Finally, after completing my bike, tweaking it to perfection, decking it out with accessories, and packing all my traveling gear into it, I set out for my first test-adventure. The destination is my friend Tony’s property in Qualicum Bay, where the Earthship is going to be built. I estimated two days for a ride, although it should be doable in one, but I didn’t want to go crazy on my first trip.
There were a few possible routes to take: Along the highway, where heavy traffic and one particularly steep mountain (the Malahat) pose a formidable challenge. Through the woods, on a recently opened bike-path, taking you even higher than the highway. Taking a short-cut around the Malahat by ferry, before joining the highway again. Or, taking a long-cut across Salt Spring Island, whose beauty the bards sing about. The mountain-forest trail turned out to be closed still, as Ryan found out on his bike-tour a few days previous. The highway was full of constructions, and anyway, I was up for seeing Salt Spring.
Stage One: The Saanich Peninsula
So after saying my good-byes to Ryan and Cordelia I stopped by the bike-shop to say my good-byes there too. It was conveniently on the way. Then I hopped on to the Lochside Cycling Trail and headed North along the Saanich peninsula. It was 11:00 p.m. when I left, and since the ferry leaves every two hours, I was sure to catch the one at 1:00 p.m. It was only about 30 km there, and no major hills. So I made frequent stops to admire the scenery, and take pictures of the beautiful real-estates and the views of Mount Rainier in the distance, over in Washington State.
That estimation, however, did not include losing the trail several times! Seriously, cities of Saanich and North Saanich, it’s nice to have a bike trail, but it wouldn’t hurt putting up better signs. Maybe folks who grew up around here know exactly where the rail-lines used to run, which has been converted into bike paths, but someone who’s riding them for the first time finds himself way too often on the highway. One time I even mastered a hill, being so proud of my fox and my own paddling abilities, only to go back down again. In the end, I ended up having to go as fast as I could to be on the ferry on time. I didn’t even have the chance to visit Sydney Harbor (the small, local one) with its distinct landmark of the sea-shell-shaped theater (just a small open-air stage, but still). So here I a picture I took two years ago.
Going against the wind, and on a steady albeit not too steep incline, may be inconvenient, but I can certainly take it. Having to race against the clock… that’s really not how to make a bike trip fun! Finally, I bought my ticket, and boarded the ferry. As soon as I was on it, the crew lowered the DO NOT PASS sign and started raising the ramp. But as they say, the last one on board is still on board. I drew a deep breath of relief and enjoyed the ride across the water in the sunshine. I needed the break, especially since I’d heard about the hills on Salt Spring.
Stage Two: Salt Spring Island
As soon as the ferry docked on the other side, I could see what awaited me: steep inclines, probably way more than my first impression from the harbor revealed. I let all the cars from the ferry go past, while I assigned Strava to record my ride, and then set out, determined to test both my bike, and my endurance. The former performed remarkably well. The later could use some more training. But what I noticed I’d also need to improve, is my shifting abilities. It’s an acquired skill, needing lots of practice, to pedal in the high gears as long as possible to gain some momentum, then shifting into lower ones without losing it. Also, once the pressure is on, the front derailer doesn’t like to shift down. So timing is essential.
After a medium sized hill came a small one, then a bigger one, followed by a huge one. I was not even sure if I had taken the right road. Not that I was lost, as there were only two possible roads to take. I picked the less traveled, which, however turned out to have more hills. After a while I felt I could not take it any more, so I stopped for a little rest. I picked up my lungs scattered on the ground, and continued on, ever onward. This time I was in no rush at all. I didn’t even care at what time I would get to the other ferry terminal on the other side. I just had to get on top of this next hill, so I could die a happy man. What I was proud of, is that I didn't surrender to walking uphill, not once! Once I had reached the top and regained my senses, I could admire the Island’s beauty, before heading on... to the next hill.
Eventually, I found myself going downhill. I was rushing into the valley at ear-popping speeds, arriving in the town of Ganges utterly exhausted. It is a pretty little place, but I barely noticed. I needed some water… and then some food. I felt famished.
I filled up my water bottle at the sink of the local gas-station, and then I went grocery shopping into the supermarket. When I came out, I saw a group of people handing out cooked food. Food-Not-Bombs! I thought. No, as it turned out, this was a group of friends from the various churches on the Island, calling themselves Friends feeding Friends. Still, the food was delicious, and the stuff I had just bought would be good for dinner.
Stage Three: Looking for the Campgrounds
Since I didn’t manage to turn off Strava, it kept recording the ferry trip as well, but fortunately it’s obvious that I didn’t pedal across the water. Back on Vancouver Island, I didn’t have to ride much further. Chemainus was only an hour or so past Crofton, the town we landed in. Sure, the road would go uphill sometimes, but nothing compared to the ones thrown at me in the afternoon. Eventually I passed the sign welcoming me into Chemainus. Too bad I had to leave it as soon as I entered. According to my map, the campgrounds were somewhere towards the highway, so that’s where I went looking. Some helpful people directed me to the other side of the highway, and in order to get there, I had to ride on its shoulder for a while. Not as bad as I thought. Though the cars would pass by me at a much higher speed, the shoulder was comfortably wide not to be scared. It was an ugly and uneventful ride, but thankfully, not too long. After asking a few more times, I was sent back down the highway, a bit further than where I had entered it. Bummer, but the campground would certainly be there. It was, and it turned out to be an RV park.
The office was abandoned, so I had to self-register, then go and find the site I assigned myself. Not many campers at the moment. I didn’t see any tents, and relatively few RVs. Most sites are unoccupied, which is no problem, whatsoever. I couldn’t find the spot I had picked, but as I’m only staying for a night, I pitched my tent in a comfortable looking spot, not too far from the showers.
The building with the showers and restrooms even has a little balcony, with deck-chairs, and (most importantly) electric outlets. So I can charge my phone, and have power to type this post. The only thing I don’t have is Internet connection. Sure, there is WiFi at the site, but without anyone at the office, I couldn’t sign up for it. Never mind, tomorrow I’m planing on having a coffee (and possibly breakfast) in Chemainus, so I’ll publish it there.
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