Moose hunting.

Another Saturday was spent under the sun in spandex. Yann and I gave Route Verte #5 a try; we’re going through all the route numbers, almost in order.

#5 took us through a forest of refineries to the northernmost (or easternmost if you have that much faith in Montréal’s cartographers) tip of the island. Just before we exited the island of Montréal, we happened upon a small park inhabited by anthropomorphic animals in baseball shirts standing on stumps.

Jean-Robert Drouillard sculptures.
Feeling out of place.

I’ve already posted this picture on Instagram: apologies for not giving you the variety you strive for when you come here.

In the Montréal area, you don’t have to visit a park to see random sculptures, they’re everywhere:

fig 1 …and 2.

20180728_141838 (800x800)

Here are the sailfish bros, with their very prominent anal fin, guarding somebody’s driveway. The alternating red and white flowers behind bro #2 appear to say, “Welcome, but not really.”

I like to imagine the conversation that might have taken place before the purchase of these driveway ornaments:

“I think the entrance to my driveway is lacking something.”

“Lions?”

“Fuck lions! I hate cats! Got anything in fish?”

“We recently got these hand-painted concrete sailfish in from Italy.”

“I love them.”

This was found in Laval, where the property bylaws appear to be much more relaxed than anywhere else. There appear to be a good number of lawn ornament enthusiasts in Montréal and surrounding areas.

Fig 3.

My Little Pony of Laval.

If you’re not new to this blog, you’ll have already been familiarized with this pony; after all, this is her third appearance. Not only do I crosspost, but also I repost.

If you are new, consider this my formal declaration of being somewhat of a lawn ornament fanatic. Yup. Since I don’t have a lawn of my own, I get high off other people’s lawns.

Fig 4.

Gardener/Football Player.
For your favourite gardener/football player.

In the Parc Ex (short for Parc Extreme, probably) neighbourhood of Montréal, you’ll find a garden with a perfect balance of masculinity and feminity. What better way to display your flowers than in car tires and a giant football vessel?

Fig 5. and 6.

Moose x2.
A pair of moose.

When Yann and I first met My Little Pony of Laval aka Figure 3, I asked him whether he had ever seen the moose sculptures by the Olympic Stadium. Non!

How had he not yet seen Montréal’s grandest lawn ornaments, in the 29 years he’s been alive? Had Yann been ambitious enough to create a “30 before 30” list, a visit to the moose would’ve been on there.

We rode into the moose’s neck of the woods after work. I couldn’t remember their exact location, but Yann easily spotted them grazing in the front lawn of an otherwise ordinary-looking house. On the balcony of this house was an older woman hanging out minding her own business, with a dog who desperately wanted our business.

Standing in between the two life-sized moose sculptures, Yann was compelled to request verbal permission; he asked the lady if we could photograph her moose. I think if he had simply asked her if we could take a picture, she would know what he was referring to.

Interestingly enough, she appeared to be a bit insecure about the moose and pointed out that they were her husband’s idea. I take it she hasn’t met the owner of the swordfish driveway.

Returning to the subject of cycling: Saturday’s ride totalled 104km, making it my 9th century ride of the year.

While patting myself on the back, I’m keeping track of >200 strangers’ double, triple, and quadruple century rides. I am “dot chasing” the participants of this year’s Transcontinental Race. I find this event more exciting to follow than Le Tour de France as it is an entirely self-supported race. From the Transcontinental Race website: “Outside support is prohibited, riders must only use what they can carry with them or what they can find at commercially available outlets.”

Last year’s winner did 3800km in under 9 days: an average of 422km/day. Even if the winner didn’t sleep a wink, he would have still been going at a speed of 17.5km/h.

I don’t dream of being fast at cycling as much as I dream of having the stamina that would allow me to explore the world’s lawn sculptures. This is going on my “40 under 40” list since my 20s are long gone.

Chin down.
Sorry excuse for a Millennial.

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