Gaspésie Gambol, Day 6

Foggy Mountain Breakdown
Saturday June 27, 2009
Copyright(c) 2009, Jim Beachy

I’m sleeping as late as I possibly can. This is because at 4:00 AM when I got up and looked out the window of our hotel, the fog was so heavy I could not see the cars across the parking lot. So I decided to sleep in, since not only could we not see anything of scenic value, it would be downright dangerous to ride in those conditions.

Everybody has to wake up sometime, and by 8:15 I’m awake. I’m stunned to see that it’s sunny, it’s warm, and the fog has lifted save for a few wisps drifting by the hills behind the hotel. We’ve noticed that all meals here seem much more relaxed compared to our fast-paced lifestyle at home. Food seems to be prepared in leisurely fashion and is savored slowly. Breakfast is no exception. So after another episode of us practicing our French and the same waitress as we had last night practicing her English, it is 10:00 AM when we finally roll eastward out of Ste. Anne-des-Monts on Rt. 132.

The fog and temperatures conspire to play tricks on a traveling motorcycle couple. We start out under sunny skies and warm temperatures, then a mile later find fog drifting in from the sea with temperatures 15 degrees cooler. This route has some rough spots but in general this is a well-graded and well-paved road.

The bay is always on our left, and we pass miles of picturesque shoreline with millions of birds perched on the black rocks that line the shore. With the blue-green sea to the left and rocky cliffs towering above us to the right, the road winds a sinuous path as it skirts the shore and runs along the base of the cliffs. Every little bay seems to have a little village, and sometimes we get off the route to ride through a village or catch a fog-shrouded lighthouse on a hill.

Some of the topography reminds me of the Cape Breton Highlands along the Cabot Trail in Nova Scotia, but a major difference is that this road is flat, running along the sea, while the Cabot Trail runs along the elevations off the mountains and cliffs. All bikers have experienced roads where they are torn between riding and looking; this road is made for looking, as there are few technical challenges in this section between Ste. Anne-des-Monts and Cap Madeleine.

The times when the road does climb away from the sea and over the hills, I’m surprised every time that the temperature increases dramatically, sometimes as much as 15 degrees. I finally conclude that it’s a function of the very cold body of water that generates cold wind, but when we climb the mountains, we find rising instead of falling temperatures because the road is sheltered by the mountain. This happens again and again as we ride eastward.

At Cap Madeleine, where we ride off the highway to a little lighthouse park, things change dramatically. The temperature has dropped to 56F (13C) on my fairing thermometer and the wind whipping around the complex makes it feel much colder. Fog shrouds the seascape but I manage to get a few pictures. For the first time this trip, Kitty decides to put on her “new” electric suit contributed by Ray Smith. After connecting it and making sure it is working, we set out.

In about five minutes, I ask her, “How’s that electric suit working for you?”

“I had to turn it way down,” she says. I’m glad we have it. Thanks, Ray.

About this same time, the road makes a little run for the mountains and before we can even adjust, the temperature skyrockets to 75F (24C). We are tempted to stop and take off layers, but I look at the GPS and see that in about 8 clicks (5 miles) we’ll be once again riding along the shoreline, and if history repeats itself, we’ll be glad we have these layers.

History does repeat itself, and soon we are back into electric-suit temperatures. Fog sets in again and this time it is not the on-again-off-again variety we’ve seen earlier in the trip and today. This time it’s for real, and a light mist covers the windshield as we enter Parc Forillon. The fog is relentless and increasingly intense, and we can catch only very occasional glimpses of the shore that lies only several hundred yards off to our left.

This isn’t exactly what I had in mind in coming here, and I’m sure we are missing some of the best scenery of the trip, but Slow-Down Guy takes it as it comes. We’d planned to spend the afternoon in Parc Forillon, maybe stay in Gaspé or Percé, maybe book one of the many whale-watching cruises available at any of these locations. But with the steady fog and light mist, we decide to simply ride out the afternoon until we arrive in Percé where I’d booked Hotel la Normandie this morning. The last 60 km, 35 miles or so, have been just a little tense because of the winding, hilly road with less that great road surfaces and the intense fog. Thankfully the road isn’t wet for the most part, and we are welcomed in the mist and the cold and the fog by the inviting environs of the Hotel la Normandie at around 4:00 PM.

I call les Bateliers de Percé, one of the many cruises available here, fully expecting them to be closed or certainly not running cruises. Much to my surprise, a very pleasant fellow named Julian answers the phone and says in English that they will have one whale watching cruise tomorrow. So I walk to their pavilion about a half kilometer up the street and book the tickets. I want to practice my French but he insists on speaking English. He insists that tomorrow will be nice and the cruise will run at 11:00 AM as scheduled, or if not, our money will be refunded. We shall see about all that.

Now here we sit in the coin-operated laundry at an adjacent hotel doing laundry for the first time this trip. Kitty is reading and I’m writing, a familiar scenario on our trips and especially while doing laundry.

Today we have ridden a fog-intensified 315 km (196 miles) for a total of 2201 km (1,368 miles). Tomorrow we hope to see les baleines on our little cruise, and I think we’ll probably stay at the same hotel tomorrow night since Slow-Down Guy packed about 6 days of riding into 14 days. For some reason the pleasant (English-speaking) hotel clerk upgraded our room at no charge to one facing the sea. We can hear the sea crashing against the seawall that has been build all along Percé, and off the shore lies the spectacular Rocher Percé, (literally, “pierced rock”), one of the major landmarks of this area… except that all we see is a blank wall of gray fog that begins a hundred yards from the hotel room.

Tomorrow will reveal much more about our plans than we know today. See you then.

GPS Track Log, Day 6 (Yellow)