Fiddleheads are the tightly coiled frond tips of ferns that emerge from the newly warmed soil in early May. They resemble the head of a violin, or the fiddle peg head. Back in the day they were a welcome fresh food for Vermonters in spring when root cellars had been all but depleted. The tradition lives on because it is still a favorite activity to go walking over hill and dale to hunt for fiddleheads in the woods, ditches, or edges of back yards. You can also find them in the grocery! Many agree they taste like a cross between asparagus and young spinach. I've tasted them and I like them, but it's all in how they are prepared, of course.
Now don't those look inviting?
One Monday morning in early June (their first June in Vermont) Joanna and I were instant messaging. She told me all about participating in a bicycle race up in Montreal the previous day--the Tour de l'Ile. She explained that it means "the tour of the island" because Montreal really is an island, surrounded on all sides by the two rivers that flow past it, one being the St. Lawrence. She described the race's beginning as a "sea of bicycles" and explained how the course meandered around the beautiful city. But the best part was at the end when they got a free bottle of milk for their efforts! Her enthusiasm was contagious. "I want to do that!" I typed out, being more than a little envious. "Next year, I want to do it with you!" I even wanted the bottle of milk at the end.
So the next year I traveled up to Vermont with my bicycle on the roof of my car. I spent a fantastic week with Joanna and
Seth and capped it off by heading north to Montreal with them on the first Sunday in June to take part in the 50K Tour de l'Ile. This is the largest and final event of the week long Montreal Bike Fest. It is very unique; it is not in every city where the streets are closed for a full day so that 30,000+ people of all ages can ride around on their bicycles. And the bikes! It is like a specialty store with every imaginable design of bicycle ever made.The trajectory takes you everywhere around the city, so it is truly a tour. Unfortunately, you can't take your eyes off of the rear tire of the cyclist in front of you, for fear of making one wrong move and creating a 100-bike pileup. I looked up every now and then but wouldn't hazard more than a glance at the historic landmarks sailing by. People pull up lawn chairs on the sidewalks with their morning coffee wearing coats and muffled to their noses because it is still COLD in Montreal. They cheer you on, and hold up signs that read "Courage!" (I can actually decipher that French word.) Families hang out on balconies blasting music for your enjoyment or providing other types of entertainment (like belly dancing). Tour officials dressed like mimes and sporting clown noses yell French at you through megaphones, warning you of an upcoming hazard. Since none
of us understand French, we can only guess at their emphatic instructions, but usually figure it out when we hit a stretch of gravel, or go down a big hill and through a tunnel, or careen around a hairpin curve, or bump over uneven railroad tracks.Every 8 miles or so they have a sponsored rest area with vendors and food and entertainment. And portalets with lines longer than you can see. You could finish the tour in the amount of time it takes you to get through these lines. There is also entertainment at these rest areas--circus-like shows with balancing acts and jugglers.
So we rode until we reached the famous Montreal Olympic (1976) Stadium, with its famous inclined tower popping up and over from the base. But no, we weren't finished yet--up and around the whole stadium for good measure and then we reached the end. I expected big gates with signs announcing that "you are finished". But the only clue that I was actually at the finish line was an old man sitting in a lawn chair wearing a french alpine hat who was wearily waving a black and white checkered flag and apathetically mumbling, "Bravo!" We must have been impinging on his nap time. Or mid-day drink perhaps.
So I completed le Tour de l'Ile de Montreal 2008, my big dream come true. And I went back the following year, and the next year I returned with my son Paul in tow because after all the hubbub from Joanna and me, he wanted to check it out himself.
But unfortunately, 2010 was the year of the big cold rain. Packing up our bikes early that morning, we optimistically did not bring heavy rain gear. On the drive up to Montreal we thoroughly expected the clouds to part and the sun to shine. When we arrived and unloaded the bikes and readied ourselves for the fun, we knew the rain would cease at any time and warmer air would ensue. But it wasn't to be. Courageously (where is that sign when you really need it?) we slogged through the city streets to arrive at the starting line. Completely drenched before it even began, we waited our turn, got our bibs, and then funneled into the stream of cyclists starting off. The sidewalks were empty of merry-makers, the balconies abandoned with closed and shuttered doors. After a mere 8 miles we stopped at the first rest
area and apprised the situation. The tour felt deserted. The balancing acts were performing; but the circus music, normally festive and frolicking, sounded eerily foreboding in the chilly blowing rain and gloomy skies. My feet felt like ice blocks, my hands were numb with cold, Joanna had no raincoat. We thought maybe we could race straight through and be finished in an hour. But I didn't like the sound of rushing along rain-slicked streets. In the end we decided to "abandon". We rode to a convenient mart and took cover and bought hot drinks while Seth chivalrously went for the car.We made fun of ourselves ceaselessly about abandoning the tour. Warm and only slightly damp, we headed for a vegetarian restaurant where Paul knew one of the employees (a band friend he had met in NYC while on tour). All was not lost. After all, we were in Montreal! We were warm, eating deliciously hot food, Paul was happy, and we were still having fun.
On the drive home
, even though we continued to poke fun at our lack of courage, we played a ridiculously hilarious game of 20 questions and had more fun.This is me having fun!
Here is Paul having more fun!
And here is Joanna having fun too! She loves 20 questions! While it was her turn, besides answering "yes" and "no", she also included quite a few "I don't knows". I'm not even sure she knew for certain the full name of the person she was thinking of. I ended up guessing it anyway, at least what the woman was famous for (it was Clara Barton, founder of the American Red Cross.) We all found this so hysterically funny that we didn't mind in the least.
And here is Seth, also having fun! (See? It's still raining!) Looking back on this day, I think we were all so vastly relieved that we didn't have to finish that race in the numbing rain (with the exception probably of Seth) that we were giddy with relief.Today, Le Tour de l'Ile de Montreal 2011 happened without me. Seth and Joanna are now married (Apr. 16) and are planning their summer honeymoon. No time or extra money for Montreal this year. I went on a commemorative ride at home in Kentucky to mark the day, and am looking forward to the Tour in 2012!
