Quebec Cups in Tremblant, Sherbrooke and St-Félicien

The Quebec Cup in Tremblant was pretty rough. Just like in Baie St-Paul, it rained the night before the race and the course was wet in the morning.

The Tremblant village is so cute!

Aisha and Mara crashed into each other during the warm-up and Aisha opted out of the race since she was in pain. Mara had a great start, but crashed on the course and collapsed after crossing the finish line, saying she wasn’t seeing straight. She was seen and patched up by First Aid and was OK once the shock subsided.

Mara just before the finish line. You can see her bloody knee and her unwell expression.

Watching the daddies' race!

Martin (JF's cousin) asking us jokingly if he is first or second (knowing very well he is last!).

Alex encouraging his dad Martin going uphill.

The next day was much better as it began with a soak at the Hotel pool and spa where Isa and Martin were staying, then JF and I went for a ride in the beautiful trails and we came back to the village to watch the Downhill Canada Cup. 

The Quebec Cup in Sherbrooke was exactly a month later and had 2 events. There was a crazy heat wave hitting the south-East of the province and the girls raced in very high and humid temperatures. With a very good prep that included a strict hydration + electrolyte schedule more than 24 hours before the race, they all did great and did not suffer too much from the heat.

Aïsha on the first lap of the Mont Bellevue XCO Quebec Cup in Sherbrooke.

Mara in 3rd place on the first lap.

3rd place finish!!! That's a victory smile!

Chatting with teammates as they cross the finish line.

My mom, her partner and Christophe (my step-sister's son). Christophe is explaining to Aïsha how her clip pedals are just like his ski bindings.

Christiane (my step sister), François and the boys, came to the race! It was such a treat to have them there!

JF was racing on a fat bike since he is waiting on Niner to replace his cracked frame. He still managed to finish in 10th place!

Aisha and Mara at the beginning of the race (turquoise and blue helmet near the front).

Aïsha had a great race on the Sunday XCC event of the Quebec Cup in Sherbrooke, even with the crazy heat.

Mara got bronze on the two events at the Sherbrooke Quebec Cup.

The only picture I have of the St-Félicien Québec Cup (taken by Mathilde) since I had to stay back to work. Mara got 5th place on the XCO and crashed hard on the XCT the next day, but still managed to finish. Aisha had a great race both days and Mathilde did the XCT on Sunday and had a good time too!

Our summer is beating to the drum of mountain bike races. The girls could talk about mountain biking for hours, throwin in names of techniques and teammates I know nothing about, and rolling their eyes when I ask for explanations. Remember when your toddler was into dinosaurs or planes and was driving you bonkers chatting your ear off about everything he knew about it? Well, picture that, times 3, and throw in a good dose of teenager sassiness. I’m kind of glad I have taken a job at the state liquor store (SAQ) and can talk to other people about wines and spirits. It keeps me sane and pays for some of the unending list of mechanical problems that keep coming up...

Our summer is a whirlwind, probably like it should be. The bus is a mess, there are more showers in a day than there used to be in a week not so long ago and the girls are constantly hungry and complain that there is *nothing* to eat when there is literally no more room to stuff food in the bus… They are fire and water, expletives and superlatives from morning to night.

But they still ask me to clean their road rashes and give them a massage before bed. They still come and snuggle with me in the morning sometimes and tuck me into bed at night with the best hugs and I love yous.

I’m not gonna lie, these teenage years are quite the emotional ride. I’m not sure I’ve ever questioned myself as a mom as much as I do now. My years of know-it-all are far gone… I know full well that I’ll mess up and that good enough is the new perfect.

I’m not nostalgic of those little ducklings following me around like the center of their universe... Of course, I sometimes miss those chubby little hands reaching for mine to cross the street or those sparkles in their eyes when I told them a story with puppets...

From the moment you birth your kids, you are not the center of your own universe anymore. That was a pretty rough introduction to adulting for the 25 yo only child that I was. Fast forward 15 years and I think I managed OK, although not always as gracefully as I could have, like most. But when I look at those beautiful strong daughters of ours now, I’m so very proud of them, sassiness and eye rolling included!

A weekend in Baie St-Paul

The girls's start. I was the first time that the 3 of them were racing the same race!

It's no secret that bike races (or any other sporting events for that matter) are not my cup of tea. What's not to love about being woken up on a Saturday morning at 7:15 by “Eye of the Tiger” to spend all day on the sidelines, inhaling dust while cheering people you don't know, thinking: shouldn't she be here already? Who's this again? Look at those legs and ass (OK, I know I'm not the only one, that's the only perk...), while simultaneously having a near heart-attack when they call First Aid on the course during your kids’ race? There's also waiting for the award ceremony that is never on time (except for that one time you were late), being bossed around by an overzealous 15 yo who tells everybody that is 50 yards from the trail that THERE IS A BIKE RACE GOING ON PLEASE STAY AWAY (‘cause you know, I'm standing in the mud with a ridiculously heavy camera NOT KNOWING there is a bike race). What's not to love, indeed? But you know what the crazy part is? I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else when they race by me and I see their eyes light up when they see me cheering for them.

Spotting daddy.

“Hit the jump!”I yell like an overly enthusiastic teenager, camera in hand, as he rides towards us. He gives me a grim look as he rides around it, which brings him close enough that I can see the twigs sticking out of his helmet. “He fell on his head!” Aisha says, worried. Look closely, you'll see his branch "horns".

Lots of love for papa who had two hard crashes during that race.

Ending the day in the village of Baie St-Paul.

Gelato time!

Being twins in the world of competition is not always easy. In the past, the twins either did team races or competed in different categories (in AZ Aïsha raced with the 15-16 yo). But here, it's not an option. The 3 of them are in the same category and if they want to race, they will be racing together (or against one another, depending on how you see it). It was an excruciatingly hard week for Aïsha as she is still struggling with an injury and feels like she is not in race shape… but also wants on the race experience. So, at last, she told Mathilde that she would race if she also signed up for the race. And just like that, we had 3 girls on the course at once! They each chose an achievable goal for that race and reached it! Mathilde knew she would very likely be last and she was, but kept riding with a big smile, encouraging the boys that were lapping her and receiving cheers in return. I believe we all grew from that experience as a family.

Cheering for Maghalie Rochette, their idol!

Mara during the XCT (the second event of the race, the other two didn't race that one).

Tired and proud to be 4th on 21 racers and to have been in the hot seat for a while.

Wearing her team colors for the podium. So proud.

My childhood memories of Baie St-Paul involve lots of not-so-great art galleries and a mosquito apocalypse in that very same Westfalia at this very same campground which led us to leave for a chic restaurant to have dinner without being eaten alive. We were on a return trip from a Gaspe peninsula tour with my dad’s partner of that time. It had already been a tense trip (she didn't care for Bon Jovi and sang off-key to old French songs and it drove me nuts, so I spent a lot of time behind my walkman, lying down on the back bench NOT looking at the landscape that she nagged me to admire). She also loathed me for my bad manners. When we'd watch a movie together, she'd spend more time peeking in my direction than watching the screen to make sure she'd catch me picking my nose and call me on it.

So that night at the Mouton Noir (see, I remember the name of the restaurant 30 years later! That's PTSD!), she threw a scene because I had taken a bite off my bread roll instead of ripping a piece off with my fingers and THEN putting it in my mouth. I was ten. You might have guessed she had no children of her own. It went downhill from there.

I'm glad to report that the Mouton Noir is still in business and that the art galleries are still thriving, as well as the mosquitoes. So long Baie St-Paul, see you in less than 30 years I hope!