Vancouver Island was certainly filled with ups and downs. The start of any journey of this nature is always going to be difficult. Your mind and body are adjusting to this new lifestyle, a lifestyle that is guaranteed to challenge you and put you outside your comfort zone. This is why I am here. For I believe that everyone should challenge themselves, I mean really challenge themselves, at least once in their lifetime. This is where we grow, where we find out who and what we really are.
I started my journey with a three day loop that was suggested by Lee, the co-owner of The Jumping Slug bike shop. It would take me around a series of lakes near the town of Port Alberni. The plan, ride a simple yet exciting trail for a few days and then head back to the shop and make any necessary changes to the bike. Reality looked a whole lot different.
Leaving the Somass Motel, I ride off for the first time with the bike fully loaded. I'm riding a Surly Ogre, a sturdy steel frame with no suspension. I wanted something that could go to hell and back. A true warhorse. It'll be carrying everything that I perceive I will need for the next few years of my life. Weighing in at around 150 pounds, the bike weighs just as much as me and when I'm met with the first hill of the journey, my body is screaming for me to reassess. "cmon Sam, do you really need the bluetooth speaker? the fold up chair? all the replacement parts?" Without a single day of training for months and never really spending much time on a bike, my body is exhausted immediately. I'm almost exclusively running on a sizeable dose of ego and an unwillingness to give up. My body will go as far as my mind is willing to take it. I knew it would be hard, but I've never lacked fitness, nor strength. However, my body is not suited to handle this type of stress, especially not for this long. "Each day it will get easier" I keep telling myself
Halfway through the first day, the rain slowly begins turning to snow and things start to get increasingly difficult. Once the logging forest trails begin climbing, things go from bad to worse. Next thing, I'm surrounded by snow and the roads are no more. Forced to push my bike, as both my body nor the bike can handle the steep and snowy trails. I spend the next three consecutive hours pushing up 18% grades, making it to the top of the tallest peak near sunset. Now soaking wet and freezing cold, I make a desperate attempt to find camp out of the snow, but with so much snowfall throughout the day this seems an impossible task. Now with both my head torch and light on, I navigate the snowy trails as best I can, but there's little traction and I would proceed to fall off my bike a total of eight times. Fortunately without injury, but a great deal of frustration. Now dark, I accept defeat and setup camp underneath an overhanging tree, I've been moving now for a total of 10 hours and only covered 35kms for the day.
Once inside the safety of my tent, I'm far too exhausted to cook anything, however I know my body needs something, I've burnt thousands of calories today. After some thought and a "fuck it" mindset, I eat my dinner uncooked, along with some finger food from the safety and warmth of my sleeping bag. Proceeding to pass out from exhaustion for the next 10 hours. This was my first day of the next years of my life.
I've never been one to underestimate Mother Nature and I certainly have seen some of what she's capable of. But, I must admit, when I elected to start this journey in the middle of a North American winter, perhaps I could've stopped and thought about it for a little while longer. Now fully committed, I will have to battle through each day until the sunny days return. Who doesn't love a challenge.
I would complete the three day loop, returning to Port Alberni and the Somass Motel and proceed to make my way northwest, with Point Hardy and the top of the Island in my sights. Now days later and continuing to battle through harsh weather and compounding aches and pains in my body. I'm riding along the Coastal Highway at sunset, 70kms down for the day and Miracle Beach campground around the corner. I'm stopped by a man stood next to his vehicle. Jim a retired outdoor education teacher, waves me down and offers me a place to sleep out of the cold and snow. He mentions that he once travelled all around the world and relied on the kindness of strangers and understood my situation. Now quickly assessing as to whether or not Jim's intentions seem pure or not, I ask a few questions and decide to follow him to his home. After all, it's -10 and I'm being offered a warm and dry place to hang my head, the tent no longer seems all that appealing.
We arrive at Jim's home after a couple of miles and to my delight, there is a newly renovated cabin out the back with my name on it. You bloody beauty! With a bathroom, kitchen, bedroom and even a fireplace, I have everything I need and more. The appreciation I have for mans basic needs grows everyday. The things I maybe once took for granted, now feel a privilege. Jim leaves me to settle in, I immediately kick my feet up next to the fire and begin letting myself thaw out, this is the first opportunity I've had to dry my boots out in days. WHAT. A. TREAT.
With a horrible forecast for this weeks weather, Jim and his wife Lidi suggest that I stay with them for a few days and let the worst of it pass. I however, am looking to keep moving. Taking the night to mull things over, I awake to a new blanket of snow over the farmland. I guess the decision was never really mine. Three days go by in the cabin and I see a potential window to make a dash further north. I'll be racing against another wave of snow and cold, but I'm game, or maybe just foolish. Either way, we're rolling out at first light.
I'm sat in a hostel bedroom in Victoria, showered, well fed and with tickets for tomorrow mornings ferry to Washington State, USA. This wasn't the plan, well at least not this early in the trip. Unfortunately, things don't always go to plan and my time on the Island came to an abrupt end. After leaving the cabin, I was met with a horrible snow blizzard which left a blanket of ankle deep snow over all roads and trails. I was left with little choice but to bail and head back to the highway with hopes of hitchhiking back to Jim and Lidi's farm.
With winter's grasp over the island seeming to tighten, I am met with a harsh reality that Mother Nature doesn't always play ball. I feel this is a pill I will have to swallow more than once on this journey, so best I accept it now. I'd be a fool to continue and realise my only logical choice. I will ride south in an attempt to break free from Winter's chokehold over North America.
Bring on USA