Tofino, British Columbia

Thursday, August 8, 2002

Wednesday (the day before)

This will be my final Grand Tour stop for 2002 -- a bonus "out of state" rally point which just happens to also be "out of country." For the second time in my short life I would be visiting our friendly neighbor to the north, Canada.

I began this trip on Wednesday after having slept for 12 hours at home (apparently I needed the some rest from all the fun in California). I made my way up I-5 to Olympia, Washington and then cut over to US-101. The ride along 101, while more scenic than the interstate, took almost as long because of the towns along the way.

The road does offer glimpses of Hood Canal that are quite distracting. Along the way I saw a (closed) fireworks stand called the "Ill-Eagle" which, I thought, was an example of fine punmanship. The towns have quirky names as well: Brinnon, Quilcene, Blyn and, my favorite, Sequim.

Sequim (pronounced squim) always makes me chuckle because the name sounds like one of those words you hear as a child that might be dirty but you don't know why. Sink or Sequim at the 1st annual Sequimapoluza Sequimnastics exhibition! I'm sure there's noting more enjoyable for people who live in these towns than reading my pithy comments. (Sorry folks.. just passing through.)

A few miles later I was in Port Angeles, the place where I would ride aboard a ferry to a new land. After a bit of confusion, I found an attendant at the ferry dock who kindly directed me to the correct entrance for motorcycles and directed me to ride up to the front of the line. Membership has its privileges. I paid my fare and signed a waiver for the shipping line absolving them of any responsibility for damage to the bike and then went back out to commune with the other bikers there gathered.

Despite being first in line, the cars in the adjacent lane were loaded on first. This didn't make any logistical sense to me until I rolled across the threshold. The motorcycles are placed in the narrow parts of the craft near the rear and, since we entered through the stern of the ship, we couldn't be loaded until the cars had been packed in.

Once inside we secured our bikes to the hull and walked upstairs to watch the crossing. The water was calm and, according to the GPS, we moved along at a respectable 16 MPH to the north. The crossing itself took only 90 minutes.

We drove off onto Canadian soil through the starboard side near the front and then got in line for customs inspection. After answering a few questions for the border patrol, I was off to explore Victoria and to find my hotel for the evening.

Just before going to bed, I had taken a moment to review the route for Thursday's checkpoint rendezvous. I had added up all of the miles and discovered, to my horror, that this would be a very long ride -- 600 miles for the round trip. I couldn't understand how, when I had totaled it up before I left, the Canadian portion of the ride came out to 400 miles. Nevertheless, I set my alarm for very early so that I would have sufficient daylight to complete the mission.

Thursday (the day of)

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP went the alarmy... CLANG. CLANG. CLANG went the bell...

It usually takes me a few minutes to remember where I am and then why I am there. It came to me very quickly that I was in Victoria and that I had a boatloads of riding ahead of me. In my half-awake state, I reached for the AAA map, began to unfold it, glanced at the legend, saw something that might be important, read it again and then... kilometers. Canada uses the metric system and the map indicates that all distances in Canada are marked in kilometers. Du -- dumb American! My ride today would indeed be about 400 miles (or 600 kilometers). No need to hurry. I grabbed a few extra winks and then got underway.

Victoria is a beautiful city; very clean and filled with friendly people. I was about to find that the rest of Vancouver Island is the same. My route took me along HWY 1, north out of Victoria, through Nanaimo and then more or less west on Route 4. I would be riding the entire width of the island, although not at its widest point.

I did my best to use the smallish km/h indicators on my speedometer to match up with the posted speeds, but that resulted in my getting passed by others as if I were standing still. So, I basically ignored the speed limit from there on out in favor of matching more or less what the other vehicles were doing.

Route 4 took me through Coombs, Hillers and eventually to Port Alberni, a town at the upper-most point of a deep bay inlet. I am still not certain what that body of water is called, but it leads all the way back out to sea. From there the road moves to the north a bit and near Sproat Lake.

After forty kilometers of what I'll call Rollercoaster Road (it was challenging), I arrived at Long Beach and began to smell the sea. The area north of there has been set aside as a national park with sections set aside for various camping and outdoor sport.

At the end of the road (literally) I found Tofino -- just as the map had said I would. I settled into a seat at the Loft Restaurant, collected a rally stamp and then, eventually, was served a delicious breakfast. I was happy to know that the extra pancake weight would help to better plant the bike's suspension on the trip back to Victoria.

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