What a difference a day makes! The little village of Nominingue was quiet and the room at Auberge L'Ile de France was comfortable - sleep, welcome sleep! Ron and I arrived first for breakfast and learned about our host, Jay. Originally from France, Jay is a retired police officer. He purchased the B&B about a year ago. Now THAT's a do-over! We were soon joined by Drew and Bridget from Boston and another couple from Montreal. She is an avid cross-country skier (she explained that Montreal is surrounded by trails all winter), and he is a semi-professional cyclist. They had pedaled 100 km from Val-David to Nominingue the day before hauling 100 pounds of gear, training for an upcoming bike packing trip in Menorca (one of Spain’s Balearic islands in the Mediterranean Sea). They were cycling back to Val-David today. It was fun to hear about past and future bike packing trips over breakfast - this is how we get our crazy ideas!
It was another glorious, sunny day, and the temperature reached into the 80's. Although distance-wise, our day was almost exactly the same as the day before (55 km), today's ride was ever-so-slightly downhill. So instead of pulling our gear, our gear gently pushed us!
I continued to be enamored by the friendliness of my fellow cyclists. With very few exceptions, every oncoming cyclist we encountered met us with a smile, a nod, and a "Bonjour!". I needed no encouragement to "Bonjour!" back. And so we pedaled, smiled, nodded, and bonjoured our way along the beautifully maintained and paved trail.
This segment of our ride had lots of water. We hugged lake after lake, their far shores dotted with pretty lake houses and docks. We were impressed that Le P'Tit Train du Nord occupied the best real estate - all lakefront. In addition to the lakes there were streams and rivers, often on both sides of the trail, and sometimes far below the trail. We have become accustomed to the dark red hue of the water, from the high iron content. At one point, the river we were following broke out into rapids, and my bike took off, hitting almost 20 mph. Wheeeee...
We stopped mid-morning for our second breakfast and a cup of hot coffee from my thermos and lingered a little longer than usual so that I could journal.
About 10 km from the next restored train station at La Belle, traffic picked up - younger, faster, and not interested in bonjouring. Oh well. There were a lot of people gathered at the La Belle station, and we ran into almost everyone from the bus, including the nuns! I told them the nickname I had given them (the Nuns on the Bus) and they loved it! No, they were most certainly NOT nuns, but they immediately started referring to each other as Sister Cindy, Sister Marie, etc., and the oldest of the group became Mother Mary. One of them even asked me to call her family and tell them I thought she was a nun: "They'll never believe me".
After La Belle, the trail changed from paved to packed pea gravel. Delightful surface - not too wet (no mud) and not too dry (no dust). We stopped often for photos and just to soak it all in.
Even where the trail ran parallel to the road, we rarely saw or heard traffic.
At the end of the day, we arrived at the big and beautiful Lake Mercier at the base of the Mont-Tremblant ski village. And suddenly we could have been in Beaver Creek or Vail Colorado. The summer tourists were from all over the world, and various languages floated and blended among young and old, families and couples, middle-schoolers on skateboards, and old hippies on rollerblades. Fancy restaurants mixed with bike shops serving soft-serve ice cream and paninis. Sunbathers lounged at the beach, while swimmers splashed in the lake.
On the lake, but hidden from view by the trees, a little wooden gate gave us access to our own private dock. Our swimsuits had not survived the final wardrobe cut for a spot in the saddlebags, so I had to settle for splashing my feet in the cold mountain water while Ron sat in an Adirondack chair in the shade. The lake was so clear I could see all the way to the bottom, and could study every little fish that came to examine my feet.
A courtesy city bus near our B&B transported us up to the ski village where we had our choice of cuisine for dinner. We ran into two of the couples from the bus who now were like old friends. We explored the village together, then split up to eat.
Without planning, we found each other again at the end of the evening, waiting for the same bus back down to the lakefront where we were all staying in different hotels and B&Bs. Of course, we also ran into a few of the nuns, who were staying up in the ski village. The village was preparing to host the Canadian series Ironman competition the following weekend, and we could see the swim entry layout from the pier as we watched the sun set over Lac Tremblant. Tres beau.
A short bus ride and we were home, sweet home.
Bike Talk
Nominingue (km 146) to Mont-Tremblant (km 91)
Distance: 34.25 miles ( 55 km)
Biking Time: 3 hours and 25 minutes
Average Speed: 10 mph
Top Speed: 19.3 mph
I’ve done Ironman Mont Tremblant. It was awesome. We love that area.
So enjoying this latest travel journal. The pictures are magnificent - it is a wonder you did not take twice as long to go the distance wanting to record those views. Great narrative - feel like we were along for the ride. P and S