Saint-Jovite to Val-David

Breakfasts were just getting better and better.

On Day 1 of our Petit Train du Nord trek, we started at a small motel just outside of Saint-Jérôme, and DW and I hadn't packed anything to eat. We expected to drive to the parking lot by the station, where the shuttle would take us and our bikes, and find a place to grab a bite.

Our friends, Wendy and Peter, brought fruit and homemade muffins, and I gratefully accepted a banana before we drove into town. When we arrived at the shuttle, it took so long to sort out paying for the two days of parking (Saturday and Sunday are free, and one of the machines wasn't working) and getting our bikes and gear on the trailer that we didn't have time to find a place to eat, so I also gracefully accepted a muffin.

We didn't eat again until we arrived at the starting point for the trail, when DW ran into the IGA to get some snacks.

On our second morning, as I wrote yesterday, we had a great meal at the Auberge Chez Ignace, in Nomanigue. On Day 3, breakfast was even better.

Roxanne and Patrick, at Le Pimbina B&B, started us off with homemade yogurt with rhubarb compote. Now, I'm neither a fan of yogurt nor of rhubarb, but to be polite I decided I'd take a few mouthfuls, and leave the rest.

I ate the whole thing.

The yogurt wasn't sour, as I expected, and the rhubarb gave it a sweet tartness that just made me want to eat more. So, I guess I should say that I don't like store-bought yogurt, and our hosts did something to the rhubarb—it was almost like a syrup, with no chunks—that made it magical.

For the main course, we were offered either a breakfast sandwich or French toast, served with fresh fruit. DW and Peter chose the French toast, while Wendy and I had the breakfast sandwich.

The French toast was encrusted with panko which gave it a great texture. DW let me have a bite and it was wonderful. My breakfast sandwich was served on a fresh English muffin (either they made it themselves or got it fresh from a bakery) with egg, cheese, a sausage patty, tomato, and arugula.

Perfect.

It was a cool morning but instead of the earlier-forecast periods of rain, we just had a light overcast sky that promised some sunshine to break through. It was going to be a good day for cycling.

Day 3: 42.18 kms.

We cycled along the main road toward Saint-Jovite until we met up with the old rail trail, where there was a comfort station and a place to tune up your bike and pump up your tires. DW needed a bit more air but we discovered that the nozzle for the pump was broken, so we had to move on.

Fortunately, about 13 kilometres down the trail, we came to another rest stop where the pump worked.

From that point, there was about a 20-km climb through forested hills that was slow going. But I kept telling myself that if a train could do it, so could I. When training for this trip, I climbed steeper inclines while carrying weight in my panniers and packs and had no trouble.

But I didn't climb hills for a steady 20K. Toward the end, I could feel it in my legs but I was never exhausted. I was more worried about my butt in my seat for the third straight day.

Once we reached Mont-Blanc, where we stopped for a short rest, the trail was mostly downhill, where I reached some of my top speeds—mass and gravity, my friends. Mass and gravity.

At one point, DW called out for us to stop because she realized that her phone was no longer attached to her bike. She had become used to hearing it announce her stats every five kilometres, and she realized it was missing when she didn't hear anything for a while.

Luckily, DW had set up her Cyclemeter app so that when she started a ride, I received an e-mail message that contained a link that showed me where her phone was. When I looked at the map, it showed that her phone had moved somewhere off the path, near a paving company, about 4.7 kms back.

DW and Peter cycled back while Wendy and I waited with DW's panniers, along the side of the path that was near the Trans-Canada Highway. I decided to call DW's phone, and a woman answered the phone.

Apparently, a truck driver for the paving company spotted the phone on the path where it intersected a road to the company. He picked it up and turned it in to their office, where the woman was waiting.

It took about a half hour for DW and Peter to return, but at least DW had her phone. It just shows there are good people out there, who don't know you but have your back.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and we rolled into Val-David around 1:00. Our inn, Hébergement Les Passionnés, wouldn't let us check in until 2:30, so we cycled a bit further, toward the centre of the village, and found the Le Général Café, where we could sit at a picnic table a few steps from our bikes and have a tasty meal and pint.

We were starving.

When we were able to check in, there were no hosts. We received an e-mail that gave us our room numbers and codes to access the bike lock-up, the back entrance to the inn, and our rooms. We were pretty much left to our own devices, though our rooms were spacious and had a great shower.

DW wanted to explore the village but I was a bit tired and needed a nap. Wendy and Peter also wanted some down time, so DW checked out what was available in the way of restaurants, for dinner.

Around 5:00, the four of us explored the village and DW showed us the places she discovered, and I was able to capture some B-roll of the town, to use in an upcoming YouTube video. In the end, we walked back toward our inn and ate at a pub that was just two doors down, MacTaverne Pub.

We had met the owner as we headed to the village, just as the pub was opening at 5:00. He was doing some landscaping, improving the steps up to the doors. He was an Anglophone who had moved to Val-David only a year or so ago, when he opened this English-style pub.

We had told him, after checking the posted menu, that we were going to wander and possibly be back. After all, it had only been a few hours since we had lunch, so we weren't particularly hungry at 5.

But after seeing other restaurants, we decided to return about a half-hour later. I ordered a Scotch egg and DW ordered their Piri-Piri chicken, which we shared. Both were good.

We returned to the inn and Wendy and Peter shared the last of the port wine before we said goodnight. This was our final night before returning to Saint-Jérôme and we wanted to be well-rested.

Tomorrow, I'll share the final leg of our ride. Stay tuned.