 | CANADA - |
| CANADA - |
THE SAGUENAY RIVER
On the subject of proceeding, I have left Sainte-Rose_du_Nord and am proceeding on my way into the interior along this famous canyon that is the riviere Saint Marguerite. And just as I expected, things do get better, the farther in that you go.
Hunting around for a nearby mileage marker, I can tell you that this is the view from round about kilometre-marker 81, looking back in the direction from which I have come.
Shortly after this, I encounter some men from Quebec Hydro doing some repair work on an electricity cable. My attention was caught by the truck, parked half-way down the camber of the slope with the man in the cradle slung almost as far out as it would reach, and with not an outrigger in sight.
To paraphrase the words of Sir Daniel Gooch, "what would be said of such a mode of proceeding in the UK?". The British Health and Safety Department, which can ban folding chairs , leave women dying in mineshafts and and dozens of other things besides , would have a field day with this, and I do have to admit that I wouldn't be happy going up in something as unstable as this.
I went and had a chat with the foreman about it. He told me that the pivot is right in the centre of the vehicle and furthermore, the vehicle is specially balanced so that' s why they are comfortable to do it like this.
However, having jogged his memory, he did say that he did remember something vague in the dim and distant past about the use of outriggers, but he can't recall what it might have been.
Ohhh, how I could live in Canada. And that's exactly what I told them working there, giving them a long discussion of the ridiculous lengths to which the British Health and Safety regulations go.
More importantly, I learnt that outriggers are called pattes and the little cradle is a nacelle.
Highway 172 lost touch with the riviere Sainte Marguerite somewhere - I'm not quite sure where - and round about kilometre 101 the highway rises up over a low ridge and I find myself in totally different surroundings.
This is the Saguenay Fjord and in the distance we have our first view of the considerable amount of industry away in the distance around Chicoutimi and Alma. As for the cross in the foreground, I've no idea what that might be. I couldn't find a sign or anything.
You have of course noted the dramatic improvement in the weather now that we have crossed this ridge.
100 yards or so further on, theres quite an impressive view of the opposite bank of the fjord, which I shall be visiting on my way back to the St Lawrence. In the distance are the mountains of the Laurentides and beyond them is the city of Quebec, roughly 200 kilometres away.
I chose the end of April to come to Canada this year because I wanted to see how everything looked before the leaves had started to gro on the trees and block the view, and it certainly seems to have been a good decision.
We are now experiencing a slight logistical issue. I didn't fuel up before leaving Highway 138 because, safe in the knowledge that there are several large towns around the Saguenay Fjord and the lake further up, and so fuel wouldn't be likely to be an issue.
However, I hadn't anticipated the drive of more than 100 kilometres through the mountains in order to reach anywhere, and so it was round about here that I began to have second thoughts about the wisdom of my decision.
With the Dodge now running on fumes, I eventually arrive at a petrol station and to my surprise, fuel here is 135.4 cents - 4 cents cheaper than along the St Lawrence. I'll probably find that I've put diesel into the tank by mistake or something.
But I'll be coming back here again, and quite frequently too, given half a chance. While I was paying for the fuel I noticed a girl walking towards the door of the kiosk so I went and opened it for her. She was totally taken aback by this and gave me an appreciative comment and such a beautiful smile - and she was an extremely attractive girl too.
Obviously, here in the Saguenay, men come first and women come second. A great contrast to the UK where men come first and women not at all.
Just after my fuel stop, the fjord narrows quite dramatically and is more of a river, I suppose. On the opposite shore is the town of Chicoutimi, with its 63,000 inhabitants. It is the largest town in the region and the place where almost everything happens.
This isn't all that we will be seeing of the town, by the way. I'm planning to spend an hour or two wandering around there on my way back to the St Lawrence. You'll just have to be patient.
There are a couple of bridges over the river between Chicoutimi and Chicoutimi-nord, where I am, and at first glance I thought that this one looked as if it might be a railway bridge. However there are motor vehicles driving over it, so who knows?
With all of the heavy industry in the area there must have been a railway here at one time, and there probably still is something working. I'll have to keep my eyes peeled.
I'm not stopping at Chicoutimi on this way round. I'm heading north towards Alma.
And not only have we had a dramatic change in the weather just this last half-an-hour, we've also had a dramatic change in the landscape. Ignoring the industry for a moment, we have fertile, rolling grassland and meadows, quite a contrast to the impossible rocks and forests of further down towards the St Lawrence.
I certainly wasn't expecting to see this.
I think that here's a certain grandeur about industrial premises even though not too many other people agree with me. Industrial archaeology has always been a hobby of mine, as you know.
Leaving aside for a moment the negative aspects of industry such as pollution, damage to the environment and exhaustion of raw materials, the positive side of the coin is that it's providing employment.
People living out here in the north of Canada beyond the reach of the major cities don't have too many choices about what they can do to earn a living, and something has to be done to stop the flood of people deserting areas like these.
I'm something of an environmentalist and I would much rather see pure, unspoilt countryside where everyone has gone back to nature as I have done but everyone has the right to earn a living and you can't take away people's employment without giving them some other alternative.
This is something that a great many environmental campaigners overlook or, even worse, ignore.
You have probably gathered that as I'm driving around the countryside, I'm having a host of distractions. I have my eye open for things going on in the background, I have a hand-held dictaphone into which I dictate my notes, I have the camera at the ready, and there's also a pile of decent rock music blaring out of the speakers.
All in all, to say that I'm concentrating on my driving is, well, somewhat optimistic and fully aware of this fact, I have the cruise control in the Dodge screwed down tightly to 88 kph, just in case.
And that is just as well, for I have just driven down a very steep hill and over a slight blind rise and there at the bottom hidden up a side-road is a Kojak with a Kodak. Yes, I like cruise control.
Now, if you remember from quite a while back , I was puzzled as to how the police did this as cars in the Province of Quebec don't have a front numberplate, something that I find rather bizarre. How do the police work out which particular car has been "flashed"?
But here's my chance. Bearing in mind that if you want to know the answer, you have to ask the question. And so I stopped, like you do ... "well, like YOU do" - ed ... and went over to the copper to ask the question.
His answer was even more straightforward than my question. "We don't have cameras here. This is a simple radar gun that shows the speed and if someone goes past us too fast we just chase after them"".
How delightfully primitive. Much better than hi-tech nonsense isn't it?
And while I was ruminating on his answer, one of these typical Canadian marching women went past. It's all happening here.
Other things that are happening on the banks of the Saguenay River are rapids and waterfalls.
Tectonic movement, the rising and falling of parts of the earth's surface, quite often brings rocks of different structure into position alongside each other. Geological erosion takes place at different rates, depending upon the hardness of the structure of the rock, leading to uneven wear, and this is one of the (many different) causes of rapids such as we have here.
Sometimes the different rates of erosion can be quite spectacular and when you add to that a rift in the earth's crust caused by tectonic plate movement which causes part of the surface to drop, you can have some quite spectacular waterfalls too.
If only I could find a way to reach the bottom of that waterfall I would be in my elephant, but as you might expect, I can't find a way down, despite something of an exhaustive search.
I'll have to see what I can see with the telephoto lens from the other side of the river on my way back.
As I continue my little drive towards the north-east in the general direction of St Charles, the countryside closes up again and I find myself unexpectedly driving along the top of a rather enclosed and steep-sided valley, something rather like a canyon.
The ground here is nothing but sand as you can see with just the odd tree growing rather precariously and it's no surprise that this area is famed for the quality of its beaches.
The presence of all of this sand in an area such as this is quite easy to explain, in my opinion.
I reckon that it dates back to the glacial age. As the glaciers spread southwards during the various ice ages, they picked up boulders all along their route and these boulders banged and crashed into each other as they were swept along by the ice.
The constant friction of the boulders rubbing against each other smoothed off the rough edges of the boulders and the debris is what we see today as the sand. The sand was deposited on the ground when the glciers melted away.
The Dodge and I finally arrive at St Charles de Bourget, and I wonder what, if anything, goes on here. Not very much by the look of things because I had a wander around and couldn't see any signs of anything.
It's not as quiet as this in August though. It seems that one weekend in mid-August the vilage becomes some kind of focal point for all of the cyclists in the region and all kinds of activities are laid on for them.
The focal point of any village in Quebec is the church, and this one is dated 1915. How it has survived this long without falling victim to a major fire like everywhere else in Quebec is a mystery to me.
Inside the church is, apparently, an exhibition of paintings by a local artist
Leaving the town, I have a choice of two routes. The metalled Highway 172 which is the main road around here, and a dirt road that meaders somewhat through the countryside.
You don't need to be told which route it was that I chose. It brought back many happy memories of our journey around Labrador in 2010
. Still, nostalgia ain't what it used to be, I suppose, and there are many more adventures waiting for me somewhere.
There were plenty of things to see and do along this road, and one of the more exciting discoveries that I made was this quarry, one of several along this stretch of road
I've no idea what kind of rock that they quarry around here but it's big, black and heavy, and it's impressive enough to be marble but I don't suppose that it is. In circumstances like these I would usually find someone to ask, but there didn't seem to be anyone around.
But never mind - I'll probably be able to work it out
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