BC Tour — Vancouver Island

The rest of the route, all the way to Salt Spring Island was also well defined. Evidently I had carefully researched this segment of my tour. I have no recollection of where I got the information though. Perhaps tourist information that I requested by mail.

The first part didn’t go as planned. Yes, I made it to the Downtown Campground alright. Port McNeill is a nice little town geared to outdoor sports. For example, there were liter cans of stove fuel, the size I needed, right in the grocery store. The first day was warm and sunny. It was the second day (below) when I got off track.

It was not far from Port Hardy to Port McNeill, so I had plenty of time to spend there in the nice weather. The locals recommended that I take the ferry to Alert Bay, a First Peoples town on a small island. The indigenous people there are genuinely friendly. Their art is evidently derived from totem poles, and it is striking.

I went to the cultural center in Alert Bay, but it was closing at noon, as I recall. The caretaker talked with me a few minutes before closing.

Then she took me on a personal tour of interesting points on the island, e.g., totem poles, cemetery, and the Big House (pictured). (I’ve learned on the internet that they enjoy having visitors on their island because it adds novelty to their life.)

Back on the big island (285 miles in length), I talked with a fellow who’s dream was to ride across Canada some day. His friend owned a bike shop in Campbell River. No doubt he got the idea there. He asked lot of questions, and was very interested in my cycling and camping gear.

I also met a cyclist from New Hampshire and a couple from BC. They were all touring. The rainy weather had him frustrated. He planned to put his bicycle on a bus and go somewhere warmer. The couple had gotten off to a great start, but now they were behind schedule, and also discouraged. I don’t know how good their rain gear was, or how good they were at keeping essentials dry. Maybe it was just too much rain. I had all the rain I wanted for a while myself.

The second day the plan went astray. The day started off promising, but it started to rain after I was on the road a while. There is not much traffic on this end of the island, because it is at the end of the only major road. There’s only a small rush hour — 100 cars or so when the ferry lands — and that is in the middle of the night. So didn’t get drenched.

The plan to make it to Sayward fell through though. By the time I made it to Woss Junction it was already 1:30. I saw a sign for a new motel there, but rode on by. Then I got to thinking. I probably would not make it to Sayward before it was too dark. I had not spotted any promising places along this road where I could camp rough, and there was a steady drizzle. After a couple of miles I turned around, and went back to the motel.

The motel was unusual. It consisted of individual cabins scattered around the grounds. Probably fits in better with outdoor activities. Some had not been occupied yet, including the one they put me in. The new bed, new shower and new heater were very appealing. Being out of the rain was priceless.

The first thing I did was lay out my tarp to protect the rug. It’s ordinary purpose was to protect my tent floor from gravel. Then I brought my bike and everything else inside. That was easy, because I had my own entry, and there were only one steps to get in.

The bike needed some work, so I took care of that first. Then I put a few things out to dry, and went over to the main building and ate a hamburger and fries. It was still raining, and likely would tomorrow. I was glad to get things shipshape before starting off again.

Keeping things dry is a big aspect of getting things squared away. Most panniers, including mine, are water-resistant. You know what that means. I used a system of plastic bags to add some waterproofing. I lined the rear panniers with big, tough plastic bags. That’s where my clothes an such went. They were open ended, so I just rolled up the top part. That worked fine most of the time.

I had smaller plastic bags for tools, spare parts, my stove, food, etc. My tent and sleeping bag went in fitted waterproof bags of their own. Things still got damp though. 😀

The next day I decided to make it to Campbell River. It is much easier getting started from a motel room than a campsite where it is raining. And it was raining. The first part of the ride was peaceful, but the traffic began to grow as I neared Campbell River.

There have rednecks in Canada too. Some even have Confederate flags. Three young ones came by in a pickup and harassed me for riding on the street — even though there was gobs of room. Most people have no idea that regulatory codes classify bicycles as vehicles with a few special rules (don’t try to tell them that). Oh well, they went on down the road, and I found a campsite.

If you look closely at my map (you can zoom in), you’ll see that my route does not closely follow the main road from here on. The old highway that I followed is now an alternate route. The Connector (main highway) is very busy from here to Victoria. Much busier than anywhere else on my entire tour.

It was a relief to get away from the din of traffic, and any further encounters with rednecks. The road was narrow, but had a reasonable shoulder most of the way. And there were many interesting points along the way.

It’s 80 miles from Campbell River to Parksville on the alternate route. I pushed on through the rain to arrive at a campground with some big trees. There was a grocery store down the road, and I picked up more supplies, including broccoli and hot-house tomatoes for dinner, and a grapefruit and yogurt for breakfast. I found a picnic table that the trees shielded from the rain, and cooked a nice dinner.

I met another cyclist on the way to Parksville. He started in Argentina, rode over the mountains through the Patagonia region to Chile. From there his route was through the countries on the Pacific coast, and then Central America, Mexico, California, Oregon, and Washington to Vancouver Island. He was on his way to Alaska. He said he had been on the road for two years.

He asked me about the aim of my ride. I told him I had just retired. He said, “Then you don’t need a reason.” Then he said, “I’m retired too. I just look younger than you do.” I’m not sure what he meant. I didn’t say, “I look younger than myself too.” I guessed he looked about 30. I wonder if he was 45 or so.

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zymurphile

Just a country boy trying to make his way in the world. View all posts by zymurphile