Birds and Nature in the Fall on the Trans Canada Trail in Quebec : Baie-Saint-Paul to Montréal

“To hear birdsong is to know the world is still alive.”
 
Rachel Carson
 

Baie-Saint-Paul to Montréal

 

When we returned to Quebec in the fall of 2021, nearly two years had passed since we had walked from Edmundston to Rivière-du-Loup at the end of our first season on the Trans Canada Trail. That earlier journey had taken place in November, when the leaves were mostly gone, the streams were beginning to freeze, and snow was already covering the trail. After two years of COVID lockdowns, provincial closures and logistical challenges, our return to Quebec would lead us to begin again in Baie-Saint-Paul, where – almost immediately – the province felt different. The forests still held colour, the weather was milder, and the St. Lawrence was no longer simply a destination at the end of our walking season but a presence we would follow, leave, and repeatedly return to as we made our way toward Montréal.

 

Our first day in Baie-Saint-Paul gave us a chance to explore before loading our full packs onto our shoulders. We walked through the historic centre, followed the shoreline, and made our way to a nearby Important Bird Area overlooking the St. Lawrence. Heavy fog hung over the water, obscuring much of the distance and distorting the landscape, but after so much time away it simply felt good to be outside and walking again. We headed north along the TCT to Saint-Urbain, surrounded by fall colour and well-maintained trails, before returning to town to prepare for the days and weeks ahead.

 

The next morning we left Baie-Saint-Paul properly, following the shoreline before climbing away from town and into the forests of Charlevoix. The transition happened quickly. Road walking gave way to wide forest pathways, switchbacks, bridges over streams, muddy sections, and increasingly steep terrain as we entered the network of trails that would eventually connect us with the Sentier des Caps. The bright autumn colours that had been visible from town now surrounded us, and for a time the walking was exactly what we had hoped to find when we returned east - quiet forests, cool air, and a real footpath beneath our boots rather than another roadside shoulder.

The single challenge was that the forecast was calling for as much as 70 mm of rain, which would soak through our gear.  Needless it did not take long to convince us to take an unscheduled rest day before continuing deeper into the hills. When we eventually set out again, the weather had improved, but the landscape became steadily more demanding. The trails were now much wetter, with sections churned into mud, and the leaves were now distinctly slippery.  In addition, our route climbed gradually for much of the day, following well-built paths through forest and across waterways, while snowshoe trails and other routes repeatedly crossed our own. By late afternoon the temperature had begun to fall, and we pitched our tent near Refuge Liguori. The change from the open St. Lawrence shoreline to the high forest was remarkable: only a few days earlier we had been looking through fog across the great river, while now our evenings were spent surrounded by trees, listening to wind and rain move through the hills.

 

Sentier des Caps

 

The Sentier des Caps became one of the most memorable natural sections of this return to Quebec, although not always for easy reasons. Cold rain turned sections of the route into marsh, mud filled old streambeds, and steep climbs and descents required our complete attention. Some stretches followed old logging roads, while others plunged into much rougher terrain where slippery roots, wet rocks, and broken rope assists made progress slow.

 

The difficult walking meant that we did not always have the freedom to stop whenever something moved in the forest, but wildlife still found ways to interrupt us. One morning a young porcupine appeared beside the route, slowly trundling through the vegetation as though the rain and our presence were of very little concern. We stopped long enough to photograph it before continuing on. Later that day, after pushing farther than originally planned, we reached Refuge Vache, soaked, thirsty,and exhausted. As evening settled over the forest, a much larger porcupine appeared outside the refuge and began methodically choosing dandelions and other plants to eat. We watched it for a long time as the light disappeared, grateful for the unexpected company after such a hard day.

 

Birds were part of these evenings as well, particularly once darkness had hidden the river from view. From our camps along the Sentier des Caps we could hear Snow Geese out on the St. Lawrence. During this fall journey, the river and nearby Important Bird Areas held thousands of Snow Geese as well as large flocks of ducks, gulls, and Double-crested Cormorants. Hearing the geese from the mountains was very different from watching them through binoculars. Their calls carried upward through the darkness from water we could not see, a reminder that even while we were enclosed by forest and occupied with mud, rain, and steep terrain, the St. Lawrence remained close below us.

 

Down from the Mountains to Cap Tourmente

 

Our final morning on the Sentier des Caps was harder than expected. The route climbed steeply away from the refuge, crossed wet rock and muddy streambeds, and in places brought us close to the edge of the escarpment. We had anticipated a relatively easy descent, but instead spent much of the morning scrambling through difficult terrain. Eventually, near Le Cime, the character of the trail shifted, and the narrow, rough footpath gave way to cleared routes, boardwalks, broad gravel surfaces, and carefully constructed switchbacks that led us down from the escarpment.

 

At the bottom, we reached the birding areas near Cap Tourmente and took time to explore three observation points before continuing west. After days in the forest, it was refreshing to stand again in an open landscape and look outward. We walked the grass berms, stopped at the observation areas, and spoke with Parks Canada and Environment Canada staff about our trek. Rather than trying to turn the stop into a race for species, we simply took the opportunity to look, listen, and enjoy a place where birds and birders were an obvious part of the landscape.

 

The Snow Geese were the larger story of this region of Quebec. As we moved through the St. Lawrence region, large concentrations gathered at the Important Bird Areas along the river. We saw them resting and moving through the area, and at times long lines of them passed overhead across the sky. Their presence became one of the natural markers of the season, just as falling leaves, cooling nights, and the first signs of winter were defining our progress on the ground.  Leaving Cap Tourmente, we followed a mixture of cycling routes and roadways through Saint-Joachim and Beaupré. The forested mountains began to recede behind us while the St. Lawrence remained nearby, and by the time the spires of Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré came into view, we were exhausted. We spent the following day resting before continuing west toward Montmorency Falls and Québec City.

 

Along the St. Lawrence to Québec City

 

The route from Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré toward Québec City was less wild than the Sentier des Caps, but it continued to keep us close to the changing autumn landscape. Avenue Royale took us past old houses, roadside bread ovens, escarpments still carrying brilliant colour, and small communities strung between the hills and river. Rain followed us during part of the day, stopping and starting while temperatures rose and fell quickly enough that layers of clothing repeatedly came on and off.  Montmorency Falls marked another dramatic natural landmark before the trail carried us into Québec City. By then our surroundings had become increasingly urban, and the sounds of traffic gradually replaced the peacefulness we had grown used to in Charlevoix. Here our attention was divided between waterways, roads, bridges, historic neighbourhoods, and the practical problems of navigating a large city on foot.

 

After crossing Québec City and taking the ferry to the south shore, the nature of the journey changed again. The rugged footpaths of Charlevoix were behind us. Ahead lay the increasingly developed network of Route Verte cycling paths and rail trails that would carry us across southern Quebec toward Montréal. Those pathways, like the Petit Temis, would become one of our strongest impressions of the TCT across the province - paved or well-surfaced, frequent rest areas, tree-lined corridors, municipal green spaces, and connections that allowed us to keep moving through agricultural and urban landscapes without always being forced onto busy roads.

 

 Rail Trails, Farmland, and the Changing Season

 

West of Québec City, the walking became physically easier, even if logistics remained complicated. Around Charny and Dosquet, we followed long paved or crushed-stone paths bordered by trees, fields, hydro corridors, and narrow farms. Rest areas appeared regularly along parts of the route, and trail crews were still working as the season wound down, repairing surfaces and preparing sections for winter use.

 

The seasonal change that had chased us out of Quebec in 2019 was becoming visible again. Signs were posted announcing that trails were closing for winter even while hikers and cyclists continued to use them. Snowmobile markers began appearing. Leaves were dropping quickly, and morning frost became more common. Around Plessisville and Victoriaville, however, there were still stretches of remarkable colour, and mild afternoons occasionally pushed temperatures high enough that autumn briefly felt as though it might linger.

 

Beyond Victoriaville we entered rockier country along the Vélo Route des Appalaches. Much of the canopy had emptied by then, leaving tunnels of bare branches above the pathway and carpets of fallen leaves below. Harvesting was underway in the surrounding agricultural landscape, and we once more met crews putting up snowmobile signs.  Each of which provided another reminder that we were again walking toward the end of the season.

 

Given the fact that we were now trekking in the late fall and through urban corridors, our encounters were not always dramatic.  With that said, between Danville and Richmond, the trail passed through a marshy valley bordered by farms. Chickadees seemed to be everywhere, huge flocks of unidentified birds crossed the sky, snakes still appeared along the trail despite the advancing season, and we found tiny Snapping Turtles near the pathway. It was an odd mixture of autumn and persistence: bare trees and threatening rain on one hand, reptiles and active bird flocks on the other. The following day brought a deluge of 50 to 75 mm of rain, forcing us to remain in Richmond while we watched the weather and reconsidered the final stretch to Montréal.

 

Chickadees, Green Spaces, and the Eastern Townships

 

As we moved through the Eastern Townships toward Sherbrooke and Magog, the route continued to alternate between country roads, greenways, residential streets, parks, and forested pathways. It was far less remote than Charlevoix, but nature continued to appear in the spaces between development. In one of the wooded sections, the chickadees were especially active, repeatedly calling around us and even landing on me as we walked. Small urban parkettes provided views over lakes and ponds, while other sections climbed out of town into green spaces where autumn colour still lingered.

 

Those encounters captured something we had come to appreciate throughout the Trans Canada Trail / Sentier Transcanadienne. The most enjoyable birding did not always occur in famous reserves or wilderness. Sometimes it happened on a municipal trail behind houses, beside a neighbourhood lake, or along a strip of woodland preserved between roads. The birding was less about arriving somewhere and more about remaining attentive while moving through whatever landscape the trail provided that day.

 

Approaching Montréal

 

By the time we reached Chambly and began moving toward Longueuil, Montréal was no longer an abstract destination on the map. Its skyline appeared in the distance as we crossed pedestrian bridges and moved through suburban greenways. The Trans Canada Trail and Route Verte led us through parks, along waterways, beside residential neighbourhoods, across railway corridors, and occasionally beside large highways. The closer we came to the city, the more the sounds of traffic, construction, trains, and sirens overwhelmed the quieter natural sounds that had accompanied us through much of Quebec. That made the remaining pockets of nature feel particularly noticeable.

 

Along the final approach to Montréal, we crossed onto islands where Sugar Maples were still holding their leaves, and the route around the old Expo 67 grounds briefly returned us to a surprisingly green landscape before bridges and highways carried us onward. On our final morning for this year on the TCT, it was no longer birds or sunrise that woke us but the roar of traffic outside the hotel, a striking contrast with the evenings on the Sentier des Caps only a few weeks earlier.

 

Our arrival in Montréal also marked the fact that we had now hiked 10,000 km on the Trans Canada Trail. We had begun this particular section among fog, shoreline, and brilliant fall colour in Baie-Saint-Paul. Between there and Montréal, we had crossed steep mountain footpaths, slept beside porcupines, listened to Snow Geese calling from the St. Lawrence in the dark, visited birding areas near Cap Tourmente, followed the river toward Québec City, crossed agricultural landscapes on rail trails, found chickadees and turtles in southern Quebec, and finally watched the countryside give way to the urban landscape of Montréal.

 

Birds and Nature from Baie-Saint-Paul to Montréal

 

This portion of Quebec from Baie-Saint-Paul to Montréal was very different from the short November walk we had completed in 2019. That first section along the Petit Temis from Edmundston, NB to Rivière-du-Loup had shown us a landscape shutting down for winter. Here we arrived earlier in the fall and were able to watch that transition between seasons over several weeks. We began amid forests still carrying colour and Snow Geese gathering along the St. Lawrence. By Victoriaville, many trees were bare, frost covered the ground in the mornings, and regional pathways were being prepared for winter. Yet even near the end, chickadees remained active in the trees, snakes and young turtles appeared along the trail, and isolated pockets of autumn colour survived all the way toward Montréal.

 

The most memorable birding and wildlife moments were not separated from the walk itself. They were the Snow Geese we could hear from our campsite high above the St. Lawrence, the flocks moving through the sky as we continued west, the birds gathered along the river, and the chickadees surrounding us on wooded urban trails. In between were porcupines beside refuges, and reptiles along rail trails.

 

When we reached Montréal, Quebec was still not complete. Another stretch remained between the city and Ottawa, and we now need to return again to finish the province. For now, however, this journey on the Trans Canada Trail has taken us across much of Quebec as well as Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, PEI, New Brunswick, Ontario, Manitoba, and Saskatchewan to its western border with Alberta!

 

See you on the trail!