Slapped in the face by a butterfly.

Does that count as a bad omen?

Yann and I were feeling cocky after having completed our first double century the previous weekend. This weekend we decided to attempt a back-to-back imperial century ride involving lugging way more than a single air-filled pannier. In my two rear panniers, I packed a tent, sleeping bag, sleeping pad (newly repaired after having been punctured by the cat), camping chair, e-reader, miniature toiletries and some warm clothing as the week-long heat wave had died down.

Continue reading “Slapped in the face by a butterfly.”

Le P’tit Train by nightfall.

In Montréal, we like to ignore the transitional period that is springtime. While crocuses symbolize spring in Vancouver, it was the reappearance of Bixi (public bike sharing system) docking stations that made me realize that winter was finally over.

Within a week of the installation of these bike docks, Montréalais emerge from their goose down cocoons wearing shorts, even when it’s only 10 degrees out. Summer’s too short to not wear shorts.

Our refusal to recognize spring means many of us prematurely dive into summertime activities. Last week’s hike in Parc national du Mont-Tremblant was a cold-blooded reminder that in the mountains there’s still snow. Lots of it.

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