June 28, ‘82
It’s 6 AM and I’m sitting in the kitchen of the youth hostel in
Matane, drinking coffee. Out the window is a beautiful view of the
St. Lawrence Seaway. I think the clouds will burn off as the day
progresses, but right now it’s pretty overcast. So far the bicycling
has been excellent– sun, wind at my back, and beautiful scenery. I
do not have a routine yet. The next youth hostel is 90 miles down the
highway. Maybe my routine is about to begin.
Today it’s been overcast and wet—just a little sunshine. With a 15
mile per hour wind in my face it soon became apparent that I would not
make it to the youth hostel, so I set up camp alongside some power
lines. I have a nice view of the St. Lawrence Seaway, but the black
flies are bad, so here I sit in my tent, unable to move, and looking
forward to turning in early.
When I biked out of Matane, as I crossed the river, I counted 15 fly
fishermen. It was the last day of the town’s shrimp festival. Last
night, I happened upon a group of musicians playing French Canadian music in
the town center. I think I’m really getting a feel for that music. I
like it. Oh, and I don’t want to forget to mention the flower gardens
of Grand Metis. They were absolutely gorgeous. Rows upon rows of
yellows, reds, blues, you name it, the most beautiful flowers I have
ever seen. To bad the weather didn’t cooperate. Also, in Mont St.
Pierre a huge cliff overlooking the water provided a platform for hand
glider take offs. I watched from a distance as a couple went airborne.
The town itself was nestled in a cove between two large mountains—very