Conquering "Le Nordet"
Jul. 24th, 2017 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daemavandThis post is dedicated to friends who encourage you to put yourself in an uncomfortable position, so that you may achieve something you wouldn't have on your own.
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I have this friend named Maximilian. He holds a unique trifecta: friend, colleague, former roommate. Max is one of the most distinctive and unique individuals I've ever encountered. Loud, steadfast, vehemently opinionated: it's not really surprising we get along. Even when he drives me fucking crazy.
Speaking seriously: he's a fantastic friend.
Every so often though, he will attempt to kill me. This past weekend was one of those cases.
He first informed me about Le Nordet sometime last summer, when he was training heavily for a Half Iron Man triathlon. Le Nordet is a 30.5 km stretch of single-lane highway up in the Laurentians of Québec starting a few kilometers away from St. Donat. The region is offensively scenic, and this highway is popular for cyclists and motorcyclists owning to the beautiful ride it provides. It doesn't take you anywhere efficiently by car, which is why it's not well traveled by other vehicles.
Not only does it give stunning views and has sparse motor traffic, it's also a motherfucker of a ride. As you're riding through a mountain range, there's lots of climbs and descents. This means that after going and returning, (which is typically what most do as it is not a loop, and you need to get back to your car somehow) you would have covered a minimum distance of 61 km (37.9 mi) and ascended a total of ~830 m (2723 ft) in elevation. That's a LOT.
As it's not an easy ride, it's not meant for tourists - the cyclists doing this are usually competitive athletes looking to train (or do something scenic, and get a workout at the same time). I like to cycle, and I like to push my limits, but I'm by no means an elite athlete. Max, on the other hand, is a pretty badass cyclist owing to his training. I'm pretty sure you could carve up deli meats on the edges of his massive calves.
He'd tell me about this route and how lovely it is, and I'd agree that it must be lovely and never really consider that it'd be something I'd actually be able do without collapsing from cardiovascular seizure, or giving up prematurely.
Last week, Max planted the seed:
"Hey, you know what? Let's attempt Le Nordet this weekend."
"With me? Are you fucking crazy?"
"I'll bring my daughter in her trailer. That way, I'll have a handicap, and you won't feel pressured to keep up at my pace."
"Dude... I'd love to, but I really don't think I can physically handle that elevation."
"Whatever! Let's just give it a shot. Worst case, we do part of it, and have a lovely day. Best case, we complete it, and have an epic day."
It took a few conversations to convince me, but eventually, I agreed. In the words of my favorite streamer, Asmongold: "never stop going big dick."
...ahem. Essentially, don't sell yourself short, because you don't know what you'll be missing out on if you do.
As I said, I like to push my limits, so I usually revel in challenges - the crazier, the better - but I was legitimately concerned about Le Nordet. I've cycled longer distances without too much trouble (I think my record is 121 km in a single day), but going uphill kills me; my legs simply need to become stronger. When I set out on a challenge, I only like to do it if there's some kind of a possibility that I can overcome it: I really didn't know if I could do that, here.
Max's major point was that if we failed to complete the entire circuit, we still would still have accomplished *something*, and that's far better than not trying. We'd still be together and enjoy the outdoors. I'd experience something new. I agree with this mentality, and so, we were off we went on Saturday morning.
Well.
We completed it.
The whole goddamn thing. I don't know how.
It's still setting in. It took us 3 hours and 20 minutes of cycling time (not including time spent during a halfway break).
Huge shout out to Max for firstly, once again being a good friend, and pushing me to do something I wouldn't have thought to do without that extra push. Secondly, for being a fucking Spartan cyclist: he did the route WITH THE TRAILER AND HIS CHILD INSIDE OF IT. AND FOOD. AND EXTRA WATER. That's an extra 60-70 pounds of shit. He was slower than me because of this extra resistance BUT STILL DID THE DAMN THING. Other cyclists would literally STARE at him while he passed with the classic "what in the merciful fuck oh my god he's actually doing this circuit with that how the good lord how what the fuck" look of confusion. Several cheered him on and gave him thumbs up, which was awesome.
There is no better feeling that conquering a massively steep, lengthy pitch of road, and then getting to the other side... and being rewarded with a descent so rewarding you're buzzing the whole way down. Similar to a roller coaster. I later found out I blasted down some of these hills going 65-70 km/h (40-43 mph). It was out of this world.
(His daughter loved the excursion if you're wondering - she's such an easygoing, good-natured kid. She started to cry when we told her we were done and there would be no more cycling for the day. Luckily, she stopped when she was reminded we were going to the beach instead.)
We spent a the night at a chalet in the region, which was also lovely.
The next day, I was so pumped by what we had seen and done the previous day that after returning to Montréal, I ended up cycling another 30 km, including going over the Jacques Cartier Bridge.
I think today is going to be a rest day, though. And by rest day, I mean drinking sangria with other wonderful friends. Provided I can convince my legs to transport me there.
Now, photos! That really don't do the justice, but it's the best I can do.
The beginning of the circuit. Hoorah.
This is basically the sort of view/terrain you'd expect to see throughout the circuit.
Max, aka Iron Dad, doing his thing.
A river!
Pitches of this steepness were a motherfucker to climb, but meant you got to blaze down once you reached the top.
The halfway point :)
Coming back, we had to walk this stretch, it was too much for both of us. It allowed us to take in the region, though, which I can't complain.
We briefly dropped by the beach afterwards to jump in the lake, which was THE BEST FEELING EVER.
At the chalet. The "secret" sitting spot. I love this chalet.
---------------
I have this friend named Maximilian. He holds a unique trifecta: friend, colleague, former roommate. Max is one of the most distinctive and unique individuals I've ever encountered. Loud, steadfast, vehemently opinionated: it's not really surprising we get along. Even when he drives me fucking crazy.
Speaking seriously: he's a fantastic friend.
Every so often though, he will attempt to kill me. This past weekend was one of those cases.
He first informed me about Le Nordet sometime last summer, when he was training heavily for a Half Iron Man triathlon. Le Nordet is a 30.5 km stretch of single-lane highway up in the Laurentians of Québec starting a few kilometers away from St. Donat. The region is offensively scenic, and this highway is popular for cyclists and motorcyclists owning to the beautiful ride it provides. It doesn't take you anywhere efficiently by car, which is why it's not well traveled by other vehicles.
Not only does it give stunning views and has sparse motor traffic, it's also a motherfucker of a ride. As you're riding through a mountain range, there's lots of climbs and descents. This means that after going and returning, (which is typically what most do as it is not a loop, and you need to get back to your car somehow) you would have covered a minimum distance of 61 km (37.9 mi) and ascended a total of ~830 m (2723 ft) in elevation. That's a LOT.
As it's not an easy ride, it's not meant for tourists - the cyclists doing this are usually competitive athletes looking to train (or do something scenic, and get a workout at the same time). I like to cycle, and I like to push my limits, but I'm by no means an elite athlete. Max, on the other hand, is a pretty badass cyclist owing to his training. I'm pretty sure you could carve up deli meats on the edges of his massive calves.
He'd tell me about this route and how lovely it is, and I'd agree that it must be lovely and never really consider that it'd be something I'd actually be able do without collapsing from cardiovascular seizure, or giving up prematurely.
Last week, Max planted the seed:
"Hey, you know what? Let's attempt Le Nordet this weekend."
"With me? Are you fucking crazy?"
"I'll bring my daughter in her trailer. That way, I'll have a handicap, and you won't feel pressured to keep up at my pace."
"Dude... I'd love to, but I really don't think I can physically handle that elevation."
"Whatever! Let's just give it a shot. Worst case, we do part of it, and have a lovely day. Best case, we complete it, and have an epic day."
It took a few conversations to convince me, but eventually, I agreed. In the words of my favorite streamer, Asmongold: "never stop going big dick."
...ahem. Essentially, don't sell yourself short, because you don't know what you'll be missing out on if you do.
As I said, I like to push my limits, so I usually revel in challenges - the crazier, the better - but I was legitimately concerned about Le Nordet. I've cycled longer distances without too much trouble (I think my record is 121 km in a single day), but going uphill kills me; my legs simply need to become stronger. When I set out on a challenge, I only like to do it if there's some kind of a possibility that I can overcome it: I really didn't know if I could do that, here.
Max's major point was that if we failed to complete the entire circuit, we still would still have accomplished *something*, and that's far better than not trying. We'd still be together and enjoy the outdoors. I'd experience something new. I agree with this mentality, and so, we were off we went on Saturday morning.
Well.
We completed it.
The whole goddamn thing. I don't know how.
It's still setting in. It took us 3 hours and 20 minutes of cycling time (not including time spent during a halfway break).
Huge shout out to Max for firstly, once again being a good friend, and pushing me to do something I wouldn't have thought to do without that extra push. Secondly, for being a fucking Spartan cyclist: he did the route WITH THE TRAILER AND HIS CHILD INSIDE OF IT. AND FOOD. AND EXTRA WATER. That's an extra 60-70 pounds of shit. He was slower than me because of this extra resistance BUT STILL DID THE DAMN THING. Other cyclists would literally STARE at him while he passed with the classic "what in the merciful fuck oh my god he's actually doing this circuit with that how the good lord how what the fuck" look of confusion. Several cheered him on and gave him thumbs up, which was awesome.
There is no better feeling that conquering a massively steep, lengthy pitch of road, and then getting to the other side... and being rewarded with a descent so rewarding you're buzzing the whole way down. Similar to a roller coaster. I later found out I blasted down some of these hills going 65-70 km/h (40-43 mph). It was out of this world.
(His daughter loved the excursion if you're wondering - she's such an easygoing, good-natured kid. She started to cry when we told her we were done and there would be no more cycling for the day. Luckily, she stopped when she was reminded we were going to the beach instead.)
We spent a the night at a chalet in the region, which was also lovely.
The next day, I was so pumped by what we had seen and done the previous day that after returning to Montréal, I ended up cycling another 30 km, including going over the Jacques Cartier Bridge.
I think today is going to be a rest day, though. And by rest day, I mean drinking sangria with other wonderful friends. Provided I can convince my legs to transport me there.
Now, photos! That really don't do the justice, but it's the best I can do.
The beginning of the circuit. Hoorah.
This is basically the sort of view/terrain you'd expect to see throughout the circuit.
Max, aka Iron Dad, doing his thing.
A river!
Pitches of this steepness were a motherfucker to climb, but meant you got to blaze down once you reached the top.
The halfway point :)
Coming back, we had to walk this stretch, it was too much for both of us. It allowed us to take in the region, though, which I can't complain.
We briefly dropped by the beach afterwards to jump in the lake, which was THE BEST FEELING EVER.
At the chalet. The "secret" sitting spot. I love this chalet.
