MontérégieFrom Lake Champlain to the Richelieu River Valley
After a good nights sleep in the Terry lodge and a short walk after breakfast. It was time to depart for Canada. We would have only about a ten mile ride to get to the border. Just down the road from the lodge was this really beautiful outdoor chapel. It almost looked like something you would see in Maui (given the open style seen in the tropics), not in the middle of Lake Champlanin. This site commerates the oldest European site in Vermont going back to 1666. And not too much further down the road was this beautiful rest area just to look out onto the lake and contemplate. I only wish. We had to get back on the road and start peddaling. As the wind started to pick up we really got to take full advantage of an increasing tailwind.
Just up the road we had the option of staying on the main road and heading west to Rousses Point, New York before heading north to Quebec; but since I got a speeding ticket 20 years ago on that little sliver of New York state I said 'No Thank You`. We instead veered off to the right on Vermont 225. As we rounded a corner you could just make out the Canadian flag and I didn`t notice even a building until we got about 200 feet from the border. This was a real eye opener. After growing up in San Diego, California I am used to a border crossing that has sixteen lanes and an hour wait on weekdays. We were the only car, I`m sorry people for miles around. In the 12 minutes after we made the right turn onto this road we were the only ones on it. As a southern Californian my first thought was how can they afford to keep this open.
As we approached we were asked by a young border guard if we were American citizens while I tried to get a snapshot. I was immediatly told that this was a secure area and that photographs were forbidden. I wanted to say `Come on, man. The only thing I see here needing security is corn, cows and silos. Oh yeah and the horribly maintained road on the Canadian sign.` But oh well, I went through the questioning. Do you have any alcohol or tabacco on you? `No` (Yeah right here in my handlebar bag). Have you ever been arrested before a judge? `No`. Have you ever been refused entry into Canada? `No`. Come on...I mean who do I look like, John Lennon. After reviewing our passport we proceed to tell him to `Have a good Day` (In English of coure), and to possibly loossen his shorts. Just think, last year I didn`t even need a passport.) I felt like telling this guy, you want to really see some action go to Tijuana on a summer three day weekend, none of this in the middle of the corn field Jack Daniels and high blood pressure medication stuff there.
Any way, did I mention the road leading from the border station was BAD...as in Tiju
ana bad...hey maybe the do have something in common. Any way it was good to be over the border so quickly in the morning so I could start practicing my French. Along the way we meet Michele a transplanted Brit who now lives in Montreal with his wife. He was headed south from Montreal to New York City. This guy who was not young, was really loaded down. He was also a real character. He says he does the trip at least once a year and usually brings his wife but she was not feeling so good this time. With his gear he says he usually just finds a place hidden off the side of the road and just sleeps there. Any way this was the first bicycle tourist (at least fully loaded) we saw and it was good just to talk with him for about 15 minutes.
As the road got progressively better we made the left had turn onto highway 202 and were soon heading over what may have no longer been Lake Champlain but now may have been the Richeleau River. About two miles into Canada we started seeing the Route Verte Signs and now as we crossed the river we could see the sign pointing north as we made a right turn onto 223 near Lacolle.
Once the signs pointed us away from the river and out into the cornfields it was now evident that we had the roads to ourselfs. With only a handful of cars over the next hour the roads were pretty much to ourselves. We could easily here oncoming cars long before they approached. It gave me a chance to eat that apple I smuggled over the border from Vermont. I applied sunscreen and drank some more water all while riding down the middle of the road. This is where we first encountered the `Watch out for les enfants` sign. The sign is your typical children playing ...Hey watch out! sign but in truley Quebecois fashing that dont hold back graphically. There in a yellow and black sillohette is a picture of a young girl with severe lacerations lying on the grown with a shoe and a sock on one foot but missing the shoe on the other foot. You cannot tell if she is alive or dead but you get the picture (so to speak).
After passing (I think) 16 locks we eventually reached Chambly, a town noted for their beer. So after we got a room for the night we started looking for a brewery or brew pub. After stopping at the local bike shop Velo Chambly (which is located right next to the canal bridge) to buy a water bottle cage. We asked for directions. He recommeded...Bedondaine & Bedons Ronds a local brew pub.
54 miles
138 cummulative miles
After a good nights sleep in the Terry lodge and a short walk after breakfast. It was time to depart for Canada. We would have only about a ten mile ride to get to the border. Just down the road from the lodge was this really beautiful outdoor chapel. It almost looked like something you would see in Maui (given the open style seen in the tropics), not in the middle of Lake Champlanin. This site commerates the oldest European site in Vermont going back to 1666. And not too much further down the road was this beautiful rest area just to look out onto the lake and contemplate. I only wish. We had to get back on the road and start peddaling. As the wind started to pick up we really got to take full advantage of an increasing tailwind.
Just up the road we had the option of staying on the main road and heading west to Rousses Point, New York before heading north to Quebec; but since I got a speeding ticket 20 years ago on that little sliver of New York state I said 'No Thank You`. We instead veered off to the right on Vermont 225. As we rounded a corner you could just make out the Canadian flag and I didn`t notice even a building until we got about 200 feet from the border. This was a real eye opener. After growing up in San Diego, California I am used to a border crossing that has sixteen lanes and an hour wait on weekdays. We were the only car, I`m sorry people for miles around. In the 12 minutes after we made the right turn onto this road we were the only ones on it. As a southern Californian my first thought was how can they afford to keep this open.
As we approached we were asked by a young border guard if we were American citizens while I tried to get a snapshot. I was immediatly told that this was a secure area and that photographs were forbidden. I wanted to say `Come on, man. The only thing I see here needing security is corn, cows and silos. Oh yeah and the horribly maintained road on the Canadian sign.` But oh well, I went through the questioning. Do you have any alcohol or tabacco on you? `No` (Yeah right here in my handlebar bag). Have you ever been arrested before a judge? `No`. Have you ever been refused entry into Canada? `No`. Come on...I mean who do I look like, John Lennon. After reviewing our passport we proceed to tell him to `Have a good Day` (In English of coure), and to possibly loossen his shorts. Just think, last year I didn`t even need a passport.) I felt like telling this guy, you want to really see some action go to Tijuana on a summer three day weekend, none of this in the middle of the corn field Jack Daniels and high blood pressure medication stuff there.
Any way, did I mention the road leading from the border station was BAD...as in Tiju
ana bad...hey maybe the do have something in common. Any way it was good to be over the border so quickly in the morning so I could start practicing my French. Along the way we meet Michele a transplanted Brit who now lives in Montreal with his wife. He was headed south from Montreal to New York City. This guy who was not young, was really loaded down. He was also a real character. He says he does the trip at least once a year and usually brings his wife but she was not feeling so good this time. With his gear he says he usually just finds a place hidden off the side of the road and just sleeps there. Any way this was the first bicycle tourist (at least fully loaded) we saw and it was good just to talk with him for about 15 minutes.As the road got progressively better we made the left had turn onto highway 202 and were soon heading over what may have no longer been Lake Champlain but now may have been the Richeleau River. About two miles into Canada we started seeing the Route Verte Signs and now as we crossed the river we could see the sign pointing north as we made a right turn onto 223 near Lacolle.
Once the signs pointed us away from the river and out into the cornfields it was now evident that we had the roads to ourselfs. With only a handful of cars over the next hour the roads were pretty much to ourselves. We could easily here oncoming cars long before they approached. It gave me a chance to eat that apple I smuggled over the border from Vermont. I applied sunscreen and drank some more water all while riding down the middle of the road. This is where we first encountered the `Watch out for les enfants` sign. The sign is your typical children playing ...Hey watch out! sign but in truley Quebecois fashing that dont hold back graphically. There in a yellow and black sillohette is a picture of a young girl with severe lacerations lying on the grown with a shoe and a sock on one foot but missing the shoe on the other foot. You cannot tell if she is alive or dead but you get the picture (so to speak).The Route begins to get back to the Richelieu River at Saint-Jean-Sur-Richelieu. Riding north along the extensive canal network we will ride for another 10 miles. The Richelieu River Valley actually starts at the northern end of Lake Champlain (the US-Canadian Border) and ends at Sorel-Tracy where it enters the Saint Lawrence River. The Chambly Canal starts at Saint-Jean-Sur-Richeleiu and continies on to Chambly. The Chambly Canal is also a National Historic Site and home of Fort Chambly.
After a few more miles in farm country we decided to have some lunch St.-Jean-Sur-Richeleu, the first town of any size we have seen since entering Canada. After riding from a few miles through the main boulevard through town we were are fuel tanks were getting pretty empty so we stopped at the first place we saw; an Italian Restaurant specializing in Pizza (Pizzeria St-Jean Restaurant). The restaurant is right on the main river road, rue Jacques-Cartier sud. After our late lunch we followed the route verte down alongside the river where the canal now began to appear, giving boat traffic a way around the rapids at St.-Jean. Much to our suprise with the added attraction of the canals there were all kinds of places to eat. Oh well thats part of the adventure. We were pretty hungry anyway. Well we knew we were on the right path, knowing that if we followed the canal we would eventually hit Chambly, the site of Fort Chambly.
After a few more miles in farm country we decided to have some lunch St.-Jean-Sur-Richeleu, the first town of any size we have seen since entering Canada. After riding from a few miles through the main boulevard through town we were are fuel tanks were getting pretty empty so we stopped at the first place we saw; an Italian Restaurant specializing in Pizza (Pizzeria St-Jean Restaurant). The restaurant is right on the main river road, rue Jacques-Cartier sud. After our late lunch we followed the route verte down alongside the river where the canal now began to appear, giving boat traffic a way around the rapids at St.-Jean. Much to our suprise with the added attraction of the canals there were all kinds of places to eat. Oh well thats part of the adventure. We were pretty hungry anyway. Well we knew we were on the right path, knowing that if we followed the canal we would eventually hit Chambly, the site of Fort Chambly.
After passing (I think) 16 locks we eventually reached Chambly, a town noted for their beer. So after we got a room for the night we started looking for a brewery or brew pub. After stopping at the local bike shop Velo Chambly (which is located right next to the canal bridge) to buy a water bottle cage. We asked for directions. He recommeded...Bedondaine & Bedons Ronds a local brew pub.
54 miles
138 cummulative miles
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