Put-in minus 3 days: Friday, July 10, 2026: It became evident in the morning hours that there would be no pining goodbyes for me from my wife. So, with little fanfare, I departed South Bristol for points north in the vicinity of 1pm. First to Damariscotta for block ice and gas, and then, by 2pm, I was truly off. I followed the convenient straight line north that connects mid-coast Maine to Quebec City and further, to Lac St Jean. With no drama or incident worth retelling, I managed to get to a motel at the southern end of Lac St Jean by about 9:30pm. I girded myself with a gas station sandwich and salad, a little rye, and off to bed.
Put-in minus 2 days: On the road again at 8am with Esso coffee, I was early enough to make good time around the Lake and hook up with 167 north. I was in Chibougamau by noon, stopped at the Maxi for a dozen eggs and beef jerky; gassed up; and had a killer poutine breakfast at Raymonde's. The Route du Norde was deserted on this particular Saturday afternoon - I scarcely saw another vehicle for the 3.5 hour trip to our take-out. The gravel was in great shape and sustaining ~50mph was no problem. I got to the take-out at the reservoir about 4:30pm, and realizing Ben would be more than awhile, I settled in. It was hot, not a shady tree to be seen, so I had to keep moving my chair to find the shadiest side of the Subaru. I finished a LaCarre novel, threw a few casts into the lake, and held off on pouring a drink until 7:30! I had a message from Ben on the inreach from his position on the QC/ON border sometime earlier that morning, but it was unclear if he was moving on from there or just stopping there. I set up my tent, sorted some odds and ends of gear, started a new book, and had a few more sips of rye. Not wanting to dip into the trip food supplies, I went without supper, and settled for a cigar and some more rye. I'm sure I fell asleep in my chair, was probably roused by a loon, and put myself to bed. I remember waking in my tent to headlights and tires on gravel - the sound of a voice haranguing me... was that a lion I saw...? Rip VanWinkle..? Had ICE come to the Rupert Reservoir..? What fresh hell was this...?
Put-in minus 2 days: On the road again at 8am with Esso coffee, I was early enough to make good time around the Lake and hook up with 167 north. I was in Chibougamau by noon, stopped at the Maxi for a dozen eggs and beef jerky; gassed up; and had a killer poutine breakfast at Raymonde's. The Route du Norde was deserted on this particular Saturday afternoon - I scarcely saw another vehicle for the 3.5 hour trip to our take-out. The gravel was in great shape and sustaining ~50mph was no problem. I got to the take-out at the reservoir about 4:30pm, and realizing Ben would be more than awhile, I settled in. It was hot, not a shady tree to be seen, so I had to keep moving my chair to find the shadiest side of the Subaru. I finished a LaCarre novel, threw a few casts into the lake, and held off on pouring a drink until 7:30! I had a message from Ben on the inreach from his position on the QC/ON border sometime earlier that morning, but it was unclear if he was moving on from there or just stopping there. I set up my tent, sorted some odds and ends of gear, started a new book, and had a few more sips of rye. Not wanting to dip into the trip food supplies, I went without supper, and settled for a cigar and some more rye. I'm sure I fell asleep in my chair, was probably roused by a loon, and put myself to bed. I remember waking in my tent to headlights and tires on gravel - the sound of a voice haranguing me... was that a lion I saw...? Rip VanWinkle..? Had ICE come to the Rupert Reservoir..? What fresh hell was this...?
