Day 6: Burke to Villette, QC

I’m back in Canada, about 15 km north of the border, in a private campground. Borders are such a big deal in so many ways, but really just arbitrary things. Despite that, I feel good to have crossed it.

The riding today was much more humane. I continued on the VTXL basically right from where I camped last night. About an hour in, I came across a couple around 70 years old also riding the route, though they must have been doing sections with a car parked somewhere or something. They told me I was coming up to a muddy class 4 road and I thought awesome.

It was tons of fun and more than a little dirty. I love these roads, they are so raw and earthy, and so much more interesting than 1.5 ft on the side of a highway. Other general notes about the riding today, I am 10 for 10 on getting across washed out roads and bridges, 8 of those being today.

The only town I went through today was pretty fancy (by comparison), and I got a photo worthy lunch, which I ate on the nearby beach.

I rode for maybe an hour in a wildlife refuge, which was beautiful. However, the only wildlife I encountered was myself. It rained for most of this section. Pretty light though.

Then I had my cry moment. Most of my bike trips involve some tears. After crossing the Golden Gate Bridge at the end of my first multiweek trip, after harrowing cliffside riding in Northern California, randomly on a bike trail in New Brunswick. Mostly, I believe these are moments of pure joy – appreciation of being alive and able to do the things I want to do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

It went like this. I had decided to skip the last 20 km of the VTXL for the efficiency and predictability of the highway. I was nearing the top of a 7 km climb on a power line corridor road, and I rightly assumed it would be the last big hill on that route. At the top, the view opened up to vast Vermont forests and rows and rows of hills. I stopped, gasped (literally) and just burst out crying. The picture is pretty much useless in conveying the moment, never mind the feeling, but here it is anyway. If you want to accompany it with the soundtrack, have a listen to this. (And then fall in love with Deafheavan, the best band I’ve come across in more than a decade.)

Then I bombed down that sandy, loose gravel road holding on to the bucking broncho that is my bike for dear life.

So Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont are done. I’m 200 km from Montreal, so about 800 from Toronto. A reader who came upon this site through the Dismount email suggested a rail trail between Montreal and Ottawa as an alternate to what I have mapped, and Brian may have some suggestions for stuff between here and home too. To be honest, I did all of 10 minutes of mapping this upcoming section of the ride, so tips are welcomed and appreciated.

P.S. also thanks to Alex for the fix on the auto pause settings in the Garmin! I will no longer be robbed of those hard won climbing stats, praise be.