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L'ANSE DE ROCHE
You may well have arrived on this page having followed my journey along the North Shore of the St Lawrence on the previous page .
The reason why I'm taking this detour is because I've driven past the turning down here once or twice and the name of the Saguenay seemed to be quite enigmatic. I had therefore resolved to explore it at the next available opportunity.
Furthermore, I'm told that this is one of the most beautiful places in the whole of Eastern Canada. If it is indeed more beautiful than anything that I had seen up to date then it really has to be something.
So here I am. Off into, what for me at any rate, are uncharted wastes, heading out towards the Sageunay.
First objective has to be L'Anse de Roche and the Baie Sainte Marguerite. This is the view that many people will recognise as it's used frequently in Tourism literature.
And quite right too because it really is quite spectacular, even in the doom and gloom of a misty early May evening, when you come upon it unawares.
But not a single photo that I have ever seen taken from this viewpoint shows the pylons and the overhead power cables. They have always been surreptitiously edited out.
I shan't be doing this as they are old friends of ours. They bring power to Montreal from the huge hydro-electric plants on the Manicouagan, a couple of which we encountered on our drive around the Trans-Labrador Highway
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Driving on down to the water's edge, there are some excellent views, such as this one looking southwards along the shore of the Saguenay in the direction of Tadoussac.
You can see why it is that the Saguenay Fjord has been described as resembling the coast of Norway - not that I have ever yet been to Norway. But it is just like Norway in that it's freezing here, especially when you are standing in the wind.
There's a village here of course. It's behind me ... "ohh no, it isn't!" - ed ... "ohh yes it is" - Yours Truly ... and I have to say that the inhabitants have a spectacular view of the bay from where they live, especially when there are no leaves as yet on the trees.
One of the things that the locals will doubtless be viewing are the beluga that, apparently, visit the bay in considerable numbers.
But it really is beautiful here. If the rest of the voyage around here lives up to what I have seen so far it then I shan't be complaining.
To return to the main road, there are two ways out of the bay. One is the one down which we came, the scenic one. However the other one, which is maybe not so scenic, has a really steep climb and a flat bit at the top.
From this photo you will understand why I chose the latter route. Yes, it's a dirt road and it brings back all kinds of happy memories of my drive around the Trans-Labrador Highway in 2010. Home from home, you might say.
So here I am, out on my anse and back on the main road. We'll be following the Rivière Ste Marguerite for a while, and I've heard it said somewhere, although I'm not quite sure where, that the next 59 miles of road are usually quite difficult in winter.
That's quite likely to be the river valley over there and it looks like the entrance of what looks like a phenomenal pass or valley. I hope that we'll be going that way because it looks quite spectacular from here
It is indeed, but we are hemmed in to the river quite closely so there isn't a particularly good viewpoint where I could take a photograph.
First item of note is a covered bridge, and it might not look much like it because the position for photography was horrible. I would ordinarily have gone round to the other bank of the river to take the photo but the bridge was closed for repair and it was not possible to reach the other bank of the river.
Anyway, it's nothing like the covered bridge in Hartland that we shall be encountering in a couple of weeks. That one, the longest covered bridge in the world, rather spoils your appetite for others.
We're on Highway 172 here on the eastern side of the Saguenay, and that's something of a fairly modern metalled highway in very good condition.
I have however managed to find a road that was probably the old trace of the highway before the route was modernised and so I set off for a drive down there.
I didn't travel very far down there though because I was quite often losing traction on the sandy surface that clearly hadn't been maintained for years. And this was with a period of I dunno how long of drought.
One really good and sudden torrential downpour, which can easily happen round here, and I would be having all kinds of complications. With discretion being the better part of valour, I turned back.
On the way down that bit of road, I had noticed a kind-of pull-in or lay-by not too far along the old road where the surface was still reasonably solid. Out of the way of everyone and everything and reasonably sheltered, so I reckoned that this will do me for a place to stay for the night.
I cooked some supper (I'm doing it again - going all north-American) inside the back of the car and it all worked rather well. I had a lovely meal of spaghetti, lentils, mixed veg, and tomato mushroom and garlic sauce and all that I needed after that was some coffee.
Instead however, even though it was only about 21:30, I hit the sack. And despite being as tired as I was, it took me ages to go to sleep and I'm not guite sure why.
It must be my guilty conscience I reckon.
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