Vancouver to Bellingham

Today I pulled into the beautiful agricultural/mountain city of Bellingham, WA at around 1pm.

Yesterday, I left Vancouver at around 5pm (my departure was set back by a beautiful bike ride through Stanley Park and a quick visit to the Granville Market). I was only about 10 minutes into my ride out of Vancouver, in a sketchy part of the city -- East Hastings St. -- when the trailer that I had purchased used the day before suddenly popped out of it's securing skewer, lost balance, and nearly toppled me into traffic. The weight of the unbalanced load horribly bent my trailer skewer, making my bike unridable. Getting it fixed would take time and I was already starting my journey way later than I should have.

I jumped from bike shop to bike shop -- and finally got the thing fixed at about 7pm. I was offered places to stay by the friendly workers in the bike shop, but I had a doctor's appointment in Bellingham the next day at 3 and was determined that I had to continue on, even at this hour, to make it.

In the course of about 2 hours, I biked from Vancouver to a small town of Surrey. And at after 9pm, I needed a place to crash. The map I was using showed parks in the area -- but it didn't specify whether you could camp at any of them. I biked to a few and finding that they were just day parks, I gave up. Camping in a day park wouldn't be so bad, I figured, but crazy people might walk through in the night, so I reasoned that maybe a random suburban lawn might be safer.

And so that's where I ended up. I found a front lawn perfect for the task -- had a small area hidden by a tree, perfect to sleep on. I pulled up my bike, unrolled my sleeping bag and pad, and conked out. I did get spotted in the morning, which was slightly embarrassing :).

Once I was spotted, I figured it was probably about time to get up and out of there, so at 6:30am I took off and headed out to the Washington border.

When I got to the US Border, my trailer popped out of it's hitch and bent my NEW skewer in the same fashion it did the first. I spent an extra hour and the border and eventually bent it back to a usable shape - for repair later.


After about 20 more miles, I got into Bellingham, made it to my Remicade appointment, and then met up with an old high school friend, Leah Bayer. Leah hooked hooked me up with a place to stay, with a cyclist buddy of hers named Jason (who once road from the coast of Washington to Maine!!).

I stepped into Jason's place and was utterly amazed. Giant apple trees, a full garden, large workshop, a trampoline -- the place was something out of a dream.

Vancouver, BC - The Grand Trunk Hostel

I have spent the last 3 nights in Vancouver, BC at a $16/night shanty hostel in Gastown. The place had character, what can I say.

I got here by taking a ferry from Nanaimo (on Vancouver Island) to Vancouver's Horseshoe Bay, three days ago. From Horseshoe Bay, enjoyed a pleasant, 90 minute bike ride alongside a beautiful, windy (read wine-dy) coast that evoked a longing forMalibu's lovely stretch of the PCH I sometimes drove when I lived in SoCal.

I came to the city with a mission: to buy a bicycle trailer (that is a cargo trailer to tow behind my bike). As you may not know (because I don't think I have fully told the story yet) I crashed my bike in a rainforest on Vancouver Island. In the event, I had the unfortune of breaking my front bag rack and the rack-mount eyelets on my carbon-fiber fork -- in other words, there was no way I could continue carrying my stuff with front panniers (saddlebags) any longer. It was either get a trailer, or buy a new (probably ~$500 fork). I chose to look for a trailer.

So the second day in Vancouver, I found and bought a used Bob's Yak Trailer for $200. And to prevent my damaged fork from completely breaking, I applied epoxy glue to the shredded carbon fibers around the broken rack mounts on my fork.

I enjoyed Vancouver very much. One day, lost, I wandered into the New Amsterdam Cafe, and became found. New Amsterdam Cafe is one of three legal spots in Canada where you can smoke freely. And I met some pretty funny (okay maybe slightly sketchy) characters there. At one point, I found myself in the company of four unlikely-grouped individuals: a particular-looking gentleman in a suit sporting a corncob pipe, an Austrailian outbacker, a man who claimed he was "The Hairy Pothead", and okay-- yeah one really sketchy guy. I just had to have a picture taken.

Nanaimo, Vancouver Island, BC - The Cambie Hostel

Today I cycled from Duncan to Nanaimo, about 75 km. It rained hard in the morning on this region of the island, so some of the road was muddy and, being without a front fender, my legs got covered.

Along the way I stopped in Crofton, got some fruit. At the grocery store, I met a little boy on a bike and we chatted a while. I gave him some change to buy water balloons to throw at his teenage sister from his 2nd story window when she comes home from work.

Right upon leaving Crofton, I came up upon a cycle-touring Netherlander couple by the names of At and Clara. They were cycling from Crofton to Ladysmith, a town about 20 km shy of my destination, Nanaimo. So we cycled together for that distance, talked, and even got a drink at a cafe along the way.

When I got into Nanaimo around 6, I got a room at "The Cambie" hostel -- I paid just $20 for a 6-bed dorm room which was empty! I took advantage of this luxury with a nice, long hot bath.

Tomorrow, I will be taking the ferry from Nanaimo to Vancouver -- Yes! finally I will be on the mainland!

Duncan, Vancouver Island, BC - Kristin's House

Today I left camp at Skutz Falls and cycled to the nearest large town, Duncan, to get food and some seriously needed R&R.

As I got up in the morning and began to pack up my things, a truck pulled up to the campsite right beside mine. It was the addict woman whose tent was confiscated the night before. She had abandoned her campsite for seven days, and given such, last night the camp ranger took away her tent and all her camping gear to put in holding. If she hadn't returned today, all the goods would have been thrown away. The reason I dreaded her return was that the camp ranger had actually given me a bag of her food -- and that food was sitting right in front of me on my picnic table. However against policy, the ranger gave me the food in the moral right -- I was nearly dead of dehydration, exhaustion, and starvation when I rolled lifelessly into camp the night before. But today, there would be a different ranger, and if the woman saw her food on my table, I figured things could get messy pretty quickly.

As I suspected, when the woman found all her belongings were gone, she became furious. Seeing that I was wearing a reflective vest, she asked me if I worked there. "Nope, just cycling through."

I immediately had a strong internal urge telling me it was time to get out of there. I packed up my things as fast as I could and peeled out of there, stopping at the camp well to fill up my bottles before I left. As I was pumping water at the well, I saw a ranger pull into camp. I quickly turned to hide behind a nearby tree, and as soon as she passed, I booked it for Duncan. Relief.

The ride to Duncan was on downhill highway nearly the entire way, and was a huge relief to the loose gravel and forested dirt roads I nearly killed myself in the day before.

When I arrived in Duncan, I stopped in the city's Visitor Center and inquired about hostels. There were none. Motels - about $75 a night. Ouch. After sometime of silent thinking and not knowing how I could afford to stay in this town, the representative said "Well...I do have a friend you could probably stay with. She'd be happy to host you". Surprised and relieved (although slightly skeptical), I replied,"Well, yeah. That would actually be excellent".

After meeting the representative, Stephanie, and her friend Kristin at a local pub to gain Kristin's approval, I soon learned that Stephanie is not just a representative at the city Visitor Center, she is in fact, Miss Vancouver Island. In other words, she is like a mini-mini Miss America. After a drink or so, Kristin extended her invitations to host me for the night.

And so I came to stay at Kristin's place. Kristin ended up being possibly the most hospitable person I have ever met to date. She bought and cooked me dinner, coffee, drinks, you name it -- and was always making sure I had everything I needed, from a towel to a pillow.

I met several people through staying at Kristin's. Her roommate, friends that would pass through, etc. Kristin's place was like a little Vagabond Inn. I loved every minute of it -- meeting the new people, and being completely immersed in an actual Duncanite residence, rather than experiencing a detached stay in a cheap motel room.

Skutz Falls Provincial Park, Vancouver Island, BC

Holy shit!!! I almost died today. Today was the most dangerous, crazy, intense, demanding, hellish, scary, regettable, unlucky, shitty, exhausting, I-don't-think-I'm-to-live days I've ever had in my life.

I awoke early in the morning at Goldstream Provincial Park to the ironic, joyous laughter of Trevor's kids playing in the tent nearby. I collapsed the tent, packed the sleeping bag, rolled the sleeping pad, and otherwise packed all my gear on my bicycle. I said a heartfelt goodbye to Trevor, a neighboring camper I had met two days and with whom, I had become a good friend.

At around 11:00am, I departed the beautiful Goldstream Park on southern Vancouver Island. It was going to be a long journey -- I was hoping to make up for an entire day's lost time by traveling close to double the distance my trail book called for, cycling all the way to Crofton by a roundabout scenic tour. On my way out, I stopped by the general store. I bought and ate two bananas and two egg & ham sandwiches, and topped off my two water bottles. I knew I was going to need more food and water along the bike ride, but since the store had no quality dried foods and I was lacking in extra space to store water, I decided that I would pick up provisions along the bike route, as I was sure there would be a few stores and water taps along the way.

The beginning of my ride was a steep, arduous climb up "The Malahat" -- a busy, multi-lane highway that serves as the main truck route to the populated city of Victoria. After stopping about three times to catch my breath and sucking on my water bottle like a worried baby, I finally made it up the 10 km grind to the top. By this time, my water bottles were empty, and the only food I had was a plastic bag of dried lentil peas, deep within one of my rear panniers.

The next part of the ride was a huge relief: I flew down a steep downhill road for about 8 km, spreading my arms out fully to immerse myself in the joy of ultimate freedom --wind blowing in my face, flying at about 45 km/hr, experiencing an intense and long feeling of existential pleasure.

When I got to the bottom, I found myself in a hot valley, on a dirt construction road. After 20 minutes of up and down climbing on loose dirt, I briefly became lost looking for the next turn-off. After another 20 minutes of searching for my turn-off, I hailed one of the few passing trucks and asked for directions to the Cowichan River Valley Trail. He pointed towards some train tracks about 100 meters away, but added, "There's a six-foot cat in there-- somewhere in there...Craps on my porch. I'm dead serious. Pisses me right off."

Ha. I kind of laughed it off. Then I got to the trail: a narrow, loose gravel trail, surrounded on both sides by thick forest, and not a person in sight. And 30 km of this? Wow. What a great place to be ambushed by a cougar. Or to come upon a predatory black bear, of which my travel book warned me about in this area.

I cycled through that trail as fast as I could, figuring that anytime I sat stopped was the time I was most vulnerable. I blazed through this 30 km stretch, often hitting deep loose gravel patches that I had to stop pedaling and just glide my bike through, trying to maintain balance as to avoid getting caught and tipping over.

I exhausted myself, and begged my water bottle to drip relief into my dry mouth, but being completely empty, did not comply. Luckily, Kovinich River Provincial Park was only 10 km ahead, and I knew there would be water there, and if I was lucky, a store with food.

When I got to Kovinich River Park, I was crushed. It was a dry, empty, and deserted campground. There was one tent on the entire premises; scattered newspapers, a broken, tipped-over cooler, and a card that said "These things belong to Chris Pucker: 250-452-0850" were strewn in the parking lot.

I was dying of thirst. I was aching of hunger. I was beat by exhaustion. And this park, 40 km at the bottom of a mountain, was the only hope I had for relief. And yet, there was no turning back. I had to move on.

I looked at my trail book. The next pass was over an old bridge, 2 km up a gravel road, and then 6.4 km through a temporary detour route it cautioned was "challenging for cyclists". After negotiating my bike through the restrictive gate at the bridge (removing and reloading all my panniers in the process), climbing my way up an extremely steep, loose gravel logging road, biking right by a snake basking in the sun, I came to the detour entrance.

The sign at the detour trail entrance said "This is a rough, uneven, single-track hiking trail. Not recommended for cyclists or equestrians." Not recommended? My trail book was FOR cyclists (ones loaded with touring bags at that), and it told me to go through this route! I dismounted my bike, and walked down the trail. Yup. It was rough, extremely uneven, and there was no way even a professional mountain biker could go through this thing.

Crap. I was screwed. To go back at this point would mean a 40 km expedition on a loose gravel road, through a cougar and bear laden forest, and uphill for about two additional hours to a busy highway. To go forward would mean a 6.4 km arduous hike, carrying an 80 lb. bike at my side over rough, uneven dirt trail in the middle of a cougar and bear laden rain forest, without food or water, and probably not seeing a soul until I got to the other side. And then -- traveling up to 30 more km until I got to the next park, that might have water. I chose to go forward.

I hiked my bike through the rough forested terrain for probably two hours, holding a switchblade at my side and my mini airhorn (to scare a bear or cougar if we met). At one point along the trail, I came to a downhill patch that looked actually ridable. I hopped on my bike and went flying downhill. Unbeknown to me, there was a giant branch sticking straight out into the middle of the trail ahead. It caught under the strapping on my front right pannier and brought my bike to a screeching halt, throwing me over the handlebars.

I was hurt. Hobbling on one leg and in the middle of a forest. I hadn't seen a person in hours. I got up, righted the bike, and attempted to continue on. But my bike wouldn't move. Something was jamming the wheels. I found that my front rack and been bent wickedly out of shape in the crash, and was now pinning my front wheel. I took my hands and bent the frame back to shape, and was able to continue on.

I traveled for another several km through the forest, still scared as shit that I would come upon a bear or cougar at any turn. And exhausted, dehydrated, and hungry as ever. At one point, I came to an area of the trail that again I could ride -- and I tried again, only to be thrown over the handlebars another time when the front rack collapsed on it's own accord. I bent the rack back to shape and continued on.

I finally made it out of the forest.

[Sorry -- this is a long ass story. There's more to it -- I just need another day or so to finish it.]

All the Gear

Here's a list of the gear I have brought with me.

Camping Gear:

• Tent, Sleeping Bag, Sleeping Pad, Self-inflating Pillow
• Pots (2), Grill, Lighters, Matches
• Pocket Shower, Water bladders
• Toiletries, Vitamins & Probiotics
• Biodegradable soap, moisturizer
• Microfiber Towel, dry bag
• Knife, Leatherman multi-tool
• Clothesline

Cycling Gear:

• Helmet, lights, cyclocomputer, reflective triangle, reflective vest
• Jerseys (2), cycling shorts (2), cycling shoes, cycling gloves
• Rear panniers (2), Front panniers (2) [bags], handlebar bag
• Repair equipment (Multi-tool, tube, tube repair kit, chain links, chain repair tool, pump, spare spokes)
• Rag, Chammy butter, Shower cap
• Bottles (2), Electrolyte Replacements

Clothes:

• Long sleeve safari shirt, Pair of Pant-Shorts, Rain Jacket
• Underwear (2), Socks (2)
• Gloves

Misc:

• GPS, ipod, cellphone
• Backpack
• Journals, Maps, Map-book

Goldstream Provincial Park, Vancouver Island, BC

Today I biked from the coastal tourist city of Victoria on Vancouver Island's southern coast to Goldstream Provincial Park. It was only a short 30 km bike ride, not more than 2 hours from the Mile 0 point that marks the beginning of the country's esteemed Trans Canada Trail at the southern tip of Victoria.

I pulled into Goldstream Provincial Park as a great place to test my camping gear before I get to more desolate and rogue parts of the countryside, where thorough camping preparation and routine will prove critical to my survival along the journey.

Victoria, BC - The Backpacker's Inn

Today I wished my girlfriend and her family goodbye as they left Victoria to head back home to Santa Cruz. My journey has now begun. I will be spending the next 31 days traveling Canadia by cycle, living off little more than a weak sum of money in my checking account and the relationships and resources I meet along the way.

I checked into The Backpacker's Inn in downtown Victoria. I will need a couple slow nights here to buy maps and make plans for the journey ahead.

Victoria, BC - Paul's Motor Inn

Today I arrived in the beautiful port city of Victoria, on the southern tip of Vancouver Island. I got her by way of a 3-hour ferry ride out of the port of Seattle. Quasi-coincidentally, my girlfriend, Meghan, is here on vacation with her family for the next two days. I will be exploring Victoria and staying with them for the next two nights, before I depart for my month-long trip to explore Canadia by cycle.

Seattle, WA - The Green Tortoise Hostel

Tonight I arrived in Seattle, after a painfully long, 24-hour journey aboard the North Coast Starlight Amtrak. I got off the train, reassembled my bike, and rolled over to The Green Tortoise, an awesome party hostel right down the street from the famous Pike Street Market.

Oakland, CA Amtrak Station

Today my journey began. Today I boarded my 24-hour Amtrak ride from Oakland to Seattle.