R&R Tour 2006

Day 3
My ass hurts. My legs are tired. I did my laundry and walking up the stairs causes the BURN. Five weeks of no exercise and trop de deserts au sucre has caused a pud-effect. And the body-bank is looking for its payment.

It is a "rest day" here at Chez Gilbert and Karen in sunny Port Alberni, BC. It is nice to be back with friends, and there is so much to catch up. Karen is back in her proper 'space' and you can tell that things are starting to work themselves out for her - it is written on her face and in her smile. She is agog with life as she starts her new business at "heartspun wool shop". I am in awe of her success - to find the perfect niche is a treasure few of us discover. Gilbert continues to work and count down his days till retirement and he, too, is in his place as the kids grow and the community fits. While work is often fraught with stupidity, he has the sensibilities and intelligence to be strategically successful vis-a-vis avoid. You go guy!

Gosh the kids are FAB. Tucker is a huge hunk of a guy, all of 17 years of age, sporting the grunge hair which curls out of the back-facing ballcap and full-blown goat (I want a big thick one like Julian on "trailerpark boys")...how he keeps single is a mystery. Well, maybe not such a mystery as he continues to rail aginst his first love who decided to dump him and find another girl... his ego is bruised. I cannot help but laugh, and we all do. He is deep into his guitar and the Marshall stack: Iron Maiden, VanHalen, Pantera, Kiss and all the others from the "classic speed-metal" gendre. He struggles with school - there is the cool-factor at play, but his head is as sensible as ever. "I like to be happy" he says, " there is no need to fight". Ya baby. When he is not messing with the guitar (and sneaking a quick toke here and there) he can be found on the X-box - no internet cruising or chatting here. He is playing with the idea of Art/Dig media for a career. Meanwhile Cassidy runs the household. Here he is, a mini-me twin of his ol-man, with the gumption to out-negotiate and out-play all the adults in the house. He is no sweet-faced kid relying on his good looks, no he out thinks us all. What is that about?

Today I get to go to the kindergarden Tea Party and check out Cassidy's progress in french immersion. whoohoo.

The beginning:
I arrived in Victoria Intl Airport just after 1000 hrs after a brutal 8.5 hrs of flying and a 0400 wakeup. It took me almost an hour-and-a-half to unpack and reconstruck my bike. I had to perform some CPR on the rear wheel as it was slightly out of true (so now i worry about breaking a spoke...did I overtighten them?). So around 1130 I hit the road with no clue where to go.

Did you know that the Vic airport is on the north tip of the Sannich penninsula? A long stinking way from Victoria? I meandered south, then north then south again clueless as to my actual direction...I was looking for a street sign to give me a clue. Finally I went into a gas station and the guy said "dude you are crazy, forget victoria. Here check out the map and take the Pender Harbour ferry and skip the Malahat (mega mountain) and land just shy of Duncan.

Done, so after a country-side tour I found the ferry and was able to rest an hour waiting for the next sailing. Not one to let things truly rest, I made a few more adjustments and proceeded to snap the bolt which locks the seat-post in place. Hour 1, breakdown 1. A little begging got me a new nut and bolt from the ferry toolbox and off I peddled.

It seemed to me endless. I peddled, I rested, and I peddled again, rested again...making excuses to stop and rest my sleeping palms with phone calls and A&W burgers. Since I busted my bike computer, I have no idea my progress and maybe that is a good thing. So pulling out of Nanimo at 1930 hrs, I spied a day-use picknick park and called myslef home for the night. That makes 70-80 km for a half-day's peddle (about 6 hrs of actual saddle time). Je suis content. I spent the evening readjusting the gears...I was having problems with skipping chain and creeking and I noticed that I could not get into the lowest gear. I must have bent something during the pack/ship yet it seems that the gears set-up was proper so now I wonder if the mal-alignment came from the shop that way? Nevertheless with my usual aplomb I amost completely broke the whole set-up, and then recovered nicely on the second try and all is adjusted correctly.

Day two started with a wake-up at 0330 (ie a regular 0730 est) and finally a bail out of the tent at 0600. Following a bfst of raw oatmeal (sans cuisiner) and a grapefruit the size of my head, I packed and moved out. It was 14 degrees, but sunny and I rolled nicely along the TCH northward. The traffic continued to pick up and it became more and more scary and the noise became brutal. I rolled into Cathedral grove (or what is left of it) around 1100 hrs and then began the long grunt over "the hump". I should say that the four Landjagger I snacked on earlier were a bit too much for the climb - why can't i eat just one and save the others for later? 9 km later came the down slide and the sweat quickly dried and my eyes watered and I rolled into Port Alberni at noon-10. That is an estimated 80 km (if the roadsigns are correct) in under 6 hrs. How is that possible? It sure seemed I spent more time at walking speed than actually biking speed. But there it is.

I was able to hook up with Karen at her shop and while away the afternoon yakking and slurping moca-chip ice cream (i am no longer worried about empty calories ;)) waiting for the kids and Gilbert to finish their day of work. Pizza (bien sur!), way too many beer and a few glasses of some nice 200 buck XO Cognac and fine Glenrothes Scotch finished the night around 0200 hrs. Man I am suffering today, tired, jetlagged, and achy-kneed. And a bit dehydrated.

Only 6000 km to go...and already I was thinking about motorcycles....

Peace and Love
C