The two days that we did the most driving turned out, of course, to be the two worst days for weather. LL was following behind in her car as I navigated the Laurentian mountains. (I think they are actually a small off-shoot range of the Laurentians whose name escapes me – geographers can take me to task later.)
There were points where the visibility was almost nil, and LL must have wondered why we weren’t stopping at the side of the road, but I could see lighter skies ahead, and I was afraid that if I pulled over on the side of a slope and lost momentum, I wouldn’t be able to get the RV chugging back up the steep mountainside. We made it without incident (well, maybe got a teeny bit lost on the last leg of Day One) and I was so glad when we got to a campground where we could leave the RV and Lori could do all the car driving to go sightseeing.
BTW, if you don’t know about le Déluge de 1996 à Saguenay and la Petite Maison Blanche, you really must look it up. Awful & awesome all at once.
Then it was time to drive back down the mountains. Down. You’ve seen those runaway truck lanes on mountain highways? Well, that’s all I think about as I meet 7%, 9%, 12% steep grade signs and head down the hills, downshifting, tow-hauling, and whimpering the whole way down. Only to head up an equally steep slope with a line of 10 – 15 impatient drivers behind me as we struggle up the incline. I was going to buy one of those hand-strengthening clamps to improve my grip, but it turns out white-knuckling it through undulous mountain ranges has the same effect.
Dear God, I miss driving the backroads of Scotland (a sentence I never thought I would say).
Anyhoo, I made it safe and sound and am relaxing along the shore of the St Lawrence River, G&T in hand.