About 3 Kilometers from home after a long MTB ride.
ROAD TRIPPIN'
This is the longest road trip of my life. I’ve literally been bounced around Canada for the past two months and it’s not over yet. The only respite has been the odd break of a few two-day stints back in The Glen. The Glen, you may ask, is this a person or a place? To locals, it’s a little mountain paradise they’d rather remain a secret than be spoken about in public and written about on the internet. For everyone else, it is one of the most difficult places on earth to find. Which is precisely why I love it so much.
Sorry, neighbors, for this post and all of the mentions on national and international TV of our remote and unique home.
These trips home have been nothing short of life savers. After spending the bulk of my time in cities (Montreal, Toronto and Ottawa seem to be my hot-spots) it’s a huge breath of fresh air to absorb the silence and the peace of home sweet home. Yes, it’s worth the 2 hour drive from Montreal (sans Montreal traffic if I’m lucky) along the highway that turns to a small highway, which turns into a small winding mountain road, to a dirt road and finally, a steep, private dirt packed climb up the valley wall to our house.
Since the Olympics, home has felt more like a retreat than a home. I feel grateful for each breath I take within the maple forest surrounding our little chalet. The runs along the Missisquoi River have brought me down to earth.
Last week, I was treated to a three-day stay. I woke on day one to glorious blue skies and just a hint of wind. Out came the mountain bike and off I was to explore the region. I pride myself in knowing all paved roads (and most dirt) within a 100 km radius of Glen Sutton.
This boasting was put to shame when I discovered, by accident, a slew of dirt roads to the east. I kept riding and riding on the winding roads on and around Lac MemphriMagog, wondering where each new branch in this tree of roads would take me. I screeched to a halt on a steep downhill due to the barrier across the road. I realized why when looking to my right, I saw a cement pylon with ‘Canada’ on one side and ‘USA’ on the other. It’s a bizarre thing to reach the border in such a remote area with no customs building. Homeland security at its best.
I crawled home after over three hours of exploration, completely spent and long out of food and water. Exhaustion from exercise is something I will never tire from. It felt good to be fatigued and it didn’t hurt that it was almost 20c. A most satisfying Spring day.
It also made sitting in front of the fire the following day – all day long – while watching over a foot of snow fall out the window even more satisfying.
A foot of snow in a day!
More than anything, I’m just so appreciative of the beautiful places I know and feel a connection to. I have a difficult time in cities and it is a gift to experience this retreat I call home.
The contrast of an hour and a half run along the dirt road paralleling the Missisquoi River in our valley to yesterday’s run along the lakeshore in Toronto emphasized this even more. It’s an out and back that takes me to the USA border. On a busy day, I might see 2 cars. Most days it’s just me and the odd wild turkey or domestic cow doing our respective thing.
Whenever I do this run, the same Kingfisher swoops down in the same place, year after year; the same Osprey screeches from its perch; the same Merganser ducks take flight as I make my slow-paced jogging way. In Toronto, the same traffic flows along the multi-use path; the same planes land on Toronto Island; the same boats motor their way in the massive Lake Ontario.
Yet, I can’t feel but happy for all the city dwellers who make their way out each morning, staying in shape, using this path and creating a space of what must be good energy in within the bustle of the city.
Personally, I’ll take Kingfishers over incessant traffic, any day. Even if this means a forty kilometer trip to get a quart of milk.
I cannot wait to return home again. Hopefully soon.
