Pointe-des-Cascades to Montréal   |   Hotel: M Hostel, 1245 Rue Saint-André, Montreal

Last night the temperature hovered around 15 degrees. So while the rain fly was put on (I was expecting rain), the windows and rain fly vestibule stayed open all night for a great sleep. I am awake, up, and out walking by 6:15 through residential neighborhoods perched scenically along the water north of Pointe-des-Cascades. I walk 9 km to a McDonalds where I treat myself to a second breakfast of the morning. I don’t believe this is hiker hunger kicking in yet; I think I’m simply hungrier than usual. I back up photo files and organize daily folders. I’ve been thinking about all of the creative making I want to be doing following the completion of this walk. I will be writing articles to post on Medium; I will be making books with the writing and photos I’ve been making throughout this experience; and I want to learn about broadcast media and the software used so that a limited series podcast can be made from the voice memos I’ve been recording as a component of the audio. In order to be able to do all of this, I have been keeping very meticulous organization over all of the stuff I’ve been capturing to prevent having to look at one mountainous, unorganized mess of files upon completing the walk. So, daily file upkeep (I remind myself every day) is not time taken away from the trail but is rather a crucial use of time in order to foster better future outcomes of making. I download and install Apple iPhone updates. Catch up on Numbers expenses, and input recent daily distance totals. I write in the journal, and later fill up all the water bottles. Washroom, then out to continue walking toward the city by 9:19. I walk over 10 km to 12:00. This brings me to Fritz Park along the water shore. Earlier, I had crossed the bridge from St-Jean Baptiste into Terrasse-Vaudreuil. Here I stop to buy a few pints and another instant noodle package just in case hunger strikes on tomorrow’s walk into the city of Montréal. A road through a quiet birdsong-filled forest—Boul Perrot N—brings me to the second bridge, Pont Galipeault. Moving through Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue, I am officially on Montréal Island. There is a boardwalk along the water, passing restaurants and bar patios in the process of opening for lunch. I then begin to walk Rue Ste-Anne, a road that will blend into a number of names over the course of its lazy hugging of the water’s shoreline. This is a very long way into Montréal, but as this route follows the western shoreline of the St. Lawrence River into the city, it will offer spectacular views of the surrounding landscapes, both natural and built. As I am following it, coming up to 12:00, I find a nice park with picnic tables upon which to cook lunch, enjoy a cold pint, journal down the day, and take some photos. What a lovely area this is—perfect for walking into the incredible city of Montréal! I decide to research hostels in the city. I find one with a good price for the night. I decide to reserve a bed in a dorm room and book it, not wanting to tent in the city. The walk through the town of Dorval and Grove Hill is beautiful: trees, canals, wide sidewalks with restaurant patios spilling out with patrons laughing and drinking wine. I enjoy the walk up to this point very much. It then turns toward the edge of the city, and I suddenly find myself walking through much less scenic spaces. Rue St. Jacques cuts directly through an industrial sector composed of massive concrete structures, many of which are condemned, closed down, awaiting demolition, and covered thick with graffiti. It is a landscape falling apart, fascinating in that odd way upon looking at something ugly that simply cannot be averted. Everything from here to Highways 15 and 20 is otherworldly. I transfer over to  Rue Ste-Catherine Ouest as soon as possible. Here, better scenery, interesting architecture, and street culture greet me, and it is nice to walk through, only it seems to take forever to gain distance toward my hostel. This is desperation walking: wanting to stop to relax and rest but knowing ten kilometres separate me from my destination. I arrive at the hostel sometime around 7:15 pm. I check in, walk up to the dorm room on the second floor, settle in, and enjoy a long hot shower. Pint. I then head outside to track down some food. A very large, very tasty beef shawarma wrap is followed by a 14-piece sushi dinner plate a few doors down the street. Overall, I am feeling good—just a bit sore in the lower back and throughout the legs. My pack has been causing havoc with the skin where it rests on my hips and lower back, causing bruising and tearing. Ah, c’est la vie d’un flânneur! I return to the hostel in time to watch the Florida / Carolina NHL playoff game on my laptop in my bed. The beds in this hostel are built as bunks, and mine is accessed by a ladder. Each bed is surrounded on three sides by walls, the facing side of which includes curtain-style drapes that can be pulled closed to create privacy. I fall asleep quickly, as I am tired, well-fed, and feeling good for a few days of rest in the city!

Today’s distance walked: 58.68 km    |    Total distance walked: 634.83 km