So, pre-breakfast (in retrospect I should've eaten something) a bunch of us piled into the van to be carted to the foot of a peak that wouldn't be out of place in the ranges of Nepal, forced out of the van at gunpoint and whipped up, growling and cursing, the sheer side of this monster. Actually, we clambered out and followed Marty up the reasonable slope for 50 minutes to a magnificent view on a rather cold peaktop. (Hint to self - don't wear cotton when you sweat and then stand in sub-arctic winds!) On the way up I had a chat with Barry, a real up guy with a big personality and a zest for life. His optimistic attitude really got me thinking about how one makes one's own choices in life.
Lovely view, group pics and a brisk walk down later (my 92kgs felt like a tonne being sucked down by gravity and my quads bitched about it silently all the way) we arrived back at the Inn for brekky - thank god, as my stomach was consuming itself! Here's a less-than-awesome pic of the view from Mt Galliano - it got quite grey overhead. My pics didn't do it justice:
Another lovely breakfast later, it was back to the packing of luggage for the preparation of removal to the van thereof. This was the one part of touring that I'm not crazy about - the fact that we stayed two days at Woodstone Inn on Galliano meant we received a one day reprieve from this boring task. Mind you, here's me complaining when it's up to our guides Marty and Ric to actually cart to and stuff all these bags into the van!
Bag packing meant our two overnights and stay at Woodstone Country Inn was over. I enjoyed this place immensely (ignominy of the 'Lavender' room notwithstanding!) - great atmosphere, nice big room, quiet, superbly clean, great grounds, and with excellent staff and superb meals. Highly recommended! Below is a pic of the front (or back?) of this lovely Inn:
Our initial plans for today were a short ride (4km) to the ferry terminal for a trip to our new island North Pender. I recalled this short bike trip well from the previous day - it's the one all downhill on which I wasn't meant to continue past the Inn! Still all the more kms logged.
After the usual hang-around at the terminal, we piled on board the ferry for the (two hour?) trip to our new habitat. On the way had a nice chat with Michael, Steve and Nancy. Michael is a very interesting chap - lives on an island community, is very community and civic minded and active, and appears to have done tons of things in life including wood-carving. Steve and Nancy are a couple, both very intelligent and with a great deal of life experience. Steve looks like an early 50's Paul Newman which I pointed out - from his less than surprised reaction I surmised he'd likely heard this about a million times! It was during this lively conversation (in which as per my usual M.O. I said little and listened lots for fear of making a chump of myself) that it became clear that, on this tour, I was surrounded by interesting, life-experienced and altogether smart people. It made me realise that my own slightly insular personality may deprive me of more such experiences in my life. I reflected on one of my motivations for doing this tour - meeting people via gentle persuasion: it was working and I wasn't looking like a total dick!
Arriving at Pender North, we were given complex instructions about the route to the lunchtime meeting location, pointed toward the road, and told to go! Well, this being a recipe for disaster for me, I resolved to stick closely with people who had route guides! And so off we went.
Some hours later the group arrived at the designated spot by some unknown slice of luck - I swear that the use of route guides mixed in with half a dozen ppl all reading what appeared to be entirely different instructions was far worse than just blundering off in any direction! Amazingly enough, even I, the only person without a guide, managed to be implicated as a cause of the confusion! Bah - route notes, who needs 'em! It's an island - go too far and you hit water!
Actually, whilst there were a few minor dramas we pretty much arrived on schedule in a relatively short space of time. The ride itself around most of North Pinder was great: acceptably undulating terrain, twisty bits including a doozy of a downhill switchback, lovely semi-rural scenery, the lively banter of a cohesive travel group squabbling over where the hell we were and where the hell we were heading etc etc. What cycling's all about! cycling these islands was becoming addictive.
Our lunchtime destination was the charmingly named Thieves Bay. Chief amongst its charms, and a possible reason behind its naming, was the sign declaring that any 'violater' (chilling in itself) parked beyond a certain point was threatened with immediate impound and tow: perhaps a bunch of pirate ghosts emerged dripping from the water and dragged said violater back in with them? See threatening pic below:
The real reason for its name soon became apparent to me: I sauntered with my newly acquired sandwich down to the water's edge to take a pic of some geese bobbing contentedly. Several of these creatures emerged from the water and approached in a friendly manner. The subsequent offering of a small portion of my sandwich to one was gratefully accepted by the beast, upon which its peers decided they wanted to get in on the act. Given that I was quite hungry and felt I had done my bit at solidifying the bond between man and goose I refused further advances. One of the things then advanced at me and proceeded to attempt to re-arrange parts of my groin! Letting out a short squeal (dare I say it) like a girl, I flung the sandwich into the water, upon which the entire flock turned tail after the prize. SO! The bastard creatures had put the sting on me! Freakin' Thieves Bay indeed! I sauntered casually back to the lunch table giving away nothing - no-one had seen my ultimate shame! Nor did they hear of it - until now! Here's a pic of the marauding pack of shyster geese - vicious looking bastards who are far larger than they appear in this pic!:
After regaining my dignity and filling my stomach, I wandered around the Bay and accompanying marina taking what are likely some of the most uninspired and crappy photos extant: not only had the Bay stole my dignity, it had pissed off with my creativity as well! These photos shall not sully this blog - they can however been seen, along with all the other crappy photos of the tour I took, at:
Cycling the Canadian Gulf Islands
Subsequent to lunch, instructions indicated that we proceed to our new accommodation at Poet's Cove via a simple set of directions. Remembering the total chaos of the morning ride, I resolved to head off on my own, committed the simple guide notes to memory and promptly proceeded in an entirely wrong direction! There was a lake where none should be - a lake solid with more bastard geese eyeing me off no less - and some signs naming roads that had no basis in reality for being there. Surely this map was wrong? Of course not! - my innate sense of direction was working and I was completely off course!
So, I made my way back from whence I'd come (luckily I have great visual recognition skills) and soon found a small group of my brethren apparently correctly reading their maps, and tagged on for a lovely rolling-terrain ride (including the crossing of a one-lane bridge linking the North and South Islands and a final great twisty descent) into Poet's Cove.
Wow! - Poet's Cove is a compact five star resort tucked into a superb little bay named Bedwell Harbour, beautifully presented and maintained, with spectacular views across the water. I was loving it. Upon entering my top-floor room I was loving it even more - lovely room with shower and bath, and a huge balcony which surveyed the entire vista! I felt like a King! Here's a pic of my view from my balcony - eat your hearts out!:
Also a pic of a portion of the resort:
Settled into my salts-invigorated bath and proceeded to turn into a prune - man, this was the life! As time advanced and my skin retreated, my phone buzzed, so I extricated myself from this nirvana, had a shower (huh? - I've got no clue either, but I think it's because it was there!) and checked the message. An invitation to dine (this was a feed yourself night) from Harvey and Tina - how lovely! I was really touched - they are such nice people! Man I owed them bigtime - Harvey snagged the bill and payed for me! We were joined by a number of our group and had a wonderful time!
Post meal, of the typical excellent quality for both food and companionship of this tour and having consumed a few excellent beers, I drifted back to my room, parked myself on the balcony and soaked in the view with a cold beer in hand. Well actually, that was the plan but the beer didn't eventuate as I fell asleep on the chair! Obviously my body required some rest, so I piled into bed and it was lights out within seconds.
Tomorrow was our layover day, complete with morning 1 hour massage and afternoon sea-kayaking! Read about what I recall of it, including the onset of domesticity as I do my laundry, the "it-burns-like-the-sun" pre-massage steam cave sauna, the attack of the memory-sapping sea-lettuce consumed mid-kayak trip, the disappearing photos, and oblivion, all in the next installment.
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