Gail and I hadn't taken a bike trip in several years, and at least one of us was anxious to get back to it. Even with a fancy, new bike, I wasn't too enthused about spending a few days on roads with distracted drivers, broken glass and chunks of sharp metal. Gail suggested Le P'tit Train du Nord through the Laurentian Mountains in Quebec. We planned a trip for the summer of 2023 that combined the rail trail with a few days of road riding, but wildfires put us off from that idea. This year we got there and scaled the plan down to only riding the trail; roughly 200 km.
No camping gear to carry, essentially no hills, only about 3-4 hours of riding a day? We mostly sat around and played the banjo I brought along.
We even took advantage of the shuttle that takes riders from a suburb north of Montreal to the northwest end of the trail. Unlike many of the lazy people we met that day, we carried our gear rather than have the shuttle take it to where we stayed each night. All we had was a change of clothes and a banjo.
Within a few minutes, we had left behind the small town of Mont-Laurier and were in the mostly boreal forests of Quebec. We didn't see any moose.
Our first night, we stayed at an inn on Grand lac-Nominingue. They served an exquisite dinner, likewise for breakfast, and had kayaks to use on the lake and a hot tub to ease our weary muscles from riding nearly 40 (flat) miles. That was about 30 miles farther than I'd ridden all summer.
The next day, we encountered some of the damage we'd been notified about from flooding when the remnants of Hurricane Debby passed through the area. At first, we just had to ride carefully over some gravel and debris, or get off and walk through it, but then we got to the major issue where the trail was completely washed away. Some people got around it and were able to carry their bikes over another, smaller washout, but we took advantage of the free offer from the shuttle service to carry us around to the other side.
Soon enough, we were on a brand-new, paved surface. We were also approaching the busiest section of the trail near Mont-Tremblant. It's an area with a fancy ski resort that we knew nothing about except there might be some decent hiking so we planned a day off from riding there and would stay two nights. As we approached the metropolis, there was significantly more traffic, enough to necessitate a center stripe to keep people on their own side to avoid collisions. This log was an obvious problem, and I couldn't understand why someone had gone to the trouble to cut it, but still leave the rest blocking half of the trail.
I thought of a solution.
In addition to carrying a small banjo, I was carrying a 40'' bow saw for just such an issue. Not. The tree was on the trail right next to one of the many golf courses in the area, and the maintenance garage happened to be right there, so I went over and helped myself to the bow saw. Now that I'm a convert to folding saws, I'm amazed I ever got anything done with these contraptions, but I got the tree off the trail before 6:30 am and before anyone else came along that morning.
The trail was more challenging than expected (at least for me), and pretty busy with more than just us taking it instead of the ski lift to the top.
Since it was a hot, muggy day, we took advantage of the large restaurant/food court and ate our lunch inside for the AC. There was a bit of smoke from western wildfires, but the view was still pretty impressive. The area at the top was a bit like Mt. Washington: a circus. It looks like they do weddings up there. We hiked back down rather than take the zip line or gondola.
One feature Gail was looking forward to on the whole trip was an abundance of French (Canadian) pastry shops. We ate really well, especially at the B&Bs we stayed at, but never quite found the pastry shop until the last morning. Her heart was all aflutter.
The last few kilometers, the trail followed the Riviere du Nord and snaked its way around some hills.
And our car was still right where we left it, fully charged and ready for the trip home.
With one quick stop in Montreal. Well, about 45 minutes of mid-day traffic to get to the Sans Gluten Bakery. Let me tell you, it is/was worth it. I'd do the whole bike trip to go back there again, but I think Gail has her sights on another Canadian rail trail on Prince Edward Island. Maybe they have gluten free pastry shops.
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