7/13/17 Of Pétanque and Poutine

July 15, 2017

It's not about how many miles you cover, it's about what lies in between.

Playing chess with the weather, we outwaited our opponent and scored a checkmate of a day. Weather swirled around us as we carefully calculated our gambit. When the opening appeared, we made our move out of Yamachiche and rode into perfection, finishing Québec with a tour de ferme and the waning of the St. Lawrence.

Skirting Montréal easily on route 640, we headed west toward Ontario. Following the Ottawa River for miles, we finally crossed over into Hawkesbury. And suddenly it felt like we were in another country. Francophones, that are perfectly bilingual, inhabit this small area leading to Ottawa. Schools are French, but English is taught throughout. A rarity in Québec, the Canadian Maple Leaf now flew freely next to the Franco-Ontarian flag. The blending of two cultures blurs the borders and presents a more universal appeal.

Choosing a charming spot just over the bridge, we sat by the Ottawa, ate our lunch and drank in the sun. Curious as to all the activity surrounding us, we wandered into the park. Dozens of sculptures, all from recyclables, decorated the area. We were fascinated by a group of people playing what appeared to be bocce. Recognizing our confusion, a friendly woman explained that the game was Pétanque, similar to bocce and boules, but played with hollow steel balls. There were a dozen "courts" and most were filled with retirees, who played three times a week. Fascinated, we watched the concentration with which the players made their shots, listened to the cheers that went up when a good play was made and had absolutely no idea what was happening. All we knew was that they were happy, friendly people enjoying life.

Strolling under the bridge, we met a boy and his raccoon. Found as a baby, the masked cutie clung to her rescuer as I gingerly stroked her coarse fur. Chatty maintenance workers filled us in on the history of this park and the area surrounding it. Logging brought settlers, commerce and jobs to the area in the early 1800's. Hawkesbury was booming for years. Now that logging has diminished, it is just a quaint little town. We drank coffee and ate ice cream in the old renovated mill and learned more about local history.

Pulling ourselves away from a most pleasant afternoon, we headed toward Ottawa. After our morning encounter with Montréal, we were confident in our ability to finesse our way around big cities. Our confidence was shattered by a gaper delay of over an hour. As we inched along in the passing lane, I tried to amuse myself by seeing what kinds of detritus had collected on the barrier. I was hard pressed to find any trash and amazed again at how clean Canada is. When I became bored of trash, I started counting Canadian Flags, maple leaves and long, long minutes. Finally we passed the disturbance on the other side of the road and flew free.

Renfrew is our home for the night and Poutine once again accompanied our meal. How many different toppings can you put on French fries? A chance meeting from some Mecum auctioneers, in town for the sale of the largest Allis Chalmers tractor collection in the world, had Jules salivating. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

By normal standards, we did not put on too many miles. Most of our time was spent enjoying local lore and scenery. A snag of a traffic jam did little to diminish the pleasure of meeting new people, hearing engaging stories and riding together into, what is for us, a new frontier. So once again, we played well and captured the day! Checkmate!