Wednesday, June 24, 1998: La St. Jean It was to be my first medium length bike ride of the season. I had not done too much biking that season to date. Of course, I was riding my bike to work, a short 20 minute jaunt each way. Even that, however, started late this year. I was lazy until on into late April. (I was out for an hour or so in February, however. I left my wife a surprise note on the car dash.) This season I had ridden once out to the end of the Lachine bike path. On another occasion I had ridden as far as the Dairy Queen in Lachne with my son, Alex. Also, with Alex, I had done a ride down to the Atwater Market, whence my wife picked us up. These short little jaunts of an hour or so had been my only outings so far. So, on this holiday, which started out as a warm, hazy day, I finally had a chance to ride for several hours. I could not take a really long ride, as I had to be back in time to get my son for supper at 6:00pm. I also knew that I physically was not yet ready for a long, long ride. I had hoped to get up and started at the crack of dawn, but I was weak. As it turned out, I did not get out of bed until 7:00am, and by the time I had breakfast and coffee, it was 8:00. On my way: 8:05 I left the house at 8:05, heading down Beaconsfield towards the bike path along DeMaisonneuve. I followed by normal route to work, riding along the railroad tracks, until I came to the intersection with Decarie. Decarie & De Maisonneuve: 8:15 Here I left my normal morning course. I crossed De Maisonneuve and went the wrong way on Decarie, along the sidewalk. I crossed under the railway underpass and rode the couple of blocks to the end (or the beginning) of Decarie at St. Jacques. Here, at the top of the hill, looking out over the cliffs across lower town, I could see what a foggy, hazy day it was. And yet it was quite hot, even for that early in the morning. I could not even see as far as downtown in the haze. I breezed down the hill, following my normal route to the Lachine Canal bikeway. I turned right at the bottom of the hill, and then another sharp right to backtrack along the bottom of the cliff below where I had just been. Then I turned left and took the truck street underneath the Decarie Interchange, crossing Notre Dame, and coming out at the bikeway. I rode up the ramp to the top of the levee along the Canal, crossed the bridge, and followed the bikeway east alongside the water. Soon I was at the Atwater Market. It was 8:30 Atwater Market to Nun’s Island: 8:30 From even with the Atwater Market, one must leave the bikeway to travel several blocks on the city streets before picking up the Riverfront bikeway. At least now, they have the path marked with bike signs. One travels one block east along the street, and then turns left, following a tiny street through the corner of Point St.. Charles. I made a short stop at a depanneur to buy some snacks for the ride, and a notebook to keep track. The small street crosses under the railroad tracks and then under the expressway heading for the bridge, coming up from the underpass into Verdun. The signs would have one continue along the street, but I know of a secret, hidden stretch of bike path. Less than a block past the underpass, one turns into the parking lot of Verdun Door & Glass. At the back of the parking lot is the un-announced entrance to this little two block section of path. The path climbs up behind the houses and follows along the top of a grassy hill between the houses and the expressway. At its end, it drops one down onto a tiny, forgotten half-block long dead-end street. It is a cute street. One one side are houses. On the other side is the abrupt wall of the elevated (at this point) expressway. Someone has planted flowers and ivy to alleviate the dull view. I imagine this street was not like this before the expressway was built. The tiny street ends was Wellington. One turns right and follows Wellington one block to Canadian Tire. There one crosses the official bike path, lttle more than a painted lane along the busy street. I turned left and followed this path along its final one block, until it ended at the Riverfront bike path. Two bike paths come together at this point. From far away Lachine, one path follows the river, passing through LaSalle and Verdun. It comes to an end at his huge polyvalent high school. Another path continues from there on over to Nun’s Island. And, of course, there is the short street connection with the Lachne Canal bikeway, the route I had just followed. I turned left, east, to follow the route to Nun’s Island. The bikepath crosses over a small inlet from the river, and then drops down and through a wooded section of land, right by the expressway. It is a short, pleasant section of path. The path reaches the river and climbs up to the same bridge that the expressway uses. The bike path section is separated from the speeding cars by a concrete barricade. One rides across the bridge over to Nun’s Island. This section of bike path is relatively new. I remember my first visits to Nun’s Island by bike. There was no way through the wooded section. Where there was no bike path, the people had made one. It was a tiny rut along the top of the road embankment, just on the outside of the traffic barrier. Riding it was very dangerous, especially in the rain (as I had to do once). At the bridge, one had no choice but to ride on the “sidewalk”, separated by nothing at all from the cars racing along at 120kph. I got to Nun’s Island at 8:45 Across Nun’s Island: 8:45 Coming off the bridge, the bike path veers right off to the right. In previous years, one had to follow the path a good distance into the residential section of Nun’s Island before one could cross the road and catch another bikepath leading across the Island. Nun’s Island is a fairly new and affluent community, made up mostly of condos. These are the young, urban professionals of the 1980’s. One corner of the island is occupied by the expressway as it makes its approach to the Champlain Bridge. To the immediate west of the expressway is a block-wide section of small office buildings, of the IBM and Bell Telephone type. This “industrial park” extends along the three block long, or so width of the island. Just west of this is the islands only shopping centre, also stretching three blocks. The shopping centre has this cozy, small-town look and feel to it. Behind the shopping centre, to the west still further, curves the island’s main road. It was along here that one traditionally rode along the groomed bike path. West of the main road, the rest of the island is composed of a spaghetti bowl of small streets lined with condos. I found to my surprise, at the first intersection, that a new section of bike path had been completed, which cut right across the island at its narrow eastern end, right along between the industrial park and the shopping centre. I was across the island in 5 minutes, reaching the main channel side and the bridge approach at 8:50. When I had been this way the year before, this last section of path had been all torn up by construction. I saw now the result of this construction, a brand new fire station, right by the shoreline. Across the Ice Bridge: 8:50 The bike path feeds right into the Ice Bridge approach. I stopped for five minutes to have a look out across the river and to take some photos. I was standing under the main Champlain Bridge and the lines of the bridge, as it vanished into the foggy haze, were very interesting. I looked out through my field glasses at the birds collecting on various rocky outcroppings within the white water of the fast flowing St. Lawrence. The Ice Bridge, just to the west of the main bridge, was beginning to glint in the emerging morning sunlight. The St. Lawrence at this point is about a mile wide, and is beginning to narrow from its vast, flat and shallow expanse below the Lachine Rapids. The river is picking up speed as it falls towards the narrows of the Expo Islands. The Champlain Bridge was built in the early 1960’s. It’s two expressway roadbeds rise gradually as they cross the flat river, until they reach the steel superstructure than carries them high over the St. Lawrence Seaway. The concrete bridge supports are pretty delicate. They are protected by the second bridge, the low Ice Bridge a couple of hundred meters to the west of the main structure. [This is in contrast to the supports of the Victoria Bridge, built 150 years ago. It’s solid stone pilings must be like fortresses to withstand the pressure of the Winter ice. This ice dam holds back the river ice so that it does not damage the main bridge. Atop the Ice Bridge is a two laned road. The bridge is very flat, crossing the river at a height of maybe 20 metres. It does not have to rise like the main structure, as it does not cross the Seaway. It only goes across the river, as far as the Seaway levee. There are pillars every fifty meters or so. In between the pillars, on the upriver side, are the massive steel ice-dams that can be lowered to stop the Winter ice. The ride across the Ice Bridge is long, and it is always windy. The wind invariably comes off the vast lake-like expanse of the river to the west. Crossing from Montreal to the South Shore is, therefore, fairly easy. Crossing in the opposite direction is a long haul. Bridge Crossed: 9:05 It took me 15 minutes to ride leisurely across the bridge. During this time, the haze lifted and the sun came out. I stopped at the far side for 5 minutes to take some photos and to look back whence I had come. The Ice Bridge ends at the Seaway levee. One can go to the left (east) towards the St. Lambert Locks. One would choose this direction to return to Montreal via the Ile Notre Dame bike trail, or to cross to the South Shore at St. Lambert via the bike path add-on to the Seaway Bridge. The St. Lambert Locks are about 5km downriver. The road is gravel in that direction. A large sign announces Chateauguay and Ste. Catherine to the right (west), about 12km. In this direction, the road is paved. The one direction one cannot go is straight across to the South Shore. The levee separates the river from the calm waters of the Seaway. Besides the dredged and marked section used by the ships, there is a quarter-mile expanse of shallower water, interspersed with tiny slands. Hordes of small craft navigage to and fro. I turned my bike to the right, towards Ste. Catherine. It was 9:10. The one laned paved road runs atop the Levee, which makes a vast semi-circle curver around the LaPrarie Basin. Far off to the west, one can see the bottom of the Lachine Rapids. The trees on the river side are quite dense, almost a forest. One can only see through from time to time. One the Seaway side, there is much less vegetation, and one can see the hightway following the shoreline. There are huge mile-markers along the way for the benefit of the ships travelling the Seaway. Just past Mile 6 I found a small shrine, dedicated to ?? (I think it was Luc Giroux), who died at that spot in 1978. A small path led down the steep embankment, some twenty feet through the deep underbrush and trees. It came out at a small, very isolated beach. I surprised a group of down-covered young ducklings, who swam out into the water in tight formation. Suddenly their mother swam sideways in front of me, in the opposite direction and making lots and lots of noise. A gravel road reaches from Ste. Catherine to around the mile 8 marker, just across from the town of LaPrarie. The road runs down along the river shoreline and parallels the paved road up top. [I used to come along this road, on solitary outings with Tannissa in my blue Honda, back in the middle 1980’s. There was only so far one could go without 4-wheel drive. And a big sign at the entrance warned one that passage was at one’s own risk!] I never made it as far as I was seeing the road now. Close to the mile 8 marker is an access point to the paved road. At about that point, I saw a big animal coming out of the bush. I think it was a badger. Alas, it saw me and retreated before I could get my camera out. At about 8 and three quarter miles I saw the first truck down on the gravel road below. It was parked. Soon there were camper trailers and tents. I guess this area is still a sort of “free for all”. [I learned, however, that the bridge is raised at the locks at 23:00. After that, one had better be prepared to spend the night!] By the time I had neared the end of the road, it had curved completely around to be even with the Champlain Bridge, now far to the east. Ste. Catherine Locks: 10:05 I reached the Ste. Catherine Locks at 10:05, after a ride of 55 minutes, with a number of short stops. There are a number of choices of direction at the Locks. One could descend the embankment onto the gravel road along the riverbank, leading back in the easterly direction. One could cross the drawbridge over the locks and go to the mainland. One could continue on the main road atop the levee, though it would become gravel again soon. Or, the fourth choice, one could descend the embankment to the west, still in the direction I was going, and enter the “Parc de la Cote Ste. Catherine”. This municipal park used to be a campground. It is a narrow bit of land, maybe two hundred feet wide, and it runs for maybe a mile or so, along the river side of the Seaway levee. The park starts right at the foot of the Lachine Rapids, and continues up past their beginning point. After the initial “beach” area and parking lot, the roads are closed to cars. Only bicycles and roller-blades cruise the old campground roadways. [The “beach” is fenced off and one has to pay. It is a small pond, surrounded by sand, with lots of lawn chairs]. I road up into the park and leisurely to the end of the roadway. Along the way, one could still see the campground space markers and the old, fallen-down facilities. The whole area was overgrown with wildflowers and other fauna. There were lots of trees. I stopped at several points to look out ove the rapids. There were even some belvederes built right up over the water. I watched the “Saute Moutons” jetboat ride up into the rapids, full of tourists. I managed to get a close up picture of it through my field glasses. [I also got a picture of the house of Nick Ostopkevich, out on one of the islands amidst the rapids, where we had had out office picnic back in 1990.] The rapids are stupendous! I sat for long minutes just watching and listening to them. They are much more impressive on the Ste. Catherine side that on the Montreal (LaSalle) side. At the end of the park is a fence, separating it from the beginning of the Kahnawake Mohawk reserve. There was a path, so I just had to follow it. I crossed a bit into the reserve, on foot, but then doubled back. They do not take well to trespassers. As I was riding back through the park, I saw a big ore ship parked along the Seaway. I would have to climb back up to the road atop the levee to look at it. I found a convenient entrance to the park, and followed the road back up the embankment. Just as I reached the top, I saw a small passenger ship, the Nantucket Clipper, that was moving through the Seaway. I bicycled rapidly down the road until I overtook it and got far enough ahead to get some good pictures. I got a picture of the ore carrier to, as it was unloading. I rode along the road until it came to the barrier of the Mohawk Reserve, where I had been not too long before, but down below. A huge sign greets drivers and warns them to proceed to further, “This is Indian Land” I turned and rode back along the road, and then took the entrance back into the park, and followed the park road back to the Locks. It was 11:50 when I got back to the Locks. Crossing into Ste. Catherine: 11:50 I crossed over the drawbridge and came down the embankment on the mainland side of the Locks. At that point, there was a small, grassy park. A lot of minor watercourses bore extra water away from the Seaway. I crossed another bridge as I descended, and then there was a small pond, fed by water coming from yet another small dam. I stopped for an iced cream at a small casse-croute just across from the Locks park, and was there until 12:05. As I was leaving, I happened upon a roadsite shrine, to Kateri Tekwakwitha, the Mohawk girl of the 1600’s who is on her way to being named a saint. I took some photos. The road leads away from the water quite quicky, as one can follow the Seaway no further on the mainland on account of the big factories, and then Kahnawake. Soon I was riding along a suburban boulevard heading directly away from the river. There was a painted bikepath along the side, but no trees or anything else that would make a cyclist want to ride there. After several long blocks, I came to the intersection of the main highway, route 132. It was the scene of strip malls and giant parking lots. The street I was on continued across, complete with bke path. I could not think of anywhere interesting such a path might go, so I decided to turn left on route 132. I remembered that there was an Orange Julep down the road, and I suddenly had a hankering for a big, cool orange julep. I followed along route 132 for several kilometers before I got there. Although the highway is very busy, and cars and trucks race along at 120km/h, there is a wide, paved shoulder that one can use for bicyles. The Orange Julep is almost in the town of Delson. It was 12:25 when I got there. I only stayed for five minutes or so, just enough time to quaff my cold orange drink. I headed back the way I had come, for a block or so. It was kind of sad to see the few remaining signs of when this stretch of road had been country. There remained a few tiny motels and a few old farmhouses. These were being smothered by parking lots and big stores. I was close to the railway museum in St. Constant, so I decided to ride over there. The sign at the crossroads of route 209 said the museum was 2 kilometers, but it was the longest 2 kilometers I could remember riding. I go there at 12:45. I hung around for a while, seeing as much as I could see without paying for entrance. [I was last at this museum in 1984, with little Tannissa, and with Loretta, Pheleshia, and Lelana]. I At 1:15 I started heading back. I had passed, not too far along route 209, a suburban road leading west that seemed to have a nice bikepath along it. I figured I would try it, as it had to be better than route 132. I followed this “Chemin Ste. Catherine” along, riding on the bike path that was amidst a strip of grass to the side. All around was suburbia. Little shacks were sprouting up like weeds. One could clearly see by the waterways we crossed that this area had been swamp not too long ago. I did not think it would be very comfortable living. I came to the intersection of another bike path, following the overhead hydro line off to the south. I did not have time to follow it. As I went along, suddenly the road curved to the south. I could see it would not go through. I started picking my way through the suburban maze to find a route back to highway 132, which had been roughy parallel. [I came this way back in 1993, on my way to the U.S., I had followed route 132 as far a Delson, where I turned south on Chemin St. Francois Xavier. If I ever do that again, I will remember to cut south to Ch. Ste. Catherine, and head east along there. It is a much nicer ride.] Having reached highway 132 at last, I rode west along the shoulder. Soon I had crossed into the Indian reservation. All development stopped at the line. Inside were just a few roadsite cigarette stores and a few gas stations. I rode along until I got to the Mercier Bridge at 1:40. I’ve crossed the Mercier Bridge a number of times, because it is convenient. It is quite dangerous, however, and must be approached with caution. Bicycles are not allowed on the roadway. There is, however, an un-advertised pedestrian walkway. It is barely a yard wide, and not separated from the roadway by more than a simple curb. To get to the sidewalk, I had to ride under the bridge, to where the traffic coming from Monreal descends to the west, heading towards Chateauguay. The sidewalk stops at the end of the bridge structure. One must walk up the embankment, on the edge between the highway and the railing, and facing the oncoming traffic.. Once one reaches the bridge structure itself, one can get onto the sidewalk. I can only assume that some agreement with the Mohawks over building the bridge requires this sidewalk to be kept. But whoever maintains it does the absolute least. When I reached the sidewalk I could re-mount and begin riding carefully. This would not be the place to fall off the sidewalk, as approaching cars are going in the opposite direction at 120km/h or more. At one point I met some oncoming cyclists. I got off and hugged the bridge railing so they could squeze by. The first part of the ride one climbs up to the high point above the Seaway. Then one must very carefully ride the brakes as one descends the steep slope. [When I have used this bridge heading southbound, I have gone onto the roadway at this point, as I could pick up enough speed to manage the cars. I would only be on the bridge roadway a minute or so] Once past the Seaway, the main structure of the bridge, and the approaches are pretty flat, but they bounce. It is disconcerting that when a truck passes by, the bridge will bounce a foot or so.. I was across the bridge and onto the Montreal (LaSalle) side by 2:00. The sidewalk ends at a tiny, unmarked pedestrian entrance. The road home took me across LaSalle on Newman Boulevard, then down into Ville St. Pierre and up the hill to Montreal West. Thence along Sherebrooke and Monkland to my home. I was home by 2:30