P’tit train du Nord : Saint-Jérôme to Sainte-Marguerite

We were woken up early by the sounds of the birds in the trees above our tent, but we resisted getting up until around 6:30 am.  After making coffee and eating some raisin bread, we had everything packed up and were ready to head out of the still sleeping campground by around 7:30 am.  The 3 km walk back to the trail seemed far shorter after a good night's rest than it had in the heat of yesterday afternoon at the tail end of our 44 km trek. 

 

Although we felt we had made a pretty good start to the day, we were soon waylaid by a bakery in the Place de la Gare at the heart of Saint-Jérôme.  This large brick plaza is bordered by a café, a micro brewery, the historic train station, and a restored CP Railway carriage that has been converted into an ice cream store (closed at 8:00 am).

A colourful mural dedicated to Le P'tit Train du Nord was painted on the side of a building on one end of the square.  Finally, a brass plaque on the ground at the foot of a metal archway spanning the trail marked the official beginning of Le Parc Linéare le P'tit Train du Nord and indicated that it was 200 km to Mont Laurier from that point. 

The entire square felt like a celebration of the trail we were about to embark on.  Although it was relatively empty at 8:00 am on a Sunday morning, it felt really good to be setting off on a trail that was a valued part of the community, or at the very least, the local economy.  Supposedly the P’tit Train du Nord is the longest trail of its kind in the world, it is known as one of Canada’s best cycling trails, and it is explored thousands of cyclists, skiers, and hikers each year. 

We sat in the square for a bit, enjoying a delicious iced café au lait and homemade oatmeal chocolate chip muffins from Le Vert Café and Bistro in the warm, sunny, morning. 

Eventually we set off, passing the impressive cathedral, with its tall silver shingled spire and curving silver roof. We walked by a tiny but beautifully landscaped peace park dedicated by the local Amnesty International group to protecting and promoting Human Rights, and to remembering the victims of violent acts of intolerance or hatred. 

The morning was already bright, sunny, and quite warm as we followed the wide, two-lane paved cycling path, which wove between residential neighbourhoods and through a corridor of deciduous trees.  For the first few kilometres we paralleled the highway fairly closely, the roar of the traffic so loud it nearly drowned out the birdsong. 

 

 

Soon the paved cycling trail pulled away from the highway and began following the Rivière du Nord.  The sound of traffic was replaced by the roar of rushing water from the extremely fast-flowing river.  This waterway is 137 km long, beginning in the Laurentian Mountains at Lac Brulé and flowing through the Laurentides out to the Ottawa River. 

Development along the river was largely due to the efforts of François-Xavier-Antoine Labelle (1833 -1891), who was known as 'Curé Labelle' and the 'King of the North'.  He was a Catholic priest and principally responsible for settling the Laurentides Region, as well as in getting the railway line along the river built, which in the 1990's was converted to the P'tit Train du Nord cycling route. 

About an hour and a half into our walk we came to a pull-off under a stand of huge, tall white pines on the shore of the river.  A small wooden cabin provided a refuge under the pines, with the rushing rapids only a few meters away.  We stopped at a nearby picnic table for a few moments to watch the river and take a break in the much-appreciated shade.  We were intrigued to see that the 'paper' provided in the refuge to get the wood stove going was a large box of Magic game cards.  At one point we had a younger family member who would have spent a happy hour sorting through these cards in search of good ones, and who would have been pained by the idea that the rest were being used as firestarters. 

The wide, crushed-stone dust trail followed the forested river corridor for a few pleasant kilometres, growing steadily busier with cyclists as we approached the community of Prévost.  Around 10 am we ducked through a small pedestrian tunnel under the highway that was decorated with bright and creative street art, and then began following the trail through town.  

We followed a nice green corridor between neighbourhoods and beside plazas with box stores.  At one point we stopped at Tim Hortons for a cold drink and bathroom break, before rejoining the busy trail once again.  We were very happy to see many families and large groups of kids out having fun on the sunny weekend morning.

Prévost was created in 1973 when the villages of Shawbridge, Lesage, and Prévost were amalgamated.  Shawbridge was named after William Shaw (1805-1894), who settled the township and built the first bridge over the Rivière du Nord.  From our perspective on the trail the three communities seemed upscale and indistinguishable, except that Shawbridge boasts a gourmet Microbrasserie that we'd seen advertised several times along the trail, as well as a restored train station that now serves as a rest stop for cyclists.

The parking lot outside the Gare de Prévost was full of cars, and many of the picnic tables scattered around the green space in front were full of cyclists taking a break.  Several people stopped to ask about our packs and where we were walking, and to wish us well.  We stepped inside the station to see if they sold trail patches for our backpacks.  While they offered a wide variety of trail themed merchandise, sadly there were no crests.  However, the friendly young man who worked in the shop offered us free trail stickers and a handful of gummy bears in exchange for our story.  What lovely trail magic! 

As we headed off again we passed the entrance to the Alfred-Kelly Nature Reserve.  This 500 ha natural reserve is managed by the Nature Conservancy of Canada, and is named after a very generous donor with a passion for birds and conservation.  It is located at the heart of the Piedmont and Prévost escarpments, whose steep rock walls provide nesting habitat for 80% of the bird of prey species listed in Quebec.  The site is also home to a huge variety of plants, as well as amphibians and reptiles.  There are 16 km of trails that are usually open to the public for skiing and hiking, although a few were closed right now as a result of downed trees from the recent storm. 

 

We would have loved to explore this intriguing natural area, but we needed to continue onward.  For the next 6 km or so we followed the wide, crushed stone dust trail through beautifully forested corridors and along the winding Rivière du Nord.  In places the river was wide and calm, and in others it tumbled and roared down narrow chutes in boisterous plumes and active white rapids. 

Since leaving Saint-Jérôme the path had been gently but steadily climbing.  The slope was never more than a 2% grade, so the elevation gain was almost unnoticeable, but by the time we reached the community of Piedmont it felt like we were in the mountains. All we saw of the small village of about 3,000 people was a golf course, a downhill ski resort in the background, and an enticing sign advertising the Boulangerie Merci de la Vie.

Although we didn't divert across the river on the impressive looking wooden pedestrian bridge, which was being frequented by quite a few well-dressed day hikers, we later learned that many people in this town are still without electricity or water after the storm last week.  

We had been seeing a lot of downed trees along the trail all day, but the cleanup crews have done a phenomenal job of keeping an open and debris-free pathway for the cyclists. Removal of the large trees will undoubtedly follow in the coming days, once power has been restored throughout the large area affected by the storm.  This seems to be yet another example of the unpredictable and increasingly violent weather we can expect as the climate continues to change. 

It was a hot afternoon as we continued to wind through the forested mountain landscape, following the gently curving river.  More spruce and white pine were mixed in with the American beech and sugar maple forests as we climbed.  Not too many birds were active in the afternoon sunshine, but we caught the flash of bright blue from a Blue Jay collecting insects at the side of the trail, and more than one set of Chipping Sparrows seemed to be frantically feeding young in nests near the trail.  Overhead a large Red-tailed Hawk and two Turkey Vultures circled in the clear blue sky. 

One of the aspects of hiking in Quebec that we enjoy are having official trail signs listing the bakeries, microbreweries, and auberges that are coming up along the trail.  We'd been seeing signs for the Café de la Gare and Espresso Sports in the restored train station in Mont-Roland (part of Saint-Adele) for a while, and when we reached the shaded picnic tables outside the station we were ready for a break.  

Sainte-Adele was founded in 1855, after Augustin-Norbert Morin purchased a great deal of land in the area for 8 cents per arpent – which according to online resources is an old French unit of land area equivalent to 3,420 square meters (about 1 acre), the standard measure of land in those areas settled during the French regime and in use until the 1970s.  Once purchased Moring then turned around and sold it to the colonists who followed him for $8 per arpent, making a hefty profit in the process.  The CP Railway came to the town in 1891, providing a means of transporting wood, cattle, dairy products, and mail. In 1938 the Chantecler Hotel was opened, a 45 room inn which today is a world class resort and conference center.  Two other hotels, La Maison Blanche and the Ste. Adele Lodge also brought skiiers to the town in the 1930's. The Ste. Adele Lodge was famous for its Red Room, a dance hall named after the polished red cement floor, and for its swimming pool with three diving boards that was the biggest in Quebec outside of Montreal.  The owners of these lodges, who also held property in Mont Tremblant, were instrumental in the development of the ski industry in the Laurentians, which now has one of the densest networks of ski resorts in the world. 

The little café in Saint Adele was bustling with people when we arrived, and offered a tantalizing array of options, but we settled for fruit/veggie smoothies and salty potato chips.  We found an unoccupied table and enjoyed our break in the shade of the small green space.  A colourful trail was located beside the station, which also rented mountain bikes.  Before leaving the lovely area we took the opportunity to refill our water bottles from the fountain. 

Feeling somewhat more refreshed, we headed back onto the trail for the final 8 km or so of today's hike.  We continued the climb through pleasant corridors of green forest. In this stretch the far side of the river was bordered with many wood cabins and small cottages.  As we rounded a large curve in the river the sound of chainsaws could be heard up ahead, and the smell of wood smoke filled the air.  It looked like many huge pines and other trees had snapped or been uprooted in the recent storm, and the owners of the homes were laboriously clearing them out. 

Just before we reached our end point for the day we came to a small but very impressive set of rapids with a small waterfall.  A sign indicated a side trail to the 'Relais de Père Eddy', which we decided to explore.  It turned out to be a small wooden cabin that served as a refuge for hikers and skiiers in the mountains.  A signed footpath wove through the cedar forest and large boulders at the edge of the river, offering those adventurous enough to explore a closer view of the thundering waterfall.  The cabin was covered in wooden panels that had writing, poetry, and pictures burned into them, but we weren't able to decipher them too well. 

Around 4:30 pm we arrived at Sainte-Marguerite Station, where we were staying for the night at the quaint and quiet Auberge de la Gare.  We crossed under the highway and then a small footpath led us off the trail and around to the front porch of the B&B.  Our hostess was very nice and kind, showing us up to our room and taking our order for breakfast before leaving us to take showers and hand-wash our laundry.

 

We walked back out to the little marché a few meters down the road, and were somewhat stunned to discover that our modest supper of greek salad, one small ham and swiss sandwich, a bar of chocolate, and two cans of local beer from the Shawbridge Microbrasserie came to a whopping $69!  We seem to be in a region with resort prices. 

We sat under the pines on the large wrap-around porch of the auberge to eat our dinner and dry the tent out.  As we sat there a modest swarm of blackflies quickly gathered around us, determined to crawl up our pants, under our hats, into our eyes, and through our hair.  Luckily they weren't biting yet, but it was an uneasy preview of what the days ahead will bring.  We were lucky to avoid blackfly season last year, but it looks like this year we won't be so fortunate!

See you on the trail!

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