August 13, 2010
It's been my good fortune to house-sit for two weeks in Montreal in a great neighborhood and in the most fabulous house. It was built as a Baptist Church 125 years ago, then was purchased by an Orthodox Jewish congregation, then sold to the present owner 30 years ago. The Ten Commandments are above the front door as you enter the house.
But...I digress. This is about the bike paths of Montreal. I've read that Montreal has the best network of bicycle paths in North America. As of this year there are close to 700 kilometers, with more being cut out yearly. It's a bicycler's dream.
I lived in Montreal for the first two weeks of August, just as I did last year. This year I had very definite destinations in mind. Let me tell you about three of them.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
I left the house early, rode to the Metro and put my bike on it and rode to the furthest destination possible--Honore
Beaugrand. From there I rode east to the St. Lawrence River where I met a ferry that would bring me to Boucherville Island. Boucherville Island is really an archipeligo consisting of ten islands, and on summer weekends it's posisble to access the island via bicicyle ferry. There had to be 50 or more of us early on this beautiful Sunday morning.
Boucherville is a biker's dream. The entire archipeligo is accessible via well maintained light gravelbike paths with bridges and one ferry connecting the smaller island. An entire circumfrence is 15 km, but any zigzag on the island will easily bring that tally higher.
And zigzag I did. Past cornfields and fresh water marshes. Pa
st astounding views of the the South Shore of Montreal. Past people sunbathing and picnicers enjoying a quiet meal on an isolated stretch of beach. Past vistas of Montreal in the far distance. Past families enjoying a day away from the city. Past scores of others bikers, as well as runners and walkers. Past an 18 hole golf course. Past a vast picnic area where white-bread native Montrealers were sharing space with newly arrived Chinese and Islamic immigrants, whose women were dressed in multicolored birkas. A true hodge-podge of the divesity that makes up the wondrous city of Montreal. Past an Indian interpretive center where recent archeological work has unearthed evidence of First People's presence for more than a 1,000 years. I ferried back to the island and slowly wend my way through neigborhoods I'd never seen before until I reached home with 68 km. under my belt. A great day!
Monday, August 9, 2010
For years I've seen narrow strip of land below the Champlain Bridge as I'm crossing off the island. The track runs north-south and for all those years I've almost always seen lone bikers on it. Today I'd find out what this was all about.
I left the house, made my way to the
Jacques Cartier Bridge and rode half across it, dropping off it onto Ile St. Helene. From there I bike past the site of Expo '67 and the now iconic Biosphere still standing. At the southern end of the island I pick up the path. It's arrow-straight. My initial goal was the service bridge connecting the two sides, but it's a seeringly hot day, it's relatively cool by the water, and I've got lots of energy. I pull out my map and ask a couple of bikers picnining near the bridge how far it is to Sainte Catherine, a small town on the South Shore. They tell me 10 
km., 20 return. I can do that. So I take off. The bike bath is not much more that a wide berm created 50 years ago when the St. Lawrence Seaway was dug out. I'm assuming this causeway is the result of dredging the canal deeper. Dig out the canal, dump it next door and, bam!, we've got a great bike path. (For years I'd assumed it was built with dug up dirt and residue when the Montreal Metro went in in the 1960's.) Today, with the help of markers, I realize it was done in 1959 as part of the Seaway project.At one point there is a memorial to a young man who was
last seen at that exact spot. Lost September, 1978.
Murdered and dumped into the river? A suicide? An accident? His family/friends caution new riders: "Soyez Prudent!" Be careful!
After about an hour I get to St. Catherine, but where the berm
ends, a fabulous park begins. I keep biking south, all the time paralleling the St. Lawrence, until I butt up against the Lachine Rapids. This is the 2nd best viewing point I've ever had to view them. And on this weekday, it's a real pleasure to have the viewing area almost to myself. I do have a few questions, though. I see houses on a nearby island, right near the rapids. Who lives there and why? There are a few other bikers, but on this side of the Montreal, off the main island, I'm in no-English-land. I never do find out.
I find my way to the village of St. Catherine, buy lunch at a supermarket. My lips are zip-shut. I don't speak any French, and when I do, Spanish comes out. Fortunately, a sandwhich is a sandwhich everywhere in the world. It's only when I go into the supermarket do I realize just how hot it is outside. I'll lunch indoors today.
My mid-afternoon I retrace my steps, cross the service bridge, slip back into Montreal after a zig-zag through Nun's Island. By now I'm slogging home, and when I finally do get back to the synagogue, as it's fondly known, I've clocked 55 km on my bike. Another great day!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
It's my last day in the city and I do not want to do to this bike ride. I lay in bed saying, "Yes, you've got to this because it's the only day left this summer to do it," and "No, it's another 40 miles and your legs and butt hurt and it's another hot, humid day."
But I rarely give in to that type of thinking, so I get out of bed, get dressed and head off. My goal in the Lachine Canal bike path all the way to Lachine, then a one-hour ferry ride across Lac St. Louis to Chateguay and a three hour tour of that area.
It's a race against time as I've got to be at the port by 11:00 am.
In 2009, Time magazine labelled the Lachine Canal the 3rd best urban bike trail in the world. It starts in the Old Port of Montreal and runs to Lachine
, 15 km due west. The Canal was dug out in 1825 and provided a bypass around the very dangerous rapids in the river--a much safer way for boats to get to Montreal.
For well over a centurty factories and warehouse lined the canal. But the Seaway, 1959, put an end to the canal and by 1970 it was shut down. The factories were abandoned, the neighborhoods adjoining the canal were derelict and the canal....well...it became a repository for all sorts of nasty things--old cars, dead bodies, garbage.
By the mid-1990's a m
ajor urban renewal project started. The canal was cleaned up, and the locks were refurbished. Small boats could now make their way from the St. Lawrence to the Lac Louis to the west. Real estate developers bought up the facories and warehouses and converted them to tony residences that now cost in the half millions of dollars. The city put in a top-notch bike bath from center- city to Lachine, then cut another trail from Lachine back to the city along the shores of the St. Lawrence.
Even early in the morning the bike path was busy. I managed to get to Lachine with time to spare, justified a 2nd breakfast of two muffins and a Diet Coke, and board the bike ferry at 11:15.
The ride across the lake is fun. It's called a lake, but it's really a wide, tranquil part of the river. The calm before the storm of the Rapids a bit further downstream. Chateguay is a bit of disappointment. It's just a small town, not well off--a poor cousin to its more glamourous nieghbor a boat ride away. But it's a good time to slow down, eat lunch by a pond, watch a wedding unfold, ride past late summer meadows filled with goldenrod and grasses.
After about an hour I get to St. Catherine, but where the berm
ends, a fabulous park begins. I keep biking south, all the time paralleling the St. Lawrence, until I butt up against the Lachine Rapids. This is the 2nd best viewing point I've ever had to view them. And on this weekday, it's a real pleasure to have the viewing area almost to myself. I do have a few questions, though. I see houses on a nearby island, right near the rapids. Who lives there and why? There are a few other bikers, but on this side of the Montreal, off the main island, I'm in no-English-land. I never do find out.I find my way to the village of St. Catherine, buy lunch at a supermarket. My lips are zip-shut. I don't speak any French, and when I do, Spanish comes out. Fortunately, a sandwhich is a sandwhich everywhere in the world. It's only when I go into the supermarket do I realize just how hot it is outside. I'll lunch indoors today.
My mid-afternoon I retrace my steps, cross the service bridge, slip back into Montreal after a zig-zag through Nun's Island. By now I'm slogging home, and when I finally do get back to the synagogue, as it's fondly known, I've clocked 55 km on my bike. Another great day!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
It's my last day in the city and I do not want to do to this bike ride. I lay in bed saying, "Yes, you've got to this because it's the only day left this summer to do it," and "No, it's another 40 miles and your legs and butt hurt and it's another hot, humid day."
But I rarely give in to that type of thinking, so I get out of bed, get dressed and head off. My goal in the Lachine Canal bike path all the way to Lachine, then a one-hour ferry ride across Lac St. Louis to Chateguay and a three hour tour of that area.
It's a race against time as I've got to be at the port by 11:00 am.
In 2009, Time magazine labelled the Lachine Canal the 3rd best urban bike trail in the world. It starts in the Old Port of Montreal and runs to Lachine
, 15 km due west. The Canal was dug out in 1825 and provided a bypass around the very dangerous rapids in the river--a much safer way for boats to get to Montreal.For well over a centurty factories and warehouse lined the canal. But the Seaway, 1959, put an end to the canal and by 1970 it was shut down. The factories were abandoned, the neighborhoods adjoining the canal were derelict and the canal....well...it became a repository for all sorts of nasty things--old cars, dead bodies, garbage.
By the mid-1990's a m
ajor urban renewal project started. The canal was cleaned up, and the locks were refurbished. Small boats could now make their way from the St. Lawrence to the Lac Louis to the west. Real estate developers bought up the facories and warehouses and converted them to tony residences that now cost in the half millions of dollars. The city put in a top-notch bike bath from center- city to Lachine, then cut another trail from Lachine back to the city along the shores of the St. Lawrence.Even early in the morning the bike path was busy. I managed to get to Lachine with time to spare, justified a 2nd breakfast of two muffins and a Diet Coke, and board the bike ferry at 11:15.
The ride across the lake is fun. It's called a lake, but it's really a wide, tranquil part of the river. The calm before the storm of the Rapids a bit further downstream. Chateguay is a bit of disappointment. It's just a small town, not well off--a poor cousin to its more glamourous nieghbor a boat ride away. But it's a good time to slow down, eat lunch by a pond, watch a wedding unfold, ride past late summer meadows filled with goldenrod and grasses.
By 3:00 I'm back on the ferry and energized for the finale--a 
much longer ride along the St. Lawrence. I've done this before and remember it fondly. I'm not disappointed today. I ride under the Mercier Bridge, past sun bathers sitting in beach chairs, their feet dangling in quiet parts of the river, past picnicers enjoying a warm, late summer's afternoon. I'm psyched, though, because I remember the last time I'd done this I'd seen surfers on the river. Surfers! I parked my bike, settled in and and was fortunate to actually see a young man hold a wave for over a minute.
much longer ride along the St. Lawrence. I've done this before and remember it fondly. I'm not disappointed today. I ride under the Mercier Bridge, past sun bathers sitting in beach chairs, their feet dangling in quiet parts of the river, past picnicers enjoying a warm, late summer's afternoon. I'm psyched, though, because I remember the last time I'd done this I'd seen surfers on the river. Surfers! I parked my bike, settled in and and was fortunate to actually see a young man hold a wave for over a minute.In the end, I clocked up a 65 km ride for my final day in the city. All total, I'd ridden 301 kilometers, which means that 450 km. of bike paths are still waiting for next year. It had been a great series of rides--past surfers, over bridges and on boats that connect the island of Montreal with the the mainland. I'd found a Vietnamese Buddhist temple tucked away in a quiet residencial neighborhood and I'd come across a Swing and Jive dance held in one of the parks hugging the St.Lawrence. I'd see the Lachine Rapids from both sides of the river and spent a hot, humid afternoon sweating my way up the highway climbing Mount Royal.
I'm convinced that the only way to really see a city is on foot or on bike. I'd certainly done the latter!
I'm already looking forward to 2011!
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