DISPATCH FROM THE NORTH- How to ride the forests of Canada, get lost and get invited to block parties.
After a day and a half of being intimidated by urban traffic and Montreal’s somewhat confusing street scene, I finally ventured out on the Madone this Saturday morning. Montreal was ready for me, now I was to see if I was ready for Montreal.
I had spent too much time obsessing over bike maps, internet sites, and bike guides, and I was faced with hundreds of options. I decided to ride a metric century [100 kilometers or 62 miles] in deference to my Canadian hosts, and I also wanted to limit my time on the bike to 4-5 hours; I also wanted to get off the island of Montreal, then ride on the next island north [Laval], and then wanted to ride on the mainland [just north of Laval]. I also wanted to ride some of the Route Verte [the Green Route], a recently developed 4,000 kilometer bike way, centered in and around the Quebec Province. My exact course was to be determined in route.
As it was, I left the hotel lobby in the Old Port section of Montreal around 9AM, and didn’t return until around 4PM. My final mileage was 72 miles, a little over a metric century and my average was hovering around 15 mph. My slow pace was a factor of about 15 to 20 miles of urban riding [constant stop and go], about 40 miles of bike path riding [speed limit is 20 kph or 12 mph] , getting lost innumerable times [requiring a lot of map consultations] and, finally, deciding to take this at a touring pace and savoring all the sights.
I crossed Montreal from South to North via bike ways. Most Montreal bike ways have barriers, separate curbings, and even separate crossing lights. The urban system is very well marked and signed. As I approached the Riviere Des Prairies [north Montreal], the street system became confusing, the signage poor, and I got lost. I crossed the Riviere Des Prairies at Pont Pie-IX. But I needed assist from another rider to cross this bridge to Laval, and he then led me thru a maze of ways to get me back on course to the Green Route [Route Verte].
I biked the island of Laval from South to North almost entirely on very flat and well maintained bike paths. The paths are open from mid April to mid November, and striped down the center. I crossed over to the mainland, and away from both islands, at Bois-Des-Filion. In the woods of Filion I got lost; yes there was a mountain biking path in the Filion forest and I found it, or it found me. A very nice women hiking the Filion woods, speaking only French, invited me to a block party; I had passed some tents and loud music, before entering the Canadian forest. She pointed to her watch [11AM], and I understood the party was just starting, and it was “free”. I explained that I was lost; “Je suis loste”. I then asked her in broken french if she rode bikes, and could she lead me out of the Filion forests. She hiked off in a huff--she wanted to party, not take up road biking. I then decided to ride an east-west highway, Route 344, which follows the north shore of the Riviere des Mille Iles, to Saint Eustache. I wanted to cross the Riviere des Mille Iles, back to Laval, at the Pont Arthur-Sauve [a recommended guide book crossing].
The crossing was made and I got lost. I now have intimate and detailed knowledge of a small maze-like neighborhood concentrated around Rue Seguin and Rue Corteau. If you ever need I guide through that section of North Laval, I’m your man. I eventually reconnected to the Route Verte and got off Laval, and back onto Montreal by taking an old converted rail Pont [bridge]. The ride back in Montreal sent me through all sorts of parks, neighborhoods and even past the site of the International ten day jazz festival. I would be lying if I didn’t confess to getting just un petit loste. At one point Mount Royale was directly in front of and over my handlebars; my hotel destination was in the opposite direction; I corrected course. The last mile to the Old Port hotel was delayed by traffic streaming into the Old Port area for tonights fire works display. All summer long [on Saturday evenings] Montreal is host to international fireworks competitors
A couple of asides. Canadian riders just do not acknowledge each other as we all seem to; with a wave of hand, a head nod, etc. The closest I came to an acknowledgment was a wide mouthed smile from one on-coming rider. It may have been a not so subtle response to my riding with a map clenched between my teeth.
I saw no evidence of group rides, or group riders. I was admittedly on bike paths.
Ruth saw a Montreal bike cop chase down a taxi driver for failing to yield to cyclists.
Sunday morn will be an urban bike ride to Mount Royale, then along the canal system, then to the old Olympic Park, and/or rides to the South shore. My bike time is limited on Sunday morning, and I’m certain I’ll find time to get lost.
Russ