I hate French verbs. At least I used to, thanks in large part to my grade 9 French teacher, Madame Nugent, who insisted we conjugate verbs every day. Je suis, tu es, il blah, blah, blah. Even singing Madame's favourite Edith Piaf songs was better than conjugating verbs.
Then I visited southwestern Quebec, and those bothersome verbs came alive. With mon mari and deux fils, 14 and 16 years old, I explored the Outaouais region from its eastern edge at Montebello, 124 kilometres west of Montreal, to Ottawa. Along the way I gained an appreciation for these five fine French verbs.
Observer les animaux
sauvages (Wildlife viewing)
In Parc Omega, my family and I learn firsthand that wapitis, a.k.a. elk, have spectacularly foul breath, wild boars love carrots, and bison own any road they choose to saunter across. And we learn all this from the comfort of our car.
Because at this 1,500-acre park four kilometres north of Montebello, visitors drive through forest and prairie landscapes where fallow and white-tailed deer, beavers, bison, porcupines, moose and other animals roam mostly free. So acclimatized are the animals to vehicles, they either ignore us or stick their noses in our half-open windows in hopes of being fed carrots (available for $2 a bag at the Park House). Animals higher on the food chain (think black bears, coyotes, Arctic wolves) are kept in large enclosures for safe viewing.
Highlights of our visit include wapitis sliming our windows in pursuit of carrots, snuffling, squealing baby boars foraging by the roadside, a busy beaver dragging branches to his lodge, and - at one of the designated safe walking zones - timber wolves visible from an elevated wooden walkway. Merveilleux!
Faire du kayak rivière
(River kayaking)
Hanging upside down under my flipped kayak, I am calm. With eyes squeezed shut, I feel my way to the tab on the black neoprene skirt that holds my lower half inside the kayak. I yank the tab to release the skirt, give a mighty push, and break the surface of the water with my helmeted head.
My sons give a cheer from their kayaks. "That was a good wet exit," says Roch Parent, owner of the Aquaventure Petite-Nation kayaking school in St-André-Avellin and instructor for our two-hour introductory lesson. "Please do it again." And so I happily drain my kayak and prepare to dunk once more. Who knew getting wet could be so much fun?
Well, Parent did. And that's why this soft-spoken high school teacher established his home and whitewater kayaking school on the banks of the Petite-Nation River. The location is ideal, with a small bay offering calm water for practice and frothy rapids just beyond.
In two hours, we perfect our wet exits, practise paddling in straight lines (harder than you think) and learn a couple of whitewater techniques. In the end, we realize we've barely got our feet wet - so to speak - and vow to return for Parent's two-day weekend course.
Conduite hors-route
(Driving off-road)
Imagine being handed the keys to a Land Rover LR3 and told to go play outside. That's the rush awaiting you at the Land Rover Experience Driving School.
The fun takes place north of Montebello in a vast wilderness of forests, lakes and isolated cabins belonging to the Fairmont Kenauk. During our two-hour lesson, my husband and I take turns navigating a gnarly, muddy, rock-filled obstacle course. Instructor Catherine Lemieux teaches us to not hook our thumbs around the wheel (thus avoiding nasty sprains), to believe in the vehicle's capabilities (such as the automatic braking in hill descent mode) and to not rush into obstacles (and potentially hurt our $60,000 toy).
Lemieux stresses the correct approach to off-roading: "As slow as possible, as fast as necessary." Sounds like a good strategy for vacations, too.
Faire de la bicyclette
(Bicycling)
