Three years ago, I expressed the wish to go visit my friend Denis au Lac St-Jean, but the circumstances were not conducive to the meeting: twice, the weather was stormy and the roads were impassable in time for Christmas, for the rest a mixture of contingency and scheduling conflicts have resulted in this project, however simple, is not able to achieve before.
The distance between St-Gedeon of Bergeronnes is not particularly impressive: there are only 200 kilometers of road that separate us, but the road itself is rather unpredictable: the reserve the Sainte-Marguerite is a winding course through a valley to the changing temperature. Thereafter, you have to cross the city of Saguenay, and then follow the road through country roads, where the wind can be an obstacle for drivers accustomed to cities.
The first part of the trip relaxing the traveler, as the landscape is dotted with hills, rivers, waterfalls and ice valleys where the sun likes to create contrasts of light and shadow. Valley St Margaret's worth its weight in gold because it feels in communion with nature in this country we contemplate through the winding path which starts Sacré-Coeur to get to (fire) Chicoutimi, through the charming village of Sainte-Rose-du-Nord.
Then, gradually, through St-Fulgence, we enter the new city of Saguenay, which is a little difficult to cross, when we do not know it. Luckily, I already had the opportunity to make the identification, my uncle who paraded in town before. A blazing sun slaying motorists Boulevard Talbot, who advanced at the same speed as motorists Montreal on Decarie rush hour.
The last step of the road is to go to St-Gedeon it was enough to follow a country road, as there are hundreds in Quebec. I was surprised by cons villages to meet a road, that is to say houses clustered around the 170.
After a journey of three hours, I go to the address given by my friend Denis, genuine guy du Lac. He greets me (a little late), visibly tired from the holidays, his work and his incredible life. In a few months catching up with a few beers, I relax a little on the long road that I made. We went to dinner at Gooffy Alma, to have a traditional meal of Lake : Poutine sauce BBQ with the Red Champagne. After this introduction, we went to drink a beer at Toad, bar well known in the region. Unfortunately for me it was empty and I had a little trouble believing that it upsets the evening peak. Finally, we finished the evening with beers from the microbrewery in St. Gedeon, a very nice place. In the middle of nowhere, there is a very nice little place where the air is filled with hops, which varied and Quebec music collides language together with a strong emphasis cordial. It taking a tasting plate that I discover four kinds of beer. I got a heart for the knitting aunt, the last and strongest of them. Seeing that my friend began to canter, we returned home, issue to bed to get ready for fishing grouper tomorrow.
early morning (read 8:00, during a holiday period), we got up in a form Olympian (a good 20 minutes was needed to extricate ourselves from our respective beds) so we go to the father of Denis, that was good enough to invite us to lunch. Then I had to take clothes that keep me warm on the Lake, then I got kind of a change of style rather exceptional: my coat Kanuk not sufficient to the task: I wore a cloak of an army, with overalls assorted leather gloves, boots doubled or even tripled, a neck and a snowmobile helmet. It should be noted that I am fearful for attaching headphones. When I went to the Bell Centre to skate with the Canadiens, I wanted to lead by example and I brought a helmet ... but we quickly saw that I have never worn a helmet of its kind! In short, I had to explain that I was a "Montreal a bit thick" and I had no idea how I should attach the strap.
We then took a snowmobile to get us in the middle of Lac St-Jean. That is fifteen years since I had not ridden on one of them and this was a very pleasant moment. The idea of going on the Lake, a kind of frozen desert, surprised me, I who knew nothing about ice fishing. But we came close to "trap", a hole identified by a tree branch, then we have piqued the ice. Attached to a transverse branch, a rope of a ten meters was attached to another branch of wood, 3 meters. The latter contained the hooks (pieces of smelt) and groupers who were willing to remain taken. My friend was jubilant, he caught a big fish (including a 2.5-kg).
Driving to his second hole, I was at the controls of a snowmobile accident and fortunately I had a bit annoying: in trying to turn on the ice, the rear of the snowmobile skis before skidding and are placed on snow, which gives a violent backlash, throwing my friend on ice and falling on my driving deep into the ribs. As we drove to low speed, the consequences are relatively minor, but I got off to a good explanation, I am novice. This is an experience that was very striking, especially since the "burping" of ice are quite unique (it is the air that escapes through the water holes, giving a raucous, as if the lake belched).
I also had the opportunity to cross the paternal grandmother of my friend, who would meet his hooks and seemed very dynamic, even at its 77th year. We went back and that was the end. I left the lake, saying that I had the chance to live a great experience.
