Vous Etes Ici - You Are Here

     We biked a trail yesterday that was probably once a logging road, but is now a bicyclist's road; no motors, no horses, and no dog walkers were allowed on this hard sand-packed excellent road.  And of course, great signage in French.

      Our 30-mile loop began and ended at our cabin in Albanel, Quebec on the far west side of Lake Saint Jean. The western side of Lake Saint-Jean is very windy with rolling farmland, pine and tree plantations, and thousands of acres of "wild blueberries". But the first part of this trail is a wonderful forest with dwarf-dogwood lining both sides of the trail.

 

Mostly pines but some birch . . .

     My sister's manual bike usually puts her last on the trail while my brother-in-law and I slow down our electric bikes so we don't lose her. But when my sister saw this on the trail . . . .

. . . she passed us and kept up an almost 20 mph pace without stopping! Most disturbing to her, when I finally caught up with her, was "it was fresh!"

     With my sister in the fast-paced lead, it didn't take long to reach the Mistassini River, where there was a cabin and toilet for a wonderful rest stop. The waterfalls were thunderous and furious of course; there's a tremendous amount of water in Quebec.

And these smooth shoreline boulders were also interesting.

My sister and brother-in-law celebrated their 16th wedding anniversary at the Mistassini River yesterday. Still as doting as two newlyweds!

 The trail strangely changed to a wide-open expanse of blueberry fields. But these blueberries are the lowbush variety in Quebec resembling the wild blueberry, a very tiny fruit harvested in August.

The berry is very small and turns almost black when ripe.

There are bike tours in August to the blueberry fields which turn a wonderful yellowish color during harvest.

We passed two beehive collections. Both were well-protected by fencing to keep bears out. My sister's comment, "There ARE bears here!"

   My brother-in-law's bike battery died before we arrived in Girardville, and when he saw this hill, he told us he needed an ice cream cone.

So my sister and I continued on to Albanel without him. The last eight miles were a seldom-used rural road which was peacefully scenic with farms, cows, hay fields and bales, and old barns.

     When we arrived at our cabin, she retrieved her husband's already charged back-up battery, got in their van and met her Sweety on the rural road with a kiss and a fresh battery. True love!