“Find Jesus, then take the second right”.
These were the barmaid’s directions to a free beach-side camp spot. When so much of the route is long stretches on turn-free roads, directions become a lot more succinct.
The evening was soggy, with a downpour outside where our bikes and currently unfound campsite were, but not inside the cosy microbrewery where we were enjoying a pitcher of thick stout. Beer always tastes better when you’re sheltered from the weather; but slightly less so when the forecast foretells an inevitable soaking on the way to, and while setting up, camp.
There was no waiting this one out, so we set off. 6km back toward Kamouraska and into the gloom, with only a wooden statue of Jesus – one of hundreds scattered around Québec – to guide our way.
The change in weather was impressive. Before the torrent and the cold arrived we’d spent the day “comfortably topless”, as Alex put it. On the way to camp we were in full waterproofs and warm layers, but riding through occasional pockets of air that were 5-10° warmer than the rest – a sensation I’ve never experienced before.
But the forecast also foretold a dry and sunny tomorrow morning, so we held out hope for the cosy smugness of being in a well pitched tent, knowing we’d be dry tomorrow regardless of what nature threw at us during the night.
The morning brought sun for drying tents and clothes, and wind perfectly directioned for blowing us along our route.
Another reminder that tribulations and sogginess are temporary.
Next post: Epicurus
Previous: All the Half-Ways Gone