Thursday 20 August 2015--Coffee and muffin at Tim Horton's on the
commercial strip outside town, then north on Route 133, which hugs the east
bank of the Richelieu. It's a pretty drive, passing through a handful of riverside
villages. The river runs almost due north, draining Lake Champlain into the St
Lawrence River. From Beloeil to Sorel, a stretch of about 35 miles, there is no
bridge, but three cable ferries make the crossing at intervals.
The Richelieu was a vital corridor in colonial days, and 19th-century canals
improved transportation. The 7.5-mile Chambly Canal bypasses rapids
between St-Jean-sur-Richelieu and Chambly, and the 25-mile Champlain
Canal links Lake Champlain to the Hudson River, allowing passage to New
York, and the Erie Canal, as well. This morning I stop at St-Ours to view the
single lock there, the last step down on the way to the St Lawrence.
A short way downstream, I take the cable ferry from St-Ours to St-Roch, just
to do it. Backtrack to the ferry from St-Antoine to St-Denis, and resume my
trip up the east side of the river. It's only on the second pass by L'Eau Pen Bar
in St-Ours that I get the joke.
The river drive ends at Sorel (officially Sorel-Tracy, after amalgamation with
the neighboring town). It might be worth a stop to look around, being the fourth
oldest city in the province, but I head straight to the terminal for the ferry across
the St Lawrence. The parts of town I do see are not particularly charming.
There is a rather long queue at the terminal, but it moves fairly quickly, as three
ferries are providing nearly continuous service. The landing on the other side is
at the village of Saint-Ignace-de-Loyola, which is not actually on the north
shore of the river, but on Île Saint-Ignace. This is one of the Sorel Islands,
which form a delta where the St Lawrence broadens out into Lac St-Pierre.
Route 158 crosses the fields and meadows of two more islands to Berthierville,
on the north shore proper, and there I turn northeast on route 138, the old
Chemin du Roy, the King's Road, headed for Quebec City. I'm thinking I will
have to cut over to route 40, the main highway, at some point to make time, but
the older road is more open than expected. I drive 100 to 110 kilometers per
hour on the long 90 kph stretches, with impatient locals tight on my tail. Towns
like Louiseville, La Pérade, and Portneuf don't take much time to pass through,
and even Trois-Rivières, the one real city along the way, isn't that bad. It's a nice
drive, with plenty of lovely views over the great river.
At L'Ancienne-Lorette, hometown of Patrice Bergeron, I jump on the highway
at last to skirt Quebec City. The 40 descends to the river just a mile from the
bridge to L'Île d'Orléans. I cross the bridge, turn left at the island's only traffic
light, and drive ten miles to the village of Sainte-Famille. Arrive at 6:30. My
B&B is next door to Pub Le Mitan, the island's one brewpub. How about that.
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