Rivière-du-Loup, QC: Rain and Rest
Our stretch of dry weather has ended. We woke up to drizzle and pedaled nearly 50 kilometers before lunch. We came upon this wonderful rest stop at just the right time. Before we even finished eating, it began to rain steadily. We stayed dry and managed wait it out a couple of hours doing crossword puzzles before going the final distance to our campground.
On our way to this spot we passed an old man cycling on an equally old bike, a creaky one speed with a rusted basket hanging from the handlebars. He was moving slow enough for us to overtake him on the flats, and we caught up with him just at the base of a hill. We gave him a friendly "Bon Jour" as we went by, assuming he was close to his destination and it would be the last we would see of him.
So it was to our surprise that he wheeled up next to our gazebo just as the heavens let loose. He said a few sentences in French, and we responded in our standard "parlez vous Anglais?" He just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, and that was the end of that conversation. A few minutes later he pulls out a cell phone, makes a call, hangs up, and then goes over to to the other covered gazebo in the park. Fifteen minutes later up pulls a nice sedan, and the bicycle man and the woman driving the car load the bicycle in the trunk, and they take off on the rain-slicked road.
It was such an ironic scene. Here I was making up a story in mind of this old man that was a link to the rural Quebec past, maybe an old dairy farmer that milked cows by hand his whole life, living a simple country life without the need of modern distractions. And all he was probably doing was just getting some exercise and didn't like to get wet and had his wife get him so he could go home and watch the hockey game on cable.
On our way to this spot we passed an old man cycling on an equally old bike, a creaky one speed with a rusted basket hanging from the handlebars. He was moving slow enough for us to overtake him on the flats, and we caught up with him just at the base of a hill. We gave him a friendly "Bon Jour" as we went by, assuming he was close to his destination and it would be the last we would see of him.
So it was to our surprise that he wheeled up next to our gazebo just as the heavens let loose. He said a few sentences in French, and we responded in our standard "parlez vous Anglais?" He just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, and that was the end of that conversation. A few minutes later he pulls out a cell phone, makes a call, hangs up, and then goes over to to the other covered gazebo in the park. Fifteen minutes later up pulls a nice sedan, and the bicycle man and the woman driving the car load the bicycle in the trunk, and they take off on the rain-slicked road.
It was such an ironic scene. Here I was making up a story in mind of this old man that was a link to the rural Quebec past, maybe an old dairy farmer that milked cows by hand his whole life, living a simple country life without the need of modern distractions. And all he was probably doing was just getting some exercise and didn't like to get wet and had his wife get him so he could go home and watch the hockey game on cable.
1 comments:
That's what we humans do, make up stories. Narrative is one of our most prominent features.
We're enjoying our summer with Nancy. She knows a lot about so much. And we've got lots of visitors who are coming to see us. Life is good.
But the big news is we put an offer in on the Grenade building, today. It would be so nice to work in June Lake. And our website should be published by end of next week!
alice
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