Friday, 11 August 2006

Port-Cartier to Godbout (Quebec)

It was cold in the morning and I reluctantly dragged my body from its warm cocoon of sleeping bag. Outside I found that the sky was clear and the sun was not yet above the trees to warm the tent. I had some breakfast then packed up the tent - there was just enough breeze so that there wasn't much condensation on the flysheet. I set off up the hill to the 138 at 6:30 and stopped at a little restaurant on the 138 for a cup of tea to warm my hands with.

I wasn't much looking forward to the ride to Godbout as I expected the road to be much like yesterday - busy and with no shoulder. Even though it was still quite early the road was pretty busy and after a couple of short steep climbs (no shoulder, blind summits) the route was fairly flat so I could make good progress as the day warmed up to a pleasant temperature. There was nowhere to stop along the way until just after Riviere Pentecote (46 km, 9 am) where there was a small roadside restaurant. Measly portion of ice cream and tea that tasted of coffee. Yuk.

Quebec is a bit of an anti-climax after Newfoundland. It's not only that I have suffered from headwinds, but the road has been dull and, recently, busy. Most of the tourist information seems to be in French which makes me less inclined to stop and visit places. All the information boards I have seen are solely in French which is a bit of a surprise in a bi-lingual country. Admittedly in a lot of places in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland the information was in English in some places they were in both languages.

By 10:30 I had covered over 70 km (Of course the time is all relative; 10:30 here is like noon in Newfoundland) and had reached Ilets-Caribou where I stopped at a little restaurant next to a campground and had a lovely breakfast - my usual fry-up that came with some fresh fruit too so that I could feel a bit more virtuous; orange, kiwi fruit and a little pot of fresh 'bluets'. (Blueberries) Out of nowhere it seemed a heavy shower passed overhead and I had to dash outside to retrieve my long sleeved top from the back of the bike so that it didn't get soaked.

From Riviere Pentecote to Baie Trinité much of the road was by the sea and more pleasant, but I was lucky to have stopped to take a picture when a convoy of 6 articulated lorries thundered past. More than once I've been forced off the road onto the gravel shoulder. I was now trying to dodge the shower clouds and from Baie Trinité the road turned inland. There was a big bank of black cloud to my right and as I turned inland with the road, I was now underneath it. There were some peals of thunder. I could see some blue sky ahead of me but however hard I cycled it got no nearer; the black cloud seemed to hover over me like a giant hand. I cowered beneath it waiting for the sound of one hand clapping. It never came, only the next downpour.

With 20 km still to go to Godbout the road became very hilly, a roller coaster of a ride through the mountains. My average speed plummeted. With the rain, the hills and the shoulderless roads, the big lorries squeezing past in clouds of spray were enough to make me think of giving up cycling altogether. I didn't want Lac Rat Musque to be the last thing I saw on earth. Finally the sun came out again although by now it was a chilly 14 C.

Then with just 5 km still to go to Godbout, that familiar 'ping'...
There's 31 spokes on my wheel
But I'm still rolling along
Them Cherokees is after me
But I don't mind
'cause I'm singing a happy song...

There were a couple of good hills to go down, but now I had to go down slowly keeping a good look out for any rough patches in the road. I rolled into Godbout at about 3 pm just in time to hide in the Tourist Office from another passing shower. They didn't charge me to use the internet as it was so slow and kept popping up windows of scantily clad 'ladies' - and reporting a virus.

Godbout is a small fishing village of about 300 people. It nestles between the mountains to the north and east and is dominated by the ferry terminal. I pitched my tent at the Gites aux Berges just a stones throw from the terminal and set about repairing the broken spoke. The blackflies were an annoyance once again, swarming around. I thought I'd seen the last of them.

I ate at the little restaurant opposite the ferry terminal before going along to visit the Inuit and Amerindian Museum with its displays of art and artifacts ($4) as it was getting dark.

Distance: 121.5 km
Cycling time: 6:20
Total distance: 5904.4 km