Karl welcomes us @ Vancouver Island
Our vacation from our vacation during our sabbatical came to an end today. We awoke refreshed and recharged and ready to go. Helen made sandwiches while Adam packed the bags; playing his game of Tetris to utilize every inch of precious space. We stopped at Tim Hortons for breakfast and then we’re back in our saddles and on our way to Vancouver island.
We took highway 3, another beautiful Canadian 2-lane highway going through the mountains. As we drove through the twisty roads, we knew we we found mother gem, as each turn had its own speed limit. The speed limit for a turn is like a black diamond for a ski resort or an ABV percentage for a bottle of alcohol; all are invitations disguised as warnings, that welcome the few who are familiar while cautioning the many who are not.
The scenery transitioned from rolling hills peppered with trees to sharp mountains covered in dense evergreen forest. After a couple hours our fun was over and we were back on the congested Trans-Canada Highway. We rode through the outskirts of Vancouver following signs for Harbor Bay Ferry. As we eventually made it to our destination and parked next to the other motorcycles. We had an hour to kill before the ferry launch so we walked over to the nearby town. We found a nice bar on the harbor and ordered a couple beers; content to sit and enjoy the scenery.
After an hour the ferry was ready to board. We walked over to our bikes and made small talk with the other motorcyclists, swapping travel stories and comparing bike specs. The most memorable story:
In Yellowstone, a park ranger warning this guy that it was bison mating season and the sound of his BMW’s boxer-twin engine sounded so similar to the bison mating call that he may attract them. He never found out if the guy was pulling his leg or not, but his wife panicked and screamed “turn off the engine!” when they approach a heard of bison crossing the road.
We then collectively boarded the Ferry and enjoyed our motorcycle privileges—first on and first off!
We left our helmets on the bike and walked up to the sun deck where we talked to a very chatty Vancouver Island resident who said he did 700 miles through the Canadian heat wave making us feel sheepish at our measley 400 miles. We humored him with our American pronunciation of Canadian towns and he gave us a few recommendations for things to do in Vancouver island before offering to take a few couples pics for us:
After a short nap on the sun deck for Adam and long attempted nap for Helen we made it to our destination, “Departure Bay” (a very confusing name when reading a boarding ticket).
As we got off the ferry and made our way to our campsite in the south end of the island, we were impressed with the island’s natural beauty, surprised by the amount of new construction, and comforted by the familiar feel of the island as we ran into an old friend… Similar to San Francisco a thick fog (whom we in SF lovingly call Karl) from the Pacific Ocean hugged the island’s hill tops like a cozy blanket that lets you know you’re home and that you should have worn an extra layer.
We finally made it to our campsite around 9pm with just enough time to set up camp under the last rays of sunlight. This campsite may be our most beautiful yet. All around us are tall skinny firs reaching high into the sky with the hopes that they can collect some water from fog (Bay Area redwoods will collect 50% of their water from the fog—fact courtesy of James Cody). After a quick rehydrated dinner, we snuggled into our sleeping bags eager to see some big trees in the morning!
