"Un voyage à vélo" by Justine Verrault Fortin

(Narration) Justine:

I’ve always thought that sometimes we go way too far to do things we could just as easily do close to home. I left Montreal on July 18th, 2015, on my bike. I had three days off between two meetings. Three days where I didn’t really have the time or money to head out to Gaspésie, but I wanted to be by the water, I wanted to see the horizon. That’s what I missed most when I was in Montreal—the horizon.

That bike I used was actually a gift. An old thing, rescued from a barn. I decided one morning to head out on a little bike-camping trip. I just wanted to feel free, to carry everything I needed with me to sleep wherever I wanted: a small tent, a sleeping mat, a sleeping bag, and a few clothes.

I had three full days ahead of me. So I took my bike and set off, no rush. It was 11 a.m. when I left. I wasn’t in great shape, honestly. But I set off anyway at 11, headed down to the Old Port. The Old Port is so pretty in the morning—there aren’t as many tourists. The weather was gorgeous, full sun, just a perfect day. Then I told myself: my goal is to follow the river westward.

I’m originally from Gaspésie. I couldn’t go back there at the time, but I missed the water. That’s when I realized there’s water everywhere around here too. Around Montreal, you don’t need to ride 800 km to find the river.

So the easiest route once I got to the Old Port was to keep going west along the Lachine Canal. I had done that route many times—it’s a beautiful bike path. So after the canal, I kept going west, all along the western tip of the island of Montreal. You often get views of the water, and there are lots of little parks. I remember realizing that the water I was riding beside would eventually reach Gaspésie—and I thought that was really beautiful.

After the west end of the island, you get to Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue. There’s this spiral-shaped bridge structure there that cyclists can use to cross to the other side. It’s super unique—it really stuck with me. I stopped at the top, took a bunch of photos, the view was incredible. It’s the kind of place that makes you realize Montreal is an island, and that water plays such a big role in this region. We kind of forget that in Montreal—we forget the water’s there, surrounding us.

Then there’s a little stretch on Île-Perrot where there’s not much of a bike path—you just ride along the boulevard and hope for the best. But after that… that’s when the real trip began.

I arrived in Pointe-des-Cascades. I rode around the little village and found it totally charming. Suddenly, it felt like the countryside—the vibe was completely different from the city. Small businesses, parks with big anchors... It felt so maritime. That’s where I stumbled upon the canal.

I saw signs for a bike path and remember seeing “Coteau-du-Lac”—it was about 20 kilometers away. I looked at the sun and felt so proud—I still had so much energy—so I thought, “Okay, let’s follow this bike path and head to Coteau-du-Lac.”

That’s when I discovered the Soulanges Canal. It’s an absolutely stunning bike path, with trees all around—a canopy of green. The sun was setting and lighting up the canal. The light was unreal—indescribable. I could’ve traveled the whole world trying to find a place like that. That’s when I decided that this would be my big life move—I was going to live here.

I kept riding toward Coteau-du-Lac. I passed by the Petit Pouvoir—this little castle-looking thing in the middle of nowhere, with super unusual architecture. I couldn’t believe it was so close to where I lived and I’d never even heard of it. I had no idea what it was. It felt like I’d landed in another world—I was totally disoriented, in a good way.

Eventually, I stopped in Coteau-du-Lac. It was dark, and I had no place to camp. I didn’t know the area and my phone battery was almost dead. I wandered around the village and tried to find a restaurant. None were open—it was late. Finally, I came across a woman who pointed me to a house in the middle of the village. No sign or anything! She encouraged me to check it out, and sure enough—it was a really sweet little bistro.

I sat down and grabbed something to eat. I was the only one there. Eventually, two guys came in, and we started chatting. We had a great time. One of them invited me to pitch my tent at his place. He lived right by the water—it was perfect, under a huge weeping willow. I couldn’t have asked for better.

The next day, I left for Oka. I camped there and took it a bit easier that day. Then I came back the following day, but from the north—I didn’t want to retrace my steps. But Coteau-du-Lac stayed in my head. It wasn’t long before I reached out to one of the two guys I’d met—the one who let me camp at his place.

Now it’s 2019, and this summer will mark three years since I moved to Coteau-du-Lac. I walk along the Soulanges Canal, I ride my bike along the Soulanges Canal… I honestly think that bike trip was the best thing that ever happened to me.