Its been a long time since Dan or I have posted anything, but I just got back from my trip up to British Columbia and of the 500 or so pictures I took, I think about 20 of them aren't just different shades of gray. Everything is still pretty muddled in my head, so hopefully I can post a more coherent write-up in the next week or so, but here are some highlights from a really incredible trip.
Here, The Dude Bus (the name given to us by the dorky shopkeeper at Eastsound Sporting Goods) is leaving Orcas Island on October 26th under fair skies and with all the environmental education staff looking on. This is last time that we'll see the sun for the next 4 weeks.
We paddled north for a few days in decent weather. Here Jake, Kibbee and Andrew are crossing into Plumper Sound after clearing customs in Bedwell Harbor. A hurricane off the north tip of the island has forecasters predicting 50 knot winds in this area. Weather forecasts for greater Vancouver Island are always, always wrong.
We paddled up to Prevost Island, and then decided to make a break for the beautiful sandy beaches at Dionisio Point, just on the eastern side of Porlier Pass. Here we are stopping for our tot break on the north tip of Wallace Island before crossing Trincomali Channel and passing through Porlier Pass.
A beautiful sunset at Dionisio Point was our reward for crossing the straight. From there, we paddled up the eastern side of Gabriola Island, and poached a camp spot on Breakwater Island, whose owners were not home, but, if an island is any indication of the quality of its owners, were surely stellar people.
Sorting food on Breakwater Island. Jake's dad (driedfood@hotmail.com) is surely one of the world's greatest food dehydrators, and throughout the trip we at incredibly well, dining on curried chicken, tons of rehydrated fruit, pizza, and other foods that would have been completely innaccessible for paddlers packing out two weeks of food at a time.
Leaving Breakwater proved to be a bit more difficult than getting there. Here, Andrew, Jake and Kibbee get the boats ready for our first semi-surf launch.
Jake is paddling out like he means it. Most of the challenges on our trip came more from the climate (upper thirties and raining) than from the sea state, though we did have a couple really memorable days of big water. Somehow, I didn't really manage to get the camera out of the case to document them.From Breakwater Island, we bucked some serious current through Gabriola Passage and on up to Nanaimo, BC, our first bit of shore leave on day 7. We landed at Newcastle Island late in the evening, set up camp at record pace, and managed to finish everything in time to catch the boat across to Protection Island, home of theDinghy Dock Pub, surely one of the finest establishments in the world. We stripped off our paddling layers and enjoyed some "jugs" while we looked over the charts. We knew that the water was going to be bigger and the creature comforts farther apart as we moved to the northern part of our trip...
...or not. These sirens called to us from their hot tub outside of Nanaimo the next day and persuaded us to scale a cliff, climb a rickety ladder and get in their hot tub. They were both gymnastics instructors. Seriously. Jake is very happy.
Two days later, we were completely winded in at Qualicum Beach, halfway between Nanaino and Campbell River. The locals who were out surfing (always a good sign) said that this surf beach (basically the only one on the entire east coast) only goes off 5 or 6 times a year. We considered ourself pretty lucky to land at the only surf beach on the entire island on the only day that the surf is actually up. But we had a nice breakfast in town and got a ride from someone named Gartlett in his creepy van.Once we passed through Seymour Narrows, things changed really suddenly. We began hanging our food at night to ward off predators (below). Seymour Narrows also represents the border of two different bio-climactic zones, according to the guidebook. Translation: it got really cold.
Here Andrew and Kibbee demonstrate the first rule of The Dude Bus: we don't paddle on snow days. This picture was taken in Sayward, where we had to take a rest day because I had gotten really sick and couldn't keep myself warm. I also pooped my pants. It was a really fun illness.
However, we had a pretty nice place to stay, and our neighbor Dan let us use his garage to dry gear and cook. We also met some really interested people, among them Tom. Tom owns a kayak company which operates out of Sayward and Telegraph Cove called "Village Island Tours," which specializes in an aboriginal kayaking experience. Tom has lived in the area most of his life, and knew all the great spots to go and the history of pretty much everything, including the Bikush. Bigfoot, to the layman.Most of what Tom told us about the Bikush is secret, but I will tell you this: bigfoot is real, and if you hear wood knocking on wood, turn around and slowly return the way that you came.
Here we are with Tom, his son Hunter, and his dog Land Claims. Tom is THE guy to talk to if you're interested in paddling in the Discovery Islands or northern Vancouver Island, and he's got a webpage at www.villageisland.com. Maybe if you go drinking with him he'll tell you about the bikush as well.
We told Tom that we were planning on paddling up to Telegraph Cove, and that we were hoping that there was a hot tub that might still be open at the resort. Unfortunately, Tom told us that Telegraph Cove, a beautiful summer destination, was "closed up tighter than a nun's cunt"...
...and it was. We camped on the front lawn of the general store and headed out early the next day.
We continued north from Telegraph Cove to Port McNeill, and then on to Port Hardy, our final destination. We arrived in Port Hardy on November 17th, our 23rd day on the water. By time that we arrived, we were all definetely pretty haggard--tired bodies, breaking gear, and, more than anything, just quite tired of being cold. It was strange to arrive at a goal after so many days on the water and come to the realization that Port Hardy, though it occupied some kind of mythic status in our minds, is just a place on the map.
So we had the First-Annual Dude Bus putt-putt golf tournament at our RV park. Here Kibbee, trailing by a few strokes, focuses on the castle obstacle while I look on. Our celebration evening went from putt-putt golf to the Babe's Sports Bar (where Kibbee broke up a fight between the bartender and the only other patron) and eventually to the hot-tub at a local hotel, where we were all unceremoniously thrown out by Jennie, who just could not be convinced that we had rooms at the resort.
End of the line--me, Kibbee, Andrew, and Jake with one of the RV Park dogs. In the end, we paddled 271 miles in 23 days on the water. Suzie and Mikkel picked us up on the 20th of November and we were back in Seattle for Thanksgiving. I realize that I haven't done the trip justice at all, so I will try to post an itinerary and a less scattered trip report at some point. This trip was an amazing experience that I hope I won't have to do again for some time. Kibbee, Jake and Andrew are the best expedition-mates that I could have ever hoped to have, and we saw some of the most beautiful, open country that I have ever seen. Everyone that we met (with one exception--you know who you are Quadra Island) was helpful and interested in our trip, even though they thought we were crazy. All in all, we had a hell of a time.
