Dwagenheim
09-27-02, 11:29 PM
I had a good night, a quiet night, and woke up to the sound of the wind blowing and the cries of ravens that were soaring above the surrounding treetops. I ate the rest of last night’s pasta then headed back to town to get some info on the island. I went to a gift shop and got a couple maps. The lady inside, Ruth, was very nice and we talked for a little while about the island and fisheries. I went to the grocery and picked up some chocolate milk to wash down the cinnamon bun I was about to buy at the bakery across the street. After the sweet snack, I thought about how to begin my day on the island and what to see next. I have a few options; it’s only a matter of choosing now. I chose to ride up to Bere Point, on the other side of the island, but first I wanted to check out the local Abalone farm. I rode over to the Malcolm Island Shellfish Co-op and got a tour from a nice Swedish transplant named Pela. He was kind enough to take time to show me around the aquaculture operation from the spawning of Abalone to the yearlings and 2 yearlings, to the big mommas that spat them out. It was pretty cool getting an up close look at these sea slugs with their remarkable shell and threatened existence in the wild. I talked with another guy, John, who was busy moving larvae around in buckets and other plastic containers. It was truly an educational experience. I thanked Pela for the great tour and moved on towards Bere Point.There was some rough gravel riding, but not too much and after a couple of hills I was on the other side headed towards the beach. I parked the bike and took a walk along the campsites (which by the way have donation fees) and met Martin, who had been on the ferry ride over. He was taking a break from his job in Vancouver as a bike fix up guy for a non-profit used bike shop. I told him to wait up for me, as he was also on a bike, and I’d catch up to him after my walk to Bere Point. I took a stroll down the trailhead of the Beautiful Bay trail and walked along some massive age old trees to my left and a beach to my right. The weather had been cloudy all day and you could tell the rain was coming to Malcolm Island soon. Across the bay you could see the Coast Mountains through the clouds. I walked out on the beach and spotted a camp of what looked to be a photographer. They had some expensive stuff laying about right on the rocky beach. On my way back, I could hear the massive trees creek as their tops were pushed by strong winds from the sea. You really can’t appreciate the amount of natural destruction caused by logging, even after seeing fields of clear cuts, until you see what they must be cutting down. There were trees that must have been over 200 years old. Some pushed down by storms with their massive root system lying on its side, exposed and uprooted. This was a truly majestic place. I met Martin back at the beach at the campground entrance and lent him some tools to patch his tube. We rode back to town and it started to rain. We popped in to the bakery for a coffee and hot bowl of soup. After having a conversation about some environmental issues and the dismal world outlook, including politics, we said goodbye and I pedaled to the library for some email. I learned of a massage therapist in town from the librarian and I quickly got the info to try to get in on some massage as my back was still bothering me. I went down the street and knocked on the door of the new massage place, a converted house, and met Linda. We started and I told her of my ailment. She slapped on the oil and gave me a nice full body rub that hit the spot. We also chatted about the island and her big move out here from Alberta. She did a couple stretches with me to ensure my back problem wasn’t a herniated disc and we determined it was likely a pulled muscle. I left feeling a great deal better everywhere except that spot in my low back. I guess I’d better take it easy for a bit and stretch more too. I rode down to the Sointula Harbor to get some fish and chips from the little trailer food shack called Lish’s, but they were closed. Bummer. I tried to wait out the rain but it kept falling so I rode back to town and settled in at the library after buying a snack from the gas station. I had some good conversation about the island with the librarian and fiddled around on the internet as it got dark. I left around 9pm and had a wet ride back to my campsite. It was nice, however to come back to a dry home. I puffed on half a joint and fixed a cheese sandwich with the rest of the French bread and had a few granolas to finish off my dinner snack. I laid down for some writing and about an hour later managed to wrap up my record of another great day on Malcolm Island. (18 miles)
Peace
Dave
Peace
Dave