Charlevoix, Quebec: Fjords, Belugas, Bear Country, and a Whole Lot of Poutine
This was our second Labor Day weekend in Charlevoix, and the weather decided to give us the exact same moody, rainy Saturday as the year before. At this point, I think it is just part of the tradition.
Charlevoix is a region in Quebec along the St. Lawrence River that does not get nearly enough attention from American travelers, which is a shame and also somewhat convenient for those of us who keep going back. The landscape is dramatic in a way that surprises you even when you have seen it before. Mountains dropping down to the river, small villages tucked into valleys, light that does something different every hour of the day. We have been twice now, and I am already thinking about a third time.
I went with my husband, my mom, and my brother, which is becoming something of a travel tradition for us at this point. My mom was hoping to spot a black bear. The signs at Parc national des Grands-Jardins were very clear that we were in black bear country, helpfully posted in both English and French, and she took this as a personal promise from the park. The bear did not show up. She was disappointed. I was not.
The highlight of the outdoor portion of the trip was hiking La Chouenne Trail, a 4.6-kilometer round trip that climbs to a 730-meter summit with views of the valley and Mont du Gros-Bras that I was not fully prepared for. The elevation gain is 230 meters, dogs are allowed with conditions, and the bears are theoretically around somewhere. The views from the top are genuinely incredible. The humidity on the way up was genuinely out to get me. We also got rained on, which has become something of a theme for this trip, but I cannot complain too much when the landscape looks like that.
I should also mention that I was wearing burnt orange that day because it was the first day of the Texas Longhorns football season. Hook 'em, even in Quebec.
My camera battery died mid-trip, and my charger gave out at the same time, which was a very fun discovery. I ended up dusting off the old backup camera I had thrown in the bag, mostly out of habit, and spent the rest of the trip figuring out how to use it on the fly. Very make it work energy. The photos still came out beautifully, which felt like a small miracle.
After the hike, we drove through the park and watched a storm roll in. Heavy clouds slowly swallowed the mountains, the air got thick and dark, and we made it out of the park just before the rain hit hard. Driving out in that downpour was challenging enough. The thought of still being up in the mountains when it hit was not something I wanted to think about too long.
The whale watching cruise with Croisières AML through the Saguenay-Saint Lawrence Marine Park was one of the best parts of the trip. We spotted belugas, always from a respectful distance because Canada has strict rules about minimum approach distances of 100 meters or more, depending on the species. I did not come back with close-up whale shots, and that is completely fine. Seeing pods of belugas moving through the water in their actual home is not something you need a telephoto lens to appreciate. We also spotted seals sunbathing on the rocks, completely unbothered by us passing through, which felt like the correct attitude.
The fjord portion of the cruise might have been equally magical. Towering cliffs, wide open water, that particular feeling of being very small in a very beautiful place. I recommend just sitting with that feeling for a while.
The food was everything. Poutine every chance we got, seafood that tasted like it had been pulled from the water that morning, meals in small villages that did not rush you. My French is not impressive despite a year of Duolingo, but people were patient and kind, and we made it work. The views of the St. Lawrence from the villages were stunning, especially Saint-Joseph-de-la-Rive tucked between the river and the mountains, and Saint-Irénée, where I watched a sailboat drift by in the sun before the whale watch.
The last evening was golden hour, and I spent it pulling over whenever the light did something worth stopping for. After a couple of days of storms and humidity and bear country and dying camera batteries, that quiet golden hour felt like Charlevoix saying sorry, and also you are welcome.
We will be back. Hopefully, the bear shows up next time. My mom deserves it.
