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09-28-02, 12:33 AM
I cruised out of Campbell River and stopped after a few miles to fix an oatmeal breakfast. I put a spoon full of some dark chocolate spread I just got and it tasted oh so good. I rode along the coast with the morning traffic and enjoyed the view of the rocky coastline. When I arrived Courtenay, I started looking for the library so I could use the internet. I was told I needed a card, so I decided to look elsewhere. It was pouring rain outside but I quickly took refuge in a café and had a hot coffee while I checked my email. The rain was letting up slightly as I left Courtenay. I pedaled through more agricultural land and eventually neared Fanny Bay, where the Denman Island ferry is. I met a cyclist, Darcy, who was training for Iron man competition. He had passed me on his small road bike just before the ferry turn off and was turning around to ride back to wherever he started. He was nice and we talked a bit about my trip and touring. I caught the ferry over to Denman Island and stopped in at the market to get some water to wash off my gears. The rainwater on the road put pine needles all over my bike and it was starting to affect my shifting. I got a hold of a guy on Denman named Lucho, from Argentina. Erin, who I met in Quadra, gave me his number so I could talk about places to see in Argentina. Lucho said he’d be free over the weekend and that’s when I’d probably get to see Erin, so I decided to head over to Hornby Island for a couple days and then most likely head back to Denman Saturday morning. I stopped at the library in Denman and found an old classic book I remembered from my childhood, “Where the Wild Things Are”. After a bit of reminiscing, I left the library and headed for the other side of the island to catch the ferry to Hornby Island. The sun was shining now as I rode across the Island. I had one tough climb in the beginning but then it pretty much leveled out. I enjoyed the scenery of the coast on the other side of the island. As I neared the ferry terminal, I could see the ferry being loaded up. I just made it before the guy closed the gate. I met a nice older guy named Bobby Lee on the way over. He lives in Juneau, Alaska and recognized my Alaskan flag right away. We talked about each others trips as the ferry crossed over. When I arrived Hornby, I met another friendly guy named Joe. He does concrete sculpting for ponds, fireplaces, and other types of landscaping. We talked about his business and he gave me tips for what to see and how to camp on Hornby. I gave a guy named Chris a call from a nearby payphone. I got Chris’ name and number from an English backpacker I met on my way to Alert Bay named Phillip. Phillip told me he got a ride from Chris who lived on Hornby and said he welcomed other visitors. So I got Chris on the phone who proceeded to give me directions to his place: Go up two miles from the ferry terminal, look for the orange post. It’s the driveway before the red boat.
So I’m off cycling and after 2 miles I see an orange post. I also saw a lady with a dog coming out of the driveway. I asked her if she knew of Chris but she seemed to be new. It turned out she was housesitting. I cycled a bit further and saw a red and white boat but the address numbers didn’t match up and I didn’t see anything that looked like the house Chris had described. I called up Chris from a nearby house and told him I was at the nursery but lost. He said he’d come and find me on the road. So I waited about half an hour and no one stopped. I called Chris back and what do I find out? He lives on Vancouver Island! Miscommunication from the beginning (Phillip) and a little over the phone caused this crazy situation to occur. Coincidentally, there were similar landmarks after two miles from the ferry terminal. So I laughed about it on the phone with Chris and he told me the offer was still open on my way back out from the islands. I thanked Bob and Pat for use of their phone and Pat even offered me a spot in their yard to tent, which was nice. I decided to move on instead to a beach side camp spot at Little Tribune Bay. I stopped to fill up water at a park and there was an advertisement for a dance tonight. On my way to Little Tribune, I stopped at a convenience store near the local co-op grocery and found out there was a live band playing. So I figured I’d check it out after setting up my camp. I found a nice spot on the pebbly beach. It was hard to be stealthy as it was still daylight so I just set up and hoped for the best. I learned there was a resident in the area that likes to tattle on beach tenters. I ate some dinner and did some writing before changing clothes and heading to that dance. On my way out, I met a nice couple in a VW bus, Samantha and Derek from Victoria. We chatted for a bit and then I took off to the party. The band was a guitarist, standing bass, accordion, and sax, and I would describe most of their stuff as improv jazz sounding but there was probably more to it. I’m just not that big into jazz. But I enjoyed the tunes and the atmosphere. There were quite a few characters in the crowd, all of about 40 or so. I chatted with a guy named Amen who told me about his long journey across Canada by canoe. I met another gentleman, Charlie, who is a musician and was a bit more than tipsy throughout our conversations. There was a whole lot of pot smoking, despite the fact there was a big drug raid this afternoon with helicopters and all. I hear these things happen about once a year on islands like Hornby and Cortes. The band’s music picked up in their last two sets and there was some dancing going on. I hung out for about an hour with some of the more hardcore after the band finished playing. Most of that time I observed the crazy rantings of an older guy named Don who managed to almost pick a fight with Amen and then to top it off pulled a knife on a young guy named Jason only to have it taken away in an uncomfortable and dangerous struggle. By then I knew it was my time to call it a night. I said goodbye and headed for the beach on the cool evening. The sky was clear and the moon was full. I was able to cycle to the beach with no headlamp as the moonlight was enough, shining brightly overhead and through the trees. I got back to my nice tent spot and ate some trail mix as I walked out to the low tide. The moonlight brightened up the beach and I could still see a sky full of stars. I looked around for oysters but had no luck so I returned to my bed for a good nights sleep. (61 miles)
Peace
Dave
Pic: A nice view of the Coast Moutain Range leaving Campbell River
So I’m off cycling and after 2 miles I see an orange post. I also saw a lady with a dog coming out of the driveway. I asked her if she knew of Chris but she seemed to be new. It turned out she was housesitting. I cycled a bit further and saw a red and white boat but the address numbers didn’t match up and I didn’t see anything that looked like the house Chris had described. I called up Chris from a nearby house and told him I was at the nursery but lost. He said he’d come and find me on the road. So I waited about half an hour and no one stopped. I called Chris back and what do I find out? He lives on Vancouver Island! Miscommunication from the beginning (Phillip) and a little over the phone caused this crazy situation to occur. Coincidentally, there were similar landmarks after two miles from the ferry terminal. So I laughed about it on the phone with Chris and he told me the offer was still open on my way back out from the islands. I thanked Bob and Pat for use of their phone and Pat even offered me a spot in their yard to tent, which was nice. I decided to move on instead to a beach side camp spot at Little Tribune Bay. I stopped to fill up water at a park and there was an advertisement for a dance tonight. On my way to Little Tribune, I stopped at a convenience store near the local co-op grocery and found out there was a live band playing. So I figured I’d check it out after setting up my camp. I found a nice spot on the pebbly beach. It was hard to be stealthy as it was still daylight so I just set up and hoped for the best. I learned there was a resident in the area that likes to tattle on beach tenters. I ate some dinner and did some writing before changing clothes and heading to that dance. On my way out, I met a nice couple in a VW bus, Samantha and Derek from Victoria. We chatted for a bit and then I took off to the party. The band was a guitarist, standing bass, accordion, and sax, and I would describe most of their stuff as improv jazz sounding but there was probably more to it. I’m just not that big into jazz. But I enjoyed the tunes and the atmosphere. There were quite a few characters in the crowd, all of about 40 or so. I chatted with a guy named Amen who told me about his long journey across Canada by canoe. I met another gentleman, Charlie, who is a musician and was a bit more than tipsy throughout our conversations. There was a whole lot of pot smoking, despite the fact there was a big drug raid this afternoon with helicopters and all. I hear these things happen about once a year on islands like Hornby and Cortes. The band’s music picked up in their last two sets and there was some dancing going on. I hung out for about an hour with some of the more hardcore after the band finished playing. Most of that time I observed the crazy rantings of an older guy named Don who managed to almost pick a fight with Amen and then to top it off pulled a knife on a young guy named Jason only to have it taken away in an uncomfortable and dangerous struggle. By then I knew it was my time to call it a night. I said goodbye and headed for the beach on the cool evening. The sky was clear and the moon was full. I was able to cycle to the beach with no headlamp as the moonlight was enough, shining brightly overhead and through the trees. I got back to my nice tent spot and ate some trail mix as I walked out to the low tide. The moonlight brightened up the beach and I could still see a sky full of stars. I looked around for oysters but had no luck so I returned to my bed for a good nights sleep. (61 miles)
Peace
Dave
Pic: A nice view of the Coast Moutain Range leaving Campbell River