1000 kms to Montreal

One thousand kilometers from North to South, from Waskaganish to NDG.

We set out yesterday into the setting sun, fretting about the flurries, anxious about the remoteness of the route. Along the dirt road out of Waskaganish and on the James Bay highway, there are only vast expanses of black spruce, perhaps a few caribou, and the occasional logging truck to notice if you should veer off track.

After hours of counting down kilometer markers along the dark, snow-blown highway, I develop a new affinity for gas stations and supermarkets in small towns with roundabouts.

Further south, I am surprised by the foreignness of the first overpass: cars whiz past above other cars, too many, too busy for intersections. Streetlights and passing lanes are luxuries. We have come so far so fast: The threats darkness, of weather, of wild animals are replaced with reckless drivers switching lanes in rush hour traffic. The fear of isolation is overshadowed by the dangers of densely-packed people.

I’m swallowed by the absurdity of the Ville Marie expressway and for a moment I contemplate the people of Waskaganish for whom this trip must take place in reverse: the packed, frenzied city, pasted so incongruously upon the land, giving way to the comforts of black spruce, ski-doo trails, stars, and bay…

But I am home here among triplexes and all-night bagels and light pollution and tangled highways. I wonder whether I ever had any choice in the matter?

The song Enfant de la ville, by French artist Grand Corps Malade kinda sums up how I’m feeling now.

(lyrics)

Also, sorry for the lack of posts lately! Hope to get some more in now that I’m back!