Photos de la Route

It’s late February in Montréal, so the weather is predictably cold and snowy. I’m sitting in a bar on St. Denis with my good pal Nicolas, as we work our way through a second pitcher of Boréal. The topic has drifted from our losses in last fall’s flag football season to passing Roth’s partial differential equations course with flying colours — the second time’s a charm — to Nic’s attempts to educate me on the Québecois music scene. Eventually the conversation turns to summer and I describe the sweet summer job I have lined up. Then Nic fills me in on his plans: the crazy bastard wants to cycle from Vancouver to Montréal.

Another pitcher is in order as he fills me in on the details. His cousin made the trip a few years ago and has given him plenty of tips. She recommended against going east to west like she did, but to start in the west instead. True, you don’t have the mountains to look forward to when you’re crossing the Prairies and Canadian Shield, but you won’t be fighting a headwind most of the way either. I hate cycling into the wind with a passion, so I naturally agree. Of course, that means tackling the Rocky Mountains at the outset — a sobering thought.

Later, as I make my way home through the snowy streets, I can’t help but think what an experience that would be. As a kid, I used to leaf through Canadian Tire catalogs and imagine outfitting my bike with all sorts of cool gear for exactly this kind of adventure. I had no idea how the big the country was at the time, and growing up in the east I wasn’t sure if I knew any better now. But Vancouver did seem awfully far away from Montréal.

Entering my warm apartment — what a great feeling it is to come in from the cold — I’ve already made a decision. I pick up the phone, dial Nic’s number and let him know he’ll have company. Tomorrow I’ll cancel my summer job, somehow break the news to my parents and then figure out how I’m going to afford the next fall semester.