blending an assortment of thoughts and experiences for my friends, relations and kindred spirit

blending an assortment of thoughts and experiences for my friends, relations and kindred spirit
By Alison Hobbs, blending a mixture of thoughts and experiences for friends, relations and kindred spirits.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Through the mist to Tadoussac

So it was another grey morning when I peered through the blinds after our first sleep in the soft, red bed at La Luciole: thick mist! We would have flown on down the coast to Tadoussac and turned left (west) there, at the mouth of the Saguenay River, to fly up the Fjord as far as Chicoutimi, spending the next night there, but there was no point in attempting this in IMC if that meant we couldn't make out anything of the famous scenery below us. Therefore we made the easy decision to take it easy and ask for a second night in Ste-Irénée instead, extending our car rental for another day on the ground.

We chose to drive along the 138, the long road (1,371 km long) that takes motor traffic from Montreal as far as Natashquan and then stops abruptly at the next river bank, perhaps because the engineers were too daunted by the rocky wildness to contemplate continuing beyond there, more likely because provincial funds had run out. Beyond Natashquan travellers must use their own initiative and either carry on either by air or by boat, or, in winter ...

Snowmobile
(When there is snow)
A marked trail, maintained by the Quebec Ministry of Transport, runs from Natashquan to Old Fort (72 km West of Blanc Sablon), a distance of 457 kilometres. You can rest or wait out stormy weather at relay stations, emergency cabins stocked with firewood.

As far as Tadoussac, to which we drove this time, the road that winds up and down the inland hills and skirts the shoreline at accessible points is quiet and well maintained. The views, when you can see them, are splendid. Now and then we left the mist behind and beneath us but after a few miles we sank into it again. In the morning we had very little idea what St-Siméon looked like, but on our return in the clear air of the afternoon we spent an hour over supper in the restaurant that overlooks the ferry dock at St-Siméon, staring at the blue bay beyond, where a minke whale was leaping. "Un rorqual," as the waitress said, "le premier du saison."


Obviously in the mist we weren't going to get the good view up the fjord from the ferry that takes all the road's traffic between Ste-Catherine and Tadoussac, but we did find it exciting to see the ship loom up to fetch us "out to sea" beyond sight of land for those ten minutes or so.

24 km to the east of the Saguenay is an archeology museum that first opened in 1995. We came across it just outside the village of Grandes Bergeronnes, a spot we'd previously only seen from the air or (in May 2007) from the deck of the freighter on which we crossed the Atlantic. This is close to where the pilots of the St-Laurent disembark (at Les Escoumins). It's also the location of a short, narrow, sandy runway and a deserted old hangar. Trying to land at this airport in inclement weather would be suicide, but we drove by to take a look at ground level. The museum is a few metres further along this road, by the water, and is inspired by the amateur archeology of a local eccentric, Louis Gagnon, who while living in a shack like a scruffy old hermit discovered evidence that people have been living on this coastline for the past 8000 years! The museum was well laid out and well run; we were waylaid by an intelligent young lady who showed us how to make our way through the exhibitions, one of which was a multimedia, 3D history show. A temporary exhibition had us in a room full of stuffed wild creatures displayed in dioramas. I particularly remember the large size of the wolf.

From the museum's snack bar we watched the croisières pneumatiques getting ready to depart from the marina and then we drove back down the road to Tadoussac.

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