit cards and we had no Canadian cash. We kept riding.

We rode through flat farmland. Lots of it, seemingly empty but for an occasional truck stop like you might find along a major highway. After a while it got a little boring. Where were the quaint little towns? Evidently not in this part of Quebec.

Finally we found a shady grassy spot next to a service station where we stopped to rest and refuel on what little snack food we had left.

Then, finally, we arrived at a small strip mall along the highway in Lacolle, with a grocery store and restaurant. I ordered poutine and a salad. The food was less than stellar but certainly many notches above last night's dinner. We lingered over lunch, sitting outside overlooking the parking lot.

Our goal for today was to get as close to Montreal as possible, where we had a room booked for Wednesday and Thursday nights. We didn't find any provincial or national campgrounds in this part of Quebec, but an online search showed several private ones along the way.

For the first time since we'd left home, we spent most of the day riding close together. I enjoyed having Rob's company nearby.

We found a KOA in St. Philippe. It was not cheap; KOAs never are. It cost $46, but we were able to purchase a few luxuries that added to our enjoyment of the evening - beer, ice cream, and even a game of mini-golf.

When we returned to our tent after playing mini-golf, I noticed dozens of twinkling lights. Fireflies! Growing up on Long Island, I'd spend many summer evenings catching them. But you just don't see them anymore and I often wondered, where did they go? And here they were. More than I'd ever seen in one place, a magical light show.