Bicycle Adventure Begins

There was a huge, slightly battered looking cardboard box waiting for me next to the couch when I returned to the little apartment on Cambie Street. The bicycle had arrived. The sun was shining when I wrestled the box down the stairs and out onto the lawn behind the house, to unpack and assemble the thing. Save for a few scratches, the postal service seemed to have treated the old girl fair and now there were no more obstacles between the road and myself.
After seeing some cyclists being pulled over for riding without wearing a helmet though, I decided to rather buy one of these despised things for myself, to avoid a brush with the law while riding through British Columbia and Washington, until I would get to "free" Oregon and beyond.
Because I hadn't succeeded in reaching the west coast during my hiking tour, I wanted to commence my long ride with a second visit to Vancouver Island, to see more of it before heading south and leaving Canada.

Before departure, Karin and Matt cooked a delicious farewell dinner, a kind of oriental chicken and lentils dish, that somehow reminded me of Morocco(good memories of first travels), and I added a bottle of wine to celebrate the occasion.

Admittedly, it was a take-off with difficulties on that Friday noon. Still in front of my friends' house, while saying good-bye, the kick-stand gave up under the heavy load of the bike and broke off. When I swung myself into the saddle, the bike suddenly transformed into a stubborn mule and went pretty much any direction save for the one I wished to steer in. I swayed across the whole width of the side walk, anxious not to run over pedestrians or smash into a parked vehicle, and took a deep breath of relief when I turned into a quieter, more spacious backstreet.
The bike felt awfully heavy and unbalanced.

There was a good deal of swearing and cursing - which I'm normally not prone to do.
Every little ascent turned into a challenge, I had to walk up and push fairly often. It took hours to get to Horseshoe Bay and the ferry, and I arrived rather late in Nanaimo, on the island. So there I pedaled just out of town to set camp for the night between some bushes next to the highway.

Next day I rearranged the things in my bags, to move more weight towards the front and the bike handled much better thereafter.
Following the highway to Ucluelet and the west coast it took me several days to get there.

The daily average was 60km, the hills and passes causing a lot of slow struggle and frustration. Two days I just sat camping to let rain pass, my mood as grey as the often clouded skies over this northern coast.

At last I got to Ucluelet, a cute little town on the west-coast of the island, maybe a bit touristy around this time of the year. For two days I camped outside town on a quiet stretch of rock and gravel shore, destined and prepared to be sold in parcels for new luxury homes. I had number 3.

The idea of riding back the same road across the island over the whole distance with all its confounded hills didn't appeal to me very much, but an interesting alternative was at hand...

I spend half a day in Ucluelet waiting for the boat to Port Alberni(which would cut it halfway). A gorgeous sunrise turned into a bright and beautiful day, and while waiting near the dock I met and chatted with a parade of interesting characters: There were local fishermen and idlers, also some nice members of a nearby living First Nation.

The boat trip was worth the wait. It was a rather small, seasoned vessel of the Lady Rose Line and there weren't too many passengers on board. From Ucluelet the cruise went through a maze of rocky islets, some bare, some decorated with trees, and later up the scenic, fjord-like inlet to Port Alberni, passing forest mountains showing very little evidence of human interference.
It was around 19.00 h when we arrived in Port Alberni, from where it was a challenging but satisfying ride up a 440m pass and on to Cameron Lake, where I already knew a decent spot for the night.

Cycling felt much easier and smoother now, body and mind slowly getting adjusted to it. I passed by Nanaimo, heading through more level country for Victoria and the ferry to the USA, having decided to focus my energy and resources on my actual destination: the road to South America.

Victoria I reached on what felt like the first real summer day since I had entered Canada. Even the air, the wind didn't feel chilly anymore. The city was buzzing with tourists, German voices to be heard everywhere!
Waiting for the ferry across Juan de Fuca Strait south to the U.S. mainland, I had an interesting conversation with a fast food stand owner, who's offerings I sampled, and who happened to be part-time living in ... Colombia!