Trois-Rivières to Montréal, QC
Traditional territory of the Haudenosaunee and Wabanaki Confederacy
149 km
Sunshine and thunderstorms, 25 ºC
Years ago, I lost the cap off the mode dial of my Canon 6D. It never posed a problem and I figured it was a cosmetic issue, until I ran into an issue with leaked dish soap while in the canyonlands of Utah. I fixed it, then before I could address the mode dial cap my lens started falling apart and that became a bigger priority.
Back in Newfoundland, I used my camera on a rainy day and faced the same issue as in Utah. I cleaned and dried it again, this time covering the mode dial in electrical tape to try to prevent it from the elements. Then, almost a week ago, I used my camera in a really heavy thunderstorm and zonked the mode again. I pulled the electrical tape off and the camera dried itself out, then the air got wet and humid again in the following days, and all this is to say that it’s been a while since I’ve been able to have full control over my camera shooting settings.
(It is, as I’m writing this in Montréal, once again cleaned, dried and taped even more ferociously.)
So I’ve had to tolerate auto settings, which as a professional photographer is more difficult to tolerate than you might think.
I forget why I’m describing that. Three highlights from today. Firstly, fresh strawberries. I actually had my first fresh strawberries yesterday, in the home of a woman named Viviane, but I only ate two out of politeness. Today, we split a whole box and I ate them while riding and they brought to mind every single summer’s day that my siblings and I skipped school with my mom to go strawberry picking. Fresh strawberries always make me think of that.
Secondly, we ran into another heavy thunderstorm but I bet that it wouldn’t last long. After getting thoroughly soaked in hard wind with zero rain gear on, I started to seriously question my bravado. But then it stopped, the sun dried everything out and I felt like a hero.
Thirdly, I came across this sign. “Live your dream and share your passion. Life is short.” Having ridden 90 km and nearly two months already, this message really spoke to me and I stopped to let it sink in fully. Then got a chance to speak with Cécile-Diane, who had written the message.
“I write them first of all for myself,” she said. “It’s good to have a reminder of these things. But other people take notice, I’ve received messages in my mailbox thanking me for encouraging them to think and reflect.”
“Even a bottle of wine,” she laughed. “I don’t know where that came from.”
