Day 11 - Quebec

When you ride on a motorcycle you find many ways to pass the time when the road is boring, Charlie Boorman did wheelies and stood on his seat, I, on the other hand am a little less adventurous, but with my wonderful singing voice, I entertain myself with trying to sing songs as loud as possible without actually scaring the passing motorists. Herman and I don't listen to iPods when we ride, because we enjoy the feeling of being alone with our thoughts. Mine tend to lean towards the darker side, but that's another story. On with the road trip.

We realized that Herman's bike is less fuel efficient than mine, even though it's a smaller engine, but perhaps because of the gear and rider being a little heavier. We also realized that his bike gurgles down oil. Luckily Herman knew this and has oil with him on the bike. So when we stop at night, that's one more task to complete: check the oil in the KLR.

We said goodbye to New Brunswick and arrived in glorious heat in Quebec. Yesterday the temperature was 32.5 degrees C and today it was 31 degrees. Quebec features excellent rest stops along the retard highway, and the scenery is much improved with forests on both sides, and the inevitable signs of moose crossings. I am still perplexed by the evasive moves I will have to take, but I digress.

Sometimes when I stop, I check my cell to see if the kids have sent any text messages. When we crossed into Quebec it was the first time that I wasn't roaming for about two days straight. Most of NB was in a roaming area.

It was at one of these lovely rest stops (see pictures) when I noticed that there is a really dark cloud down the road, but with the heat thunderstorm or two can be expected. We both decided to head out and get wet to relieve some of the heat. A nice heavy downpour and some strong winds almost lifted me off seat, but the road was straight and with the roadworks making the road narrower and the traffic slower, we kept going. It lasted just for about 5 minutes and then the sun came out, so on we went. About 60km later another little spat, and then we were pretty much surrounded by dark clouds, and nearing Quebec City. Did I mention that it was now the middle of Tuesday afternoon rush hour traffic? Well, it was. Only now Herman is trying to navigate at the same time, and of course a car pulls inbetween us, and we cannot see each other. We have to go right, so I catch up with him again, and just then the skies open once again, and we pull off to the right of the highway under an overpass. Another motorcyclist (about 70 years old) is also there, and welcomes the sight of two other idiots on bikes in the storm. We spent ten minutes trying to communicate with our no French and his somewhat English and then the sun came out, so off we go into speeding traffic from the shoulder of a six-lane highway on a wet surface, but we all made the crossing over the bridge alive, despite the 1.5 m steel joints on the bridge (did I mention wet surface). I think some Country Singer can write a song about this...

Anyway, we head off down the other side thanking our lucky stars that we didn't skid out on the joints, when once again, traffic comes to an almost complete stop due to roadworks. There are now seven lanes of traffic reduced into five lanes of traffic, four different directions and the skies open again with the mother of all downpours. Rain suits were purchased prior to this trip, but they are on the back of Herman's bike, and you cannot stop in the middle of a highway to change gear, so we get soaked! I could actually feel the water run down my legs into my boots. Suddenly the traffic starts moving again, and the now four lanes are reduced to three and at least five cars cut inbetween our bikes, so now I cannot see Herman at all. It is still raining when I decide that the next exit looks like it has a biker on it, so I change lanes at the speed of pretty fast, and lo and behold it is Herman, but before I can catch up to him, a policeman on a bike cuts over the two lanes of the off ramp to get back onto the highway right in front of little old me, but we all make it safely to the traffic light. A few turns away, some more construction and we reach our destination. Needless to say there won't be any painting of the town tonight. We will head out first thing and see what we can see of the old city in the morning.

The motel owner was kind enough to let me dry our clothes in their dryer, so at least our jeans are dry. The boots and jackets will probably dry out on the road tomorrow.

Another adventurous day on the journey. And people ask me how we managed to stay married for this long...