Toronto, Ontario

Heather insisted that we sleep indoors last night (Friday). Just as well, because during the night the heavens opened up and heavy rain came down. And the downpours lasted well into the morning. It turned out to be the most rain that had even fallen on Toronto on a September 8. With all the rain that I have seen since June, I am beginning to suspect that I should be hiring myself out in areas of drought. Invite me to come and visit and the rains will come.

Heather, Wayne and I had had a good visit the night before. Eliot discovered the black squirrels that infest Toronto and began seeing what he could do about Heather and Wayne’s backyard since we were spending the evening out on the deck. However, at one point he was inside looking out through the screen on the door, when Heather’s cat Dinah approached. Eliot warned her off with a few good barks which scarred the poor cat causing her to high tail it to the back fence. She was eventually rescued by Heather’s son, Nathan, and for the rest of the weekend there was a delicate dance to keep the two separated.

Heather and I had a walk down Yonge Street, across Davisville and up Mount Pleasant Road. So much had changed since I lived there 22 years ago. I guess I should have expected that. Later that day when Heather was off to her guitar lesson, I wondered around the neighbourhood with Eliot. In particular I visited the two places I first rented when I moved to Toronto in the 1970s. That first apartment has been replaced by a rather ugly office/commercial building at the corner of Mount Pleasant Road and Eglinton Avenue.

And the house on Taunton Road that I shared with friends (just around the corner from here) is also gone. I must have walked down this street many times during those years but much of it was quite unfamiliar. Well, it was over 35 years ago.

Heather and I on her back deck.

Tweed, ON to Toronto, ON

Today began with one of my back molars losing a filling (or perhaps I lost a bit of tooth). Damn those ju-jubes! You may ask what I was doing eating ju-jubes at 10 o’clock in the morning but it is a question which will remain unanswered. An immediate trip to the dentist does not seem indicated so I think it will wait for my return to Victoria.

We left the boys at Riverside RV Resort and made the drive from Tweed, Ontario to Peterborough in a little over an hour. First on the agenda was a visit to the Peterborough Lift Lock. It’s a kind of elevator for boats. As one big tub of water goes up, another comes down. The two huge weights counter-balance one another although the lift going down has more water in it so that it will push the other to the top and not have them get stuck it approximately this position.

Just as we were walking up for a closer inspection, a fellow in a motor boat came along and the operator shouted for him to enter the lock on the left. Very soon the whole contraption was in motion. The tiny motor boat was in the lock on the left. Because of the counter-weighted system I can’t imagine that it takes a lot of extra energy to run and so I assume it’s not big deal to run this huge apparatus with for a 50 pound motor boat. I have to say that the captain of the motor boat weighed considerably more than 50 pounds.

Then it was on to the Canadian Canoe Museum. I wasn’t quite sure what I would do with Eliot because it was warm and very humid. But the two women who were at the door showed me a hoot where I could tie him in the vestibule. They even ran and brought him a bowl of water. I had been so looking forward to seeing this wonderful zen-like museum. The museum is a history of Canada told through the canoe and its many versions and incarnations over the years. Unfortunately after about 15 minutes I began to notice (from the third floor) a bit of yipping and yapping from you-know-who left along downstairs. I returned to the entry way and gave him a bit of a talking to and returned to my tour. The yipping and yapping continued so I speeded up my tour.

The two volunteers were quite understanding and said they didn’t mind at all as I was the only person in the museum at the time. One of them even took Eliot out for a brief walk to see if that would calm him down. I was glad to get to see the museum and most of its artifacts even if I had to rush a bit.

We finally left Peterborough by mid-afternoon for the drive into downtown Toronto. I had called my friend, Heather, a few days before and suggested we could drop by for a night or two if she and the family weren’t otherwise occupied. They weren’t so we were on our way. I don’t believe in all my years in Toronto that I had ever actually drive on Highway 401 or the Don Valley Parkway. But I did on Friday. The speed of the other cars seemed reasonable and no one was impatient. Helmut was able to keep up quite nicely. And we got to Manor Road East near Eglinton and Yonge at around 4:30pm

Onward to Ontario

Yesterday we hit the road in earnest and made it from just outside Quebec City to Perth, Ontario. This involved whizzing down Quebec’s Route 20. I had tried to find a route that would bypass Montreal. I had no desire to take Helmut onto and and then off the isle of Montreal. I selected a town southwest corner of Quebec that appeared to have a bridge across the St. Lawrence. I typed this name into my GPS and we were off.

It seemed to work just fine. As the skyline of downtown Montreal began to appear over the steering wheel we were taken to Route 30 and began heading southwest ... just as I had planned.

However, I began to notice more and more construction. Perhaps a lot of other people had had my idea of bypassing Montreal. It appeared that the Quebec government was busy building, revising and extending roads to enable this. However, at one point the roads ahead did not correspond at all with what the GPS map was showing. So on the GPS screen, the car sailed off into space where no roads were shown. I started watching signs very carefully and eventually all was well and we ended up where I had hoped.

We eventually arrived at Smith’s Falls, Ontario where I had a look at the some of the locks on the Rideau Canal (and thought how pleasant the canal looked for paddling). There then ensued a hunt for a place to camp overnight. The roads were maddeningly numbered and it took forever to find a provincial campground that looked promising. I had been warned about the high fees at Ontario’s provincial campgrounds but I was not quite ready to pay almost $40 for an unserviced campsite. To make matters more annoying there wasn’t even an attendant at the campground so it was up to you to find a campsite (no maps were provided on paper or signage), then return and fill out an envelope and deposit cash (if you were lucky enough to have the exact change as there was no option to leave a credit card number). We left!

Other roads led us to Perth, Ontario. It, like Smith’s Falls, is a lovely old Ontario town with lots of lovingly restored buildings and heaps of history. As we passed through Perth, we came across a municipal campground run by the town. There was no attendant but no matter, the sign said that the attendant would come around later. By 10:30am today the attendant still hadn’t showed up so we got free camping for a night. It was quiet except for some distant railway noises and had great showers. No free or pay wi-fi though.

 

Mural of quilters in Perth

Today was a lazy day with only a short drive down to Frontenac Outfitters to see their H2O canoes. I resisted the urge to pull out the Mastercard and secure one to Helmut’s roof.

Then up so Riverside Campground never Tweed, Ontario where it is very quiet and peaceful and they have a lovely swimming pool which was refreshing on another warm and humid day.

Métis to somewhere south of Quebec City

It seemed like a lot of driving today but really we haven’t come all that far. Perhaps if I’d stuck to the four lane highway we would have made better time. But we’ve been travelling Quebec Route 132 ever since we entered Québec Province. All the way up around the Gaspé and down the south side of the St. Lawrence River. Route 132 goes almost the whole way to Ontario but seems to disappear for a bit (on my maps) around Montreal.

I suppose that Route 132 is the original highway in those parts. Around Rimouski a four lane divided highway starts and you can have Rte 132 pretty much to yourself. There are all sort of interesting villages and almost all have at least one ice cream shop called a ‘laitier’.

I blindly followed Route 132 into Lévi, Quebec (across the river from Québec City). It was around 4pm and it hadn’t occurred to me that they would have a rush hour. All of a sudden it was bumper to bumper; stop and go. I tried Route 20 (the four lane freeway) and it was just as bad. By the time we’d passed the exits to Québec City I was ready to stop for the night.

A sign for a campground indicated it was five kilometres away. A reasonable distance and likely to ensure that the campground wasn’t beside the highway. We twisted and turned through country lanes. Very rural.

We finally came upon the campground and it was massive. One of those places that doesn’t even have tent sites and a lot of sites that are seasonally occupied. There’s even a campground restaurant, swimming pool and man-made lake. But the best was yet to come. Clearly visitors weren’t arriving in droves and when I asked about a campsite I was told it would be $46.00. I think I must have given the poor gal one of my looks. I explained that I didn’t need a site with ‘services’ (electricity, etc.) but she explained that all the sites had services ... there were no sites ‘sans’ services. I was able to beat them down to $36.00. Even though I was tired and wanted to stop, I was having trouble with paying almost $50.00 to park Helmut for the night. And, I think they were hesitant to lose an easy sale given that trailers weren’t exactly lining up to get in.

But here’s the best part. When I asked about wi-fi/internet, the poor gal had to tell me there was a charge of $5.00 for 24 hours. I think I may have laughed out loud. I said I’d think about it. Next morning I discovered that I needed a quarter for the shower (which, of course, I had not brought along). Sheeeeesh!

One of these things is not like the others;
One of these things just doesn’t belong.

Forillon National Park to Grand-Métis, PQ

Today we pretty much drove the entire north coast of the Gaspé Peninsula. It’s a spectacular drive. At first there are huge headlands that the road twists and turns up and over. Then things become a little less mountainous and the road hugs the coast for miles and miles. There are long sections with only a cement breakwater between the road and the ocean. And there are signs with a big wave and a car skidding. I’m assuming that during winter storms the waves splash up and over the road somewhat the way they do at Ogden Point in Victoria.

The towns and villages are farther apart on the north shore as well. I’ve already forgotten what this one is ... Grande-Vallée??

A little further down the road I went in search of coffee at the little café across from this lighthouse. The woman who ran the place which was also a gift shop had just taken fresh baked cookies out of the oven. The little village where this lighthouse is situated is called Sainte-Madeleine-de-la-Riviere-Madeleine. I suspect there are people who have moved rather than have to write that as their return address.

Sometime later we arrived in the village of Marsoui. Along the water they have a public park where I discovered my next photo exhibits.

Also in the park was this much decorated boat which included a quote (in French) by Kahlil Gibran.

There was a little canteen on the edge of the park which seemed to be heavily patronized. I had a ‘trio’ which included a hamburger (not huge but satisfying), a bag of ‘frites’ and a can of pop. The french fries were delicious as they were made from scratch from real potatos not those detestable refried frozen things.

Back on the road, the little villages whizzed by. Our next stop was at Cap-Chat (Cape Cat?) where we discovered our final photo exhibit in the local park or ‘halte’ as they seem to be called. Almost every little village along the way ... sometimes just a few kilometers apart ... seems to have one. It’s great for travellers as you always know there’s a “facility” not far down the road. And I suppose it does encourage people to stop and spend money locally. However, the tourist season seems to be very short. Today (Labour Day) there were not many people on the road and some places had already hung out the ‘fermé’ sign.

 

 

 

In any event, this last collection of photos was quite wonderful. There was a collection of portraits taken by Christian Lamontagne of folk from the Imperial Valley in California.

Tonight we’ve found a $19.00 campsite with free showers and a lovely view of the St. Lawrence River (at least until it got dark). It’s near Grand-Métis which is pretty much the end of the north shore of the Gaspé Peninsula. We’re also within earshot of the highway but even that is beginning to quiet down.

Forillon National Park

It had to happen and this morning it did. Eliot and I headed out around 11am to explore parts of Forillon National Park other than our campsite and the nearby beach. We took a short drive to the end of the road at Cap Bon Ami. When we arrived I discovered that I’d driven down the road without lowering the pop top on the Westy. I’ve read it’s one of those things you eventually forget to do. I also drove away once without pulling in the power cord. Oh, well. At least there weren’t any underpasses. I did NOT take a photo.

Our campground that we camped at in the north side of the park was very fine. A little shade; a little sun. And the beach was just a short walk away. The north side of the Gaspé Peninsula is much more rugged and mountainous than the south side. Cliffs plunge right into the sea and Helmut was tested on some of the climbs.

I had driven the van (with the top up) down to the end of the road where these cliffs begin. When we arrived there was a big bbq going on and a bunch of people who all had apparently arrived on these odd hybrid motorcycles with three wheels (two on the front). I guess it’s the new best thing. In any event, if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, they had a blow up version of these vehicles being kept blown up by a noisy wind machine. Not exactly the sort of thing you expect to come across in a national park.

Despite the noise, the views were still astonishing.

 

 

 

Looking north to the tip of the Gaspé Peninsula.

We then headed to the south side of the park for a walk out to Land’s End. The other side is a little less rugged. There are not so many cliffs. And there’s an old gravel road that your can drive your bike along. I think Eliot may be beginning to feel his age so I don’t like to walk him too far. This route was 8 kilometers round trip so I put him in the carrier of the foldable bike and away we went. There were a lot of people on the trail and he got lots of waves and exclamations in French. And there were a couple of hills that I had to walk up. But it sure was a faster way to cover the four kilometers out. The effort was more than worth it. You can actually see the very tip of the peninsula.

Which this is NOT actually. But it’s close by.

And lots of birds riding the updrafts.