What’s in a Name

Day 73. Trois Rivieres to St. Joseph Lake. 73 mi. 4633 miles TTD. 2464 ft elevation. Weather hot with wind pushing

It’s probably inappropriate to say boringly beautiful, but there’s just more and more rivers, lakes, and shoreline, which are all beautiful. I was up and out the door a little after 7:00, so the first hour or two of riding was almost car free. Of course, being in Quebec even when the cars started coming out, I was on a nice shoulder and feeling safe.

Sadly, I have to admit that breakfast was at McDonald’s. It was on my route, open, and I understood the menu. Some of the written French I can figure out because of my limited Spanish vocabulary. When people start talking to me, I just smile. This evening, I dropped my while walking my bike to a side door and one guy followed me for about a hundred feet yelling in French, but I had no idea he was talking to me and trying to return my glasses. Thankfully, I finally turned around and said, “Merci,” but I’m sure I didn’t fool him.

When I got my bike in the side door, doing my usual sneak the bike to the room, I got it up to the third floor through the stairwell. Then I thought I would quickly rush down the hall and stash it in my room. Unfortunately, I ran into a wedding party that was coming in the opposite direction. It was the group of bridesmaids and the bride chattering and completely unaware of me or anyone else. I was stuck in the hallway with my bike waiting for the housekeeping folks to send me back downstairs with my bike, but thankfully, they didn’t.

One interesting difference from the other provinces is that even the smallest of towns has a giant cathedral. I’m I don’t know that this means anyone’s religious, but somebody at least was at some point in the past. I shouldn’t be surprised that they all have a shape similar to Notre Dame.

After about 50 MI along the Saint Lawrence, I cut northward towards my destination. This took me across some beautiful farmland. One of the major crops was corn. In fact, there are enough corn fields to compete with Iowa for production, I’m sure. That massive facility in the second picture was some sort of grain processing plant.

My destination was in the “mountains” near the town named Saint-Catherine-de-la-Jauques-Cartier. First, I have no idea why the French put a dash between all their words. Second, I have no idea why they have so many words to name a single entity. Can you imagine being John Claude Pierre Junior from St Catherine de la Jacques Cartier? You would probably be in the 9th grade before you could even tell anybody your full name and where you were from.

Traffic in the St Catherine de la Jacques Cartier suggested that everyone else was headed to the mountains and St Joseph Lake. Thankfully, there was a good shoulder, and I was able to get groceries before heading to the hotel. The hotel overlooks the lake and I’m feeling guilty for staying in such a nice place but I don’t remember it being very expensive. It is, however, beautiful and would make a wonderful family vacation, especially if you wanted to practice your french.

I’ll spend the Sabbath here resting, and then I’m off to Quebec City on Monday.