Routhierville Bridge
Gaspe or Squaw Valley?
It was the 8th of July and for the 29th year Saint Quentin was to begin their annual Western Festival (Rodeo) on the July the 9th. I was pretty sure that it was not a show to rival the famed Calgary Roundup in Alberta, Canada; but as a six day event that has been going on for 29 years; I figured that it must be a very substantial indeed.
The ride took me through the National Park and it reminded me very much of the area around Squaw Valley (the site of the 1960 and 1982 Winter Olympics) where I lived for a year in what seems a lifetime ago. These were not the Rockies but the heavily forested range of mountains and the winding rivers provided the vision.
By the time I reached Saint Quentin it was dusk and it was not difficult to find a campsite on grounds if the Festival site, but I was quickly disappointed to hear that the rodeo part of the six day festival was scheduled for the final two days only! It was clear that nothing involving a horse was going to happen for a few days. There was not a horse or horse trailer in sight.
My disappointment considerable, everyone assured me that the rodeo was a fun event, but I had no plans of waiting four more days for it to happen. Fortunately, Saint Quentin was only about seventy miles (one way) off route of travel.
After tending to various chores (including blogging) it was 3:00 PM before I left Saint Quentin, and headed back east to take the coastal route along the Atlantic shore line.
My return was same highway 17 that I had taken Saint Quentin through the heavily forested range of mountains approaching 2000 feet of elevation. The area was very sparsely settled and I remembered that the day before I had been warned to be sure to gas-up before embarking Saint Quentin, few houses equal NO gas stations.
The homes of New Brunswick (and the Gaspe Peninsula as well) were in stark contrast to the larger more prodigious homes to the north of the St. Lawrence Seaway. The homes of New Brunswick seemed to generally smaller and there appear to be fewer new homes. In stark contrast to the Quebec City area, realty signs appeared more present; perhaps, a testament to what I can only guess is a less stable economy.
I was told more than once that there are no jobs outside the lumber, farming, fishing and tourism (during the summer season); even so, they appear to be a happy lot, but appearances can be deceptive, especially to the passing tourist.
