Born in Rimouski (Quebec), March 7, 1953.

My parents gave me my very first compass when I was barely six years old. I didn’t see it at first, because I was holding a pair of shoes. But then I noticed that the heel on one of them moved. And when I turned it, what a surprise! It contained a compass. So it meant I could wander far and wide and use my compass – but not at the same time!

 



Just the gift I’d been hoping for!


My parents.


Even as a child, I was drawn to the forest, the hills and the snow. As a scout and during summer camps, I wanted to get to know them. Out in the St. Lawrence lay Ile St-Barnabé, which I intended as my first adventure. But my father would not allow me to go there by canoe, and certainly not by ski across the ice floes. So I always looked out at the Island and dream...


I spent my teenage years in Saint-Hyacinthe, combining my studies with canoe trips, cycling, hiking and skiing. At age 17, in the Canadian Rockies, I climbed to 3 000 metres.


My summers were devoted to adventure. Canoeing across the most beautiful lakes, paddling down raging rivers, skydiving and scuba diving … my quest for discovery was insatiable.


Many years later, back from Antarctica, I came back to see the St. Lawrence …


A path that takes me to the Rocher Blanc of my childhood …


Across from Île St Barnabé.


The Rimouski wildlife reserve offered me a lofty gift, a 1532 m peak named after me – an honour measured in millions of metres.


A work of art by Roger Langevin at the summit.
 
 

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