10th July
What a frustrating day! I slept well and was on the road, in a light drizzle, at 1000. I notice that there is a huge whale skull on the porch by the Motel’s front door…
I have an unexceptional breakfast at a local café, where I meet two local roofers, Ted and Jay. We discuss number of points, like why the one dollar coin is called a ‘Loony’ (because it has a picture of a Loon on the reverse), what the Canadian Olympic Committee (COC) thinks it’s doing – apparently they have put extra-stringent targets for athletes to meet for selection– in most disciplines they have to be in the top 12 in the world before they are considered for selection. Jay thinks it’s daft (as do 2 of their boxers, who are taking the COC to court) – he believes the occasional ‘Eddie the Eagle’ probably increases the audience – I’m inclined to agree.
I get on the bike and start to follow the route I planned last night. I intend to go ‘overland’ to Port Alberni – about 50 miles away in a straight line. First, I visit Port Renfrew Marina…
…which is a shanty town of RVs and trailers, owned by the dozens of fishermen staying here…
…the ‘Attended Service’ gas pump is a self contained unit on a trailer. I go to the office and ask if I can get some fuel – the middle aged attendant looks up from his newspaper without enthusiasm, then turns to serve someone else. Bollocks to that – I don’t need fuel that badly…
I’m soon riding some very rough gravel tracks. It becomes obvious early on that the mapping I bought yesterday doesn’t reflect current condition of the tracks – I decide against riding this one…
The other problem is that the tracks are almost exclusively owned by logging companies. On two occasions, I ride in excess of 20km, only to find something like this…
God knows who ‘Mooyucks’ are
…
The logging companies, who have recently bought vast tracts of woodland in the south of Vancouver Island, keep all the gates locked at the weekends and at night. This has become necessary to counter the actions of ‘Eco-Terrorists’. These chaps will do things like ‘Spike’ trees (driving steel rods into the trunk of a tree to wreck a chainsaw, and, potentially, injure the operator), booby trap trails and drive brand new plant off cliffs, in the name of saving the environment.
Well, the net result for me was to do the best part of 200 miles on rough tracks…
…enjoying some great views…
…without ever getting close to Port Alberni. The weather varied throughout the day – I was often caught in sudden squally rain showers.
In the middle of the afternoon, I manage to hit a rock with my left foot – it must’ve been a stone thrown by the front wheel – it wasn’t anything on the track – but it bloody hurt…
By about 1730, I’d had enough of the wild goose chase - I get to the end of a 30km trail, only to find it peters out to nothing. I turn around and ride back the way I’ve just come, to find…
…this rock. It had not been here when I came through 20 minutes ago – however, the bear sh1t, on the left, had been – I really began to feel that it was time to stop for the day.
An hour and a half later I’m in the town of Duncan, looking for a motel – I’m knackered, and, in a straight line, Port Renfrew is only 36 miles away…
I check into the Southside Inn which, until April this year, was a Days Inn – it’s now run by a father & son and is a little run down, but clean and cheap ($50 Canadian). The father, who’s on duty at the desk when I arrive, doesn’t speak any English, it seems, and has to call his son on the phone. Within a couple of minutes, the son turns up and checks me in – quite what function the father serves at the desk, that couldn’t be duplicated by a bell push, is a mystery to me…
What a frustrating day! I slept well and was on the road, in a light drizzle, at 1000. I notice that there is a huge whale skull on the porch by the Motel’s front door…
I have an unexceptional breakfast at a local café, where I meet two local roofers, Ted and Jay. We discuss number of points, like why the one dollar coin is called a ‘Loony’ (because it has a picture of a Loon on the reverse), what the Canadian Olympic Committee (COC) thinks it’s doing – apparently they have put extra-stringent targets for athletes to meet for selection– in most disciplines they have to be in the top 12 in the world before they are considered for selection. Jay thinks it’s daft (as do 2 of their boxers, who are taking the COC to court) – he believes the occasional ‘Eddie the Eagle’ probably increases the audience – I’m inclined to agree.
I get on the bike and start to follow the route I planned last night. I intend to go ‘overland’ to Port Alberni – about 50 miles away in a straight line. First, I visit Port Renfrew Marina…
…which is a shanty town of RVs and trailers, owned by the dozens of fishermen staying here…
…the ‘Attended Service’ gas pump is a self contained unit on a trailer. I go to the office and ask if I can get some fuel – the middle aged attendant looks up from his newspaper without enthusiasm, then turns to serve someone else. Bollocks to that – I don’t need fuel that badly…
I’m soon riding some very rough gravel tracks. It becomes obvious early on that the mapping I bought yesterday doesn’t reflect current condition of the tracks – I decide against riding this one…
The other problem is that the tracks are almost exclusively owned by logging companies. On two occasions, I ride in excess of 20km, only to find something like this…
God knows who ‘Mooyucks’ are
…The logging companies, who have recently bought vast tracts of woodland in the south of Vancouver Island, keep all the gates locked at the weekends and at night. This has become necessary to counter the actions of ‘Eco-Terrorists’. These chaps will do things like ‘Spike’ trees (driving steel rods into the trunk of a tree to wreck a chainsaw, and, potentially, injure the operator), booby trap trails and drive brand new plant off cliffs, in the name of saving the environment.
Well, the net result for me was to do the best part of 200 miles on rough tracks…
…enjoying some great views…
…without ever getting close to Port Alberni. The weather varied throughout the day – I was often caught in sudden squally rain showers.
In the middle of the afternoon, I manage to hit a rock with my left foot – it must’ve been a stone thrown by the front wheel – it wasn’t anything on the track – but it bloody hurt…
By about 1730, I’d had enough of the wild goose chase - I get to the end of a 30km trail, only to find it peters out to nothing. I turn around and ride back the way I’ve just come, to find…
…this rock. It had not been here when I came through 20 minutes ago – however, the bear sh1t, on the left, had been – I really began to feel that it was time to stop for the day.
An hour and a half later I’m in the town of Duncan, looking for a motel – I’m knackered, and, in a straight line, Port Renfrew is only 36 miles away…
I check into the Southside Inn which, until April this year, was a Days Inn – it’s now run by a father & son and is a little run down, but clean and cheap ($50 Canadian). The father, who’s on duty at the desk when I arrive, doesn’t speak any English, it seems, and has to call his son on the phone. Within a couple of minutes, the son turns up and checks me in – quite what function the father serves at the desk, that couldn’t be duplicated by a bell push, is a mystery to me…
