Fog mostly obscures bridges over the St. Lawrence River as we leave the “national” capital. You may think it’s Ottawa, but in this province it’s Québec City.
We escaped the dense fog, but continued to see it in valleys for some time.
Finally: clear and colorful.
Pair of facing wood figures by the tracks in Lac-Mégantic. Lac-Mégantic is where a 74-car train derailed and exploded in July 2013 killing over 45 people and destroying more than 30 downtown buildings. We saw many new buildings and more empty spaces. Land along the tracks remains unbuilt, and is now a park with signs detailing the history, nice plantings, and public art.
Metal art by the tracks in Lac-Mégantic.
We approached Mont Mégantic from the SE. That’s the rim of what looks like a crater, but officials indicate is a monadnock. Reasonable signage in the visitor center. Like much of the signs in the province they are in French only. I take this as great sarcasm (or something) on the part of French Canadians, who made the rest of Canada post bilingual signs and official displays.
View from the “rim” to the east. Those bumps on the horizon are northern outposts of the Appalachians.
Mont Mégantic from the SW. Love the quick transition between the lower deciduous forest and the upper pines.
We crossed an international border. Some slight confusion about why people from Georgia are in this part of the world, but that’s to be expected.
We have been seeing moose signs since soon after we crossed into Canada. Or: moose signage. No moose. Thankfully! [They are huge beasties!]
And, unusually, we’re overnighting in a resort that echos a Mrs. Maisel complex without the entertainment facilities, other than…
…fishing and a dock and boats. You’re on your own to enjoy the fresh air. And the moon!
10 October 2019 at 6:34 am
Sammy's Second Cousin says:
One of my great-great grandmothers on the maternal side was born in the Eastern Townships, somewhere near Sherbrooke in 1825. Her uncle had obtained a huge land grant in the region for services rendered to King George III during the Napoleonic Wars and brought over his two brothers to settle it. Her father later emigrated to the United States and settled in a place called New York City, and after her marriage she moved to a very strange place named Brooklyn, where all of her children were born. She died there in 1904. This makes me one-
sixteenth Canadian.
In her day the Eastern Townships were predominately Anglophone, but that changed in the 1870s. In 1967 I rode in a bus through the Eastern Townships on my way to Montreal for Expo ’67 without knowing that I had ancestors who lived there. I discovered this almost 20 years ago, too late to tell my mother about it. Je me souviens.