Trip Report – Sunshine Coast & Vancouver Island 2006

The plan for this year’s ride was the Cabot Trail in Nova Scotia. Maps were purchased, distances calculated, rooms ready to be arranged when a phone call turned the world topsy-turvy. We ended up in Vancouver with no plan, no itinerary, and one week for riding. We did have our bikes.

Our gear this year managed to fit into four paniers. This included a tent, tarp, sleeping bags, Thermarest matresses, down pillows, camp stove, fuel, espresso maker, repair tools, clothes, extra shoes (Crocs), freeze dried meals, gorp, and cognac – not bad, all in all. My guess is that we have halved our gear from our first bike trip. Two years from now we’ll by cycling in nothing but our skivvies.

The ferry terminal at Horseshoe Bay was our point of departure. Getting there from Vancouver is an experience. There are a number of alternatives. From the corner of Burrard and Georgia streets one can catch busses with bike racks (routes 257 or 250) that go right to the ferry; otherwise one rides either Marine Drive or the Upper Level highway.

Against Mary’s better judgement we chose the Upper Level highway (which is basically the TransCanada highway). On the shoulder of a busy, high speed divided highway we rode next to loud, fast traffic, yielding at the frequent on- and off-ramps amd generally having a miserable time. This may not have been the best way to start a ride. The descent down the final hill to the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal was a relief.

(Airport travellers - see the note at the end for suggestions on gettting to Horseshoe Bay.)

The ferry takes about 45 minutes to cross Howe Sound to Langdale on the Sunshine Coast. Bikes are loaded at the front of the lower car deck where they are leaned against the interior bulwark. No one locked or chained their bikes – there was no appreciable swell on the crossing and theft did not appear to be a concern. It was a beautiful, sunny day to land on the Sunshine Coast. Bikes and foot passengers disembark first. We let the traffic roll off before starting up the first hill of the ride, a 2 km climb at an 8% grade – good for the soul, as a physics professor of mine was wont to say.

The Sunshine Coast boasts the best weather in western B.C. and for us it lived up to its name. That was probably just as well, because the ride itself is not spectacular. The road (highway 101) starts with a shoulder of perhaps 24 inches, which narrows and at times disappears once you are past Sechelt (rhymes with “sea shell”). The grades of the hills are steeper than on larger highways – there were a couple of 9 percenters – and there are no flat sections to speak of. The downhills are frustrating because you cannot build up speed – the gravel from driveways and intersections washes onto the shoulder forcing you to slow down. The prevailing west wind was on our quarter all the way. We are not fast riders, but this was slow even by our standards.

Our first night we stopped at Roberts Creek provincial park – a good site was available and we didn’t want to risk riding further to find a full campground. We found out later that the next park, Porpoise Bay, is better for cyclists – it has a walk-in area and an apparently wonderful setting. For supper we cruised into Sechelt (Davis Bay, actually) to the Ichiban restaurant. From our patio table we watched young kids diving into the bay off the long pier in the setting sun – it was a wonderful setting helped by scrumptious prawn tempura and teryaki chicken.

Next day the shoulders got narrower and the hills got steeper. Breakfast was at Pebbles restaurant in Sechelt (the hostess was very grouchy), lunch at Halfmoon Bay; the afternoon snack was overlooking Pender Harbour, drinking non-alcolohic beer and eating nachos fused to their serving paper.

By the time we reached the ferry at Earl’s Cove the sun was getting low; it was lower still when we rolled in the Saltery Bay campground. Every camp site was taken. One site was empty but marked Reserved. To pitch or not to pitch our tent, that was the question. I know how I would feel if I rolled into a site I had reserved and there was a pitched tent. I remained in the site while Mary rolled off to investigate alternatives. Fifteen minutes later she returned. The campground hostess suggested we tent in the field opposite the RV sanitation station. It was a perfect spot in a meadow of long grass ringed by magnificent trees. The RV station had two convenient hoses for washing and rinsing – not bad for an outdoor rinse. We had a perfect night’s sleep with the tent flaps open, looking at the stars.

Breakfast. Breakfast is always an interesting meal. You need it to get going; it takes time to prepare properly. Mary prefers a light snack followed by a large breakfast later in the morning; I like to chow down and get it over with. In Saltery bay we may have found the perfect compromise. Mary had picked up some Muesli cereal and milk on the ferry the previous night – it was enough to get us started quickly and rolling into Powell River with freshly-rinsed laundry flapping from our panniers.

Unfortunately we had missed the mid-day ferry to Vanvcouver Island and had a few hours to kill. Lunch (always high on the agenda) was at Whooters – it was extremely good, particularly the chocolate mouse dessert. Mary checked out the Powell River boutiques (quite good apparently); I checked out a shaded grassy spot near the beach for a snooze.

The shortened summer evenings almost caught us by the time we got off the ferry at Comox. Forget the details – let’s just say we took the “scenic route” into Courtney and ended up in the Best Western hotel, which was really quite nice – showers and private bathrooms are always welcome. We couldn’t fire up our camp stove in the room so we decided on takeout from the pub downstairs. That country kareoke just pulls the ol’ heart strings when you’re waiting for your club sandwich to come rolling across the counter.

Having breakfast delivered to the room started the day with a bang on the door (five extra minutes would have been appreciated). One of the true pleasures of cycling is forgetting about life’s pressures. Tire pressure is a different matter. I checked it with my new guage – we had been riding on low tires (why do I do that?). The morning sun was on our left as we rolled onto the old 19A highway, the oceanside route. Now this is a beautiful ride for a casual day’s pedalling. It is mostly flat, within sight of the ocean most of the way; the wind is at your back, and the sun is overhead. Somewhere outside Deep Bay we stopped at Tomm’s grocery and deli to pick up some really good deli treats (no picnic table – it was curbside dining). By mid-afternoon we were in Qualicum Beach.

Here our lack of a plan let us down. We had alternatives which don’t need to be explained in detail. Identifying, assessing, evaluating, and discussing them took well over two increasingly frustrated hours. The two private campgrounds in town we checked out were dismal. The Casa Grande motel looked interesting but expensive – we ended up in the Honeymoon suite with a private balcony overlooking the surf.

Food shopping after a day of riding is a dangerous activity. Qualicum Foods (in the village, a couple of kilometers up highway 4 from the tourist information centre) actually has a pretty good deli section. Beef schezuan, chow mein, spring rolls, salad, buns, liverwurst, milk, copenhagens, a pastry, a bottle of wine – there’s nothing like food as a restorative for the spirits. Before eating we went down to the beach and splashed in the ocean, just to say we did it. Returning to our room we saw a deer cross the steep hill behind us. The gas fireplace took some fiddling to start – light the pilot, turn it to “On”, etc. – we tried and retried but it still wouldn’t burn. Finally when we drew the curtains for bed we saw a wall switch labelled “fire”. Oh. That’s all it took – a mere flick of a switch and we could dry our swimsuits.

Our decision was made, we had a plan. The morning was liesurely – deer strolled on the beach at low tide while we had coffee on the balcony. Inland we turned. We pedalled the short distance to Little Qualicum Falls campsite and took a site by the river. En route we passed a cyclist walking in the other direction with his bike on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” “I’m alright but my bike needs some attention.” “Need anything?” “A patch kit.” Here was good luck. I had never had an opportunity to use my patch kit, and now it could be put to use on someone else’s tire. It took less than five minutes to get rolling again.

Our purpose in going to this campsite was to visit Cathedral Grove in Macmillan provincial park. The experience is a bit surreal. To understand this, you must appreciate that highway 4 is an extremely busy highway, mostly with vehicles going to the Pacific Rim Reserve or Tofino (our ultimate destination). So there is a lot of summer tourist traffic with campers and RVs and cars with cartop carriers, as well as buses and very large logging trucks. Believe me, the traffic never stops. Between the Qualicum Falls campground and Cathedral Grove (a distance of only 10 km) there is a stretch around what the locals call Angel Rock where the shoulder disappears – as a cyclist you are literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. There are no options other than to go like hell and hope the passing drivers know how big their vehicles are.

Cathedral Grove is a protected area of old growth forest. The interpretive trails meander for a couple of kilometers on either side of the highway. There is no denying the forest is spectacular – here are tree trunks of the size you see in photos of families trying to link arms around them; “spanish moss” (which is really a lichen and not spanish at all) festoons branchs and wafts in the breeze; giant tree roots twist together in Gourdian knots. It is awe inspiring. But in the background is the constant, pervasive hum of highway traffic. A forest this majestic should have the quiet of mystery and echoes of silence. Its roadside location makes the experience a bit like walking through a cartoon.

Supper was Natural High freeze dried 3-bean chili followed by a walk on the trail by the river. The beans made themselves known – bean number 2, bean number 1, bean number 3 … next time maybe we should try a different meal.

Our food bag was hung in a tree. The parks on the coast do not provide food lockers; bears are not a big prblem (cougars apparently are more of an issue), but we still like to keep our stash away from gnawing critters.

The strategy for riding into Port Alberni was to get up at 5:00 am and be on the road by 6:00 before traffic started. Here’s a useful purpose for a cell phone – it can be set as an alarm clock. It helps though if the cell phone is not on a vibration setting – when Mary woke it was almost 6:00. Packup was fast – no coffee, just muesli and milk for a snack. In the midst of our confusion the lady from the next campsite came over. “I hope I didn’t disturb you last night.” Well, actually, yes we had heard some activity in the night including a car horn. Someone had tried to steal her wallet from her car. She startled the thieves and gave chase in her car. The thieves were at at another campsite. The fellow inside that tent shouted “I’m coming out with an axe!” That was enough to scare them away.

The morning ride to Cathedral Grove was busy despite the early hour, but the Grove itself was deserted. It would be a much better hour to see it than mid-afternoon. From here we started the climb over “the Hump” as locals call it. The climb is really not that bad. It begins with about three kilometers at a modest grade of maybe 3%, and then stiffens to 8% for 5km. That’s actually not a bad climbing grade to my mind – 7% may be better and 9% is definitely taxing, but 8% is close to the perfect grade. I was able to find a comfortable gear combination that allowed me to stand with a steady, smooth rhythm. We had psyched ourselves for something much worse – at the top the thought crossed my mind “Is that all there is?” Once over the Alberni Summit (375 m) the descent into Port Alberni is just one long glide (about 12 km at 6%). (By the way, the road from Cathedral Grove to Port Alberni was resurfaced in 2005 and has an axcellent shoulder all the way – a big improvement from what I read in earlier trip reports).

Breakfast – you always need breakfast. The Batsman restaurant on River Road is right across from the PetroCan station where the Tofino Bus stops. It served an excellent meal, and has good quality chocolate for sale to boot.

The road to Tofino. I advise against riding this road. It is bad for about 10 km out of Port Alberni, it is great for the next 30 km with a fabulous shoulder, and then it is awful until the Ucluelet junction. Think “no shoulder, no ditch, blind corners, heavy traffic in a hurry, 18% grades”. As the driver of the Tofino Bus said, “Anybody who cycles it one way always takes the bus back.” There are patches of construction where the road is being widened. Once competed, this will be a great ride –check back about 2011.

We arrived in Tofino early afternoon and immediately started looking for a bed and breakfast. No room in the inn. Anywhere. Tofino turns away about 2,000 people a day who arrive with no advance reservation. Mary knocked at the door of Meires B&B which did not have a “no vacancy” sign hung out. “Do you have a room?” “For you?” replied Charlie. No, actually, he didn’t, but he did make a call to determine that there was one room left in town (a cabin for $230 per night) and 5 tenting spots. If we couldn’t find anything he suggested we could walk towards the public beach and camp among the trees – it’s against bylaws, but lots of people do it.

We snagged one of the last tenting spots at McKenzie Beach resort for the exhorbitant price of $50 a night. Actually, it was a really nice spot despite being the size of a postage stamp – we were literally 5 paces from the beach and we had a tree to hang our food from.

Tofino itself is west coast gone far west. The setting is gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe it. There are long, sandy beaches, rocky outcrops, misty mornings, warm evenings, lush vegetation – natural attractions abound. The town is a blend of old-style cottages, new houses with exposed beams, paint in shades of purple-blue-gray offset with greens and pinks, cedar shakes, overgrown gardens, funky surf shops, high end native resorts. It also has mega-dollars piling in. It is in the middle of a development feeding frenzy. Hotels are buying up extended beach fronts and erecting as many rooms as possible with ocean views; new high-end housing and condominium construction is everywhere; locals are being priced out of the market. All things must change – Tofino will no longer be one of the lesser trodden “undiscovered” byways for the curious traveller.

We have one note of caution for cyclists. The provincial liquor store closes at 6:00 pm. If you miss it (which we did both evenings) then you are at the mercy of the private, rapaciously-priced liquor outlets.

For supper we chose the Schooner restaurant – it was a good choice. They have a halibut entrée that is excellent – I forget the details, but I recall a stuffing that include a cheese. For wine we chose a Pfaffinheimer tokay pinot gris from Alsace – it took us back to an afternoon in Itterswiller two years ago when we snacked on foie gras in the room of our bed & breakfast. Beautiful. Back at the campsite we strolled the beach in the falling dusk, past the mega-hotels, out to a rocky point where the tide had left seaweed and kelp clinging to the rocks. The surf lolled us to sleep.

(Unfinished, as every ride should be.)

(To get to Horseshoe Bay from Vancouver airport you have to ride over 3 bridges, across the city and through North Vancouver. Here are the alternatives as I know them. From the airport take the road leading to downtown Vancouver. It has an excellent shoulder, goes over the first bridge and deposits you on Granville Avenue, a busy 6-lane thoroughfare with no shoulder. Immediately turn left, following the signs for the Cyprus bike route. The Cyprus bike route takes you through quiet side streets to 2^nd Avenue or thereabouts. Follow the sign for the Burrard Street bridge (turn right, turn left).

Once over the Burrard bridge (the second of three) if you want to take the bus continue directly to Georgia and Burrard and either bus 257 or 250. If you prefer to ride all the way, follow the signs for the Seaside bicycle route when yo come off the bridge. Follow the Seaside route to Stanley Park. At Second Beach you must ride around Stanley Park in an anti-clockwise direction (it’s a very pretty ride).

Very close to the Lion’s Gate bridge (you won’t miss it) you can move from the bike path to the road which gets you onto the bridge. Coming off the Lion’s Gate bridge (the third of three) take a couple of sharp right turns following the bike signs on the pavement for North Vancouver. This leads into the parking lot of a shopping mall - ugh. Coming out of the mall you can either turn left onto Marine Drive which will be very busy for about 5 km, or continue straight up a long hill on Taylor Drive and get to the Upper Level highway.

The total distance from the airport to Horseshoe Bay is about 45 km.)