Photographs and memories in the Okanagan Valley

CANMORE, AB -- Mindy’s coming today!

In nearly 21 years, we’ve never been apart this long, nearly 21 days! Never mind breakdowns, uncaring dealerships or even the two days of near-freezing rain high in the Rocky Mountains that I had to drive through to get here. In a matter of hours, the love of my life will soon be here.

Which is why I’m up at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. (well, ungodly for me anymore), writing this and doing laundry, getting all the chores out of the way.

The bike is completely unpacked. I’m sorting out what I no longer need or never needed in the first place. I’m keeping all the cool weather gear. If I don’t need it now that I’m just about through the Rockies, I’m sure I will when I get to the Maritimes and Newfoundland in late August. But I have some souvenirs and some B.C. and Alberta guide books I won’t be needing in the foreseeable future.

I’d also like to ship this head cold to somewhere, anywhere, other than here. Achhoo! 

Coming over the Coquihalla Summit at 2C in a driving rain, no pun intended, was not my best idea. But three unexpected down days waiting for repairs in Vancouver necessitated some hard charging, weather be damned, if I wanted to see Mindy before September. And I did!

I almost blew off my planned overnight stay in Kelowna. But I really wanted to catch up with some former colleagues, especially Gary Nylander, a talented photographer now working for the Kelowna Courier these past 30 years since we last worked together as youngsters, really, in Brampton. Gary has photographic proof that we were young and foolish in those days.

Over breakfast at IHOP, we shared some old war stories, talked about our

houses, our newspaper jobs, folks we know or knew, the usual. But mostly we talked about Gary’s stunning large format black-and-white photographs, which are miles away from the mundane subject matter of day-to-day photo-journalism.

Not to say that that isn’t artistic in its own right. Gary has taken several photos chosen as Canadian Press picture-of-the-month winners and won CP’s News Photo of the Year award in 2003 for his work covering the devastating Okanagan forest fires that year.

I especially like Gary’s shots of old machine shops, driftwood, wooden railway trestles and boatyards. He  took some really nice shots at the Cowichan boatyard, where Mindy's Uncle Syd and Aunt Elaine had a cafe many years ago.

His work has been the subject of gallery exhibitions from Victoria to Boston, including the Fogg Museum of Art at Harvard University! Not too shabby for a kid from Langford! Please look up Gary’s work at his website, http://www.garynylander.com/

As we bid goodbye, the rain lifted briefly and I took that as my cue to blow town. I wasn’t able to meet up with my friend Portia, a former colleague now a painter and writer in Kelowna. Oh well, next time!

I got out as far as Clearwater on BC Hwy. 97, which runs along the shore of Lake Okanagan. You can still see the bald patches where the burned trees have yet to grow back a decade or more later.

Some stunning views out over the lake caught my eye and I stopped to take a few pix, bearing in mind I’ve never been a great photo-snapper. (Which perhaps explains why I did't get a shot of Gary and had ro appropriate his Facebook pic!) 

Gary was just one of several shooters who covered up my liabilities in that regard over nearly 25 years as a reporter. Thanks, folks; you know who you are!

One thing I did notice at one scenic lookout near Vernon, B.C., was that there was a better shot behind me and it‘s worth taking a 360-degree look at the landscape!! Don’t just accept that the “best” view is in front of you. A lot of this trip is about looking back! Deep, eh?

The rain began lashing down again outside Enderby. Or is that Enderby Outside? And by the time I made Sicamous, I had a full body shiver going that even the new Scott suit and my heated seat couldn’t conquer.

A bowl of scratch-made onion soup at Moose Mulligans on the waterfront did the trick. As I watched the rain pattern the water of Eagle River and the empty boat slips in the marina, I was questioning why I was out this early in the season. Way too soon for the Okanagan Valley's renowned fruit crops to be ready. 

The travel trailers, boats and rented RVs are just beginning to clog the mountain roads and byways. I think I’m lucky to be headed out of the Rockies and into the long, straight stretches of the Canadian Prairies before the trickle becomes a mad rush, slowing progress to a crawl. That won’t likely happen until I hit Ontario a couple of weeks from now.

From Sicamous, I hauled tail through intermittent showers into Revelstoke, a town I’d first heard of on a live recording by Canadian folksinger Murray McLauchlan, who worked in a lumber camp nearby, peeling bark off logs with a high-pressure water hose! I’m sure it has other charms, but that’s what it means to me.

The lodge at Three Valley Gap appears to float on the water of Three Valley Lake. Not for the first time on this ride, I made a U-turn to back and take a photo. One of my better ones, eh, Gary? Could have used a longer lens, perhaps.

I decided to keep moving on the twisting, winding highway as it followed the Kicking Horse River into Golden. Mindy and I went river-rafting here on our honeymoon in 1996. Exhilarating, but the water's only 3C in high summer!!

In Golden, I met Rod and Christy who were returning to Fairbanks, Alaska from their winter home in New Mexico. Rod showed me a nifty tire repair system he carries with him after his Harley Road King developed a flat outside Whitehorse at the start of a Canadian three-day long weekend. He was forced to limp on nearly 1,000 kilometers, stopping every 120 clicks or so to pump air into his front tire!!

It was either that or spend three days waiting for the tire shop to open. I guess you have to be resilient to live up there. Nice folks.

The last 165 kilometers into Canmore winds its way through Yoho National Park and into Banff National Park. It was finally dry again as I hit the resort villages of Lake Louise and Banff along the Bow Valley Parkway. As its name suggests, it hugs the banks of the Bow River and is jsut as twisty and winding as its namesake.

Got a few friends here who live and work year-round in this idyllic setting. Some came out after hiugh school in Cobourg and never went back. Looking around, it's not hard to wonder why.

Must ask them if it ever gets boring, being constantly surrounded by such natural beauty of the forests and awe-inspiring mountains. But that will have to wait. Mindy’s due shortly and I have to go move wash into the dryer!

Hey, one more thing. Please consider a donation to the Ride for Sight. It’s easy, just go here and follow the bouncing ball.

The Lone Rider rides again

GOLDEN,B.C. -- I‘m back in the saddle, back on the road and back to rolling east. Not even temperatures that dropped as low as 2 Celcius in a driving rain coming over the Coquihalla Summit on B.C. Hwy 5 -- the Highway Thru Hell -- could dampen my spirits as I bid a fond farewell to Vancouver.

I will admit the breakdown last Friday somewhere in the BMW’s rear end had me what Dave Alvin and The Blasters called "killing time in the blue shadows!" Especially when I had to have the Bike-a-Lounger towed to Vancouver, then wait until Tuesday for Vancouver BMW Ducati to open.

I went over to East Vancouver using the city's friendly and efficient TransLink buses and Skytrain on Tuesday morning and did all but beg them to move up a Friday afternoon service slot they had previously promised.

As low as I felt as I bided my time exploring Vancouver‘s waterfont and historic Gastown district, words fail me to express my joy when Daniel, the service guy  from Van BMW called to say they were already working on it and I’d be back on the road before dark on Wednesday!!

I was having a celebratory drink with Kami, a good friend from her days at my local -- The Metro in Edmonton -- when Daniel rang again with the astonishing news the bike was readyII Just six hours after I'd pleaded with them just to diagnose the problem!!

A rebuilt final drive and a new rear brake rotor -- which had come loose at the buttons(?) if that makes any sense to you wrenchers out there -- later and suddenly the clouds parted and the sun was shinin g and tgher eas joy in Mudville once again.

I had dinner with Kristen, a former government colleague and talented graphic deisgner and her husband Matt, a lawyer with a silk stocking firm downtown. I’m not sure I made much sense over dinner and drinks at The Irish Heather, a pub Mindy and I first visited on our honeymoon in 1996.

I was so astonished at the successful and way-ahead-of-schedule resolution of the Beemer’s problems, I was in La La Land --, even more than usual. Just look at that dopey grin!! Who's a happy boy!

And I won't forget the tip Matt gave me on managing the power of my iPhone battery. Thank you!

After spending a couple of nights in a downtown hotel, it was good to visit with Diana, who was Mindy’s flatmate in Ottawa when we met in 1993. I was so excited, I talked myself hoarse and spent a restless night at Diana's condo.

By 9 a.m., was In a cab to the bike shop. By 10:15, I was rolling once again albeit with a sizeable portion of my maintenance budget already gone!

I can’t thank Vancouver BMW Ducati enough. Whether it was my bitching on Facebook, the intervention of BMW’s corporate office, the surprise intervention by the most unlikeliest of my friends or just common decency and what I call the brotherhood of the road, Van BMW came through for me big time! I'm going with common decency!

I got as far as Port Coquitlam south of Vancouver when it began to rain -- a real Wet Coast downpour. Luckily, I had my new Scott riding suit -- waterproof, windproof and warm.

Thanks to the K1200LT's heated seat and handgrips, I was reasonably comfortable. At least for the first couple of hours. By the time I got to Hope, B.C., the temperature was barely 7C and I think I was getting a little hypothermic!

There were two or three other bikers in the café where I had a long and very restorative lunch of soup, sandwich and a coffee. One had just come down the Coquihalla -- lots of snow but it was melting as soon as it hit the road, he said.

I resolved to take the more southerly Hwy. 3 or the Crowsnest Pass Highway. Allison Pass blocked by snow, said a shivering rider who had barely made it through before it became completely socked in.

The three days lost in Vancouver had eaten any leeway in my schedule. The only time I will be able to see Mindy before late August or early September is this weekend. We have planned for months to meet In Canmore, a cool little Rocky Mountain resort town just outside Banff National Park. I’d have been really bummed if we had not been able to meet up before I head east of Alberta.

So, I chose The Coke, as the locals call it. I headed for Merritt, where I had originally planned to spend a night -- only a night three days earlier. As I climbed to the Coquihalla Summit, the bike’s digital thermometer hit 2C! I kept praying all the way into Merritt that it wouldn’t get slushy. Prayers thankfully answered.

I made it to Kelowna after a 127-kilometer ride through yet more rain, over the Pennask Summit, which is even higher the highest point on The Coke! I was terrified I was going to see the temperature readout go into negative territory!

In all, I put nearly 450 cold, wet, but worry-free clicks on the new rear drive!

I made it to the Super 8, made a beeline for the hot tub and was still shaking when I ordered a pizza and called it a night afer setting up a breakfast meeting with Gary, a photographer and artist I used to work with at the late great Brampton Times.

More on that and today’s ride tomorrow. I have to call Mindy and let her know our weekend away is back on!

Broke down and blue in B.C.

VANCOUVER -- I'm feeling a little conflicted this morning. It is, as Dickens wrote, the worst and the best of times.

I was happily heading south through the rich farmlands of the Lower Mainland on BC Hwy. 99 to visit with my old friend and former boss Mark and his wife Kris. Both are accomplished motorcycle riders with a matched set of BMW RTs neatly stowed (military-style!) in the garage of the comfortable home they share with a pair of chows named Concord and Chimera.

I was just a few minutes out when I started feeling an odd vibration take over from Stompin’ Tom’s Second Narrows Bridge on the iPod for my attention. I pulled over and checked the new Metzlers. Nope, not a flat. That about exhausted my technical ability.

I kept on going with the vibe rising and falling in synch with my speed, but I knew the Bike-a-Lounger wasn’t happy.

On Saturday, Mark and I rode over to Pacific Motorsports, which claims to be B.C.'s leading European motorcycle specialists in nearby Richmond, where he and Kris get their bikes serviced. “No way,” said the service tech, “we’re slammed!“ He wouldn’t even test ride the bike to diagnose what might be the matter. Guess if he figured out what the problem was, he might have had to fix it.

Mark and I rode back to his house. I was a little concerned, not knowing if I was ,going to get tossed off if the wheel seized or if I was doing more damage to my sole form of transport for the next four months. Turns out, I was. The wheel wouldn't turn without considerable force when I got it on the main stand back at Mark‘s.

I called Pacific back and they said the soonest they could look at it was JUNE 21!! Nearly a full month away! Mark and Kris exhausted their contacts calling around on my behalf.

Vancouver BMW-Ducati said they would look at it on Friday, five days from now, but wouldn't guarantee they would be able to fix it any time soon. Nevertheless, I had it hauled up from White Rock on the back of a flatbed truck. At least I knew I could count on the CAA.

I've been riding all my life. This is the first time a bike shop didn't give priority to someone who comes in off the road. They didn’t even have to come get it; it was right in their yard!

I’m shocked that they would blow me off like that this. What if I hadn’t had the kindness of my friends to fall back on? What if I’d been hooped in the middle of nowhere?

I know I would happily give up a scheduled appointment -- even the first one of the year -- if some poor sod broke down. I know I'm not a regular Pacific customer, but Mark and Kris are!!

If it's not a BMW corporate policy to give service priority to stranded bikers, it should be.

Feeling abandoned as well as angry, I posted my plight on the BMW Motorcycle Owner's Association’s Facebook page. That prompted an outpouring of support, suggestions and offers of assistance.

One guy even asked me to pull the final drive out of the bike and shiop it to hiom in Pennsylvania and he’d fix it in 24 hours and ship it back to me. I might have done if I had been certain of the problem, but thanks to an uncaring service tech, I just didn’t know!! But thanks, Tom.

Some misguided Facebook posters thought I was dissing their beloved brand and nothing could be further from the truth. I bought the Beemer for its comfort and power, yes, but also because of its good reputation for safety and dependability.

I love the K and I will be thrilled to ride it again -- whenever that is. My beef is with the lack of priority a BMW dealership gave to a rider broken down in mid-ride. Shame on them!

But -- and this is the best of times part --  if the experience has taught me anything, it is that Beemer owners are a compassionate lot! Thank you all for your efforts to get a complete stranger back on the road!

Just look what mark sent me to bouy my sririts this morning! Thanks, my friend, for this and more. At least, I'm not that guy! I've got an offer of a room downtown for the duration of this ordeal.

It really is too bad one dealer has the power to throw my little old retirement ride off the rails! Whatever happens and wherever I have to go for service, I will ride on knowing you are watching my six. I am blessed!

This morning, I tried to get a sympathetic ear from BMW Motorrad's Canada office. A customer service rep provided little service and even less help. He said he didn't know if Beemer had a corporate policy about helping stranded bikers. He didn't knwo what BMW could do to encourage "an independently owned and operated business" to do the decent thing. He didn't ride and he didn't get it!   

So I’m broke down and blue in B.C., but I will keep trying to get back on the road as quickly as possible.

Say a wee prayer for me to St. Christopher, the patron saint of travellers! And remember, if you can donate to the Ride for Sight, here’s the link to my secure online donation page.

Back on not-so-dry land

SIDNEY, B.C. -- Into every 16,000-kilometer motorcycle ride, a little rain must fall.

In the first real precipitation two weeks into  this ride, the Beemer and I boarded BC Ferries MV Spirit of British Columbia heading back to Vancouver from Victoria after sun- and fun-fillled days in the subtropical rain forests of Vancouver Island.

I love how bikes get priority on and off the boat! 

I stayed with Mindy’s cousin Diane and her husband Artie jn beautiful Langford. I sometimes forget other people are still at work, so we didn’t have a lot of time together.

But I’ll be back and it won’t be 10 years till my next visit.

I also stopped in to see Mindy’s Aunt Elaine who gave me a copy of a photo of her late husband Syd as a 17-year-old astride a late ‘40s Royal Enfield.

Elaine said her parents weren’t too thrilled to see their daughter clutching Syd on the back of what looks like a 250cc motorbike. Elaine told me their major objection was her wearing trousers!!

I think we both know exactly how Mindy’s folks must have felt when they learned I, too, ride a bike.

Both doctors, Mnndy’s parents probably weren’t happy about their daughter riding a “donor mobile” either!  

Speaking of Royal Enfields, the new ones being built in India these days are solid, reliable machines. My friend Jim, a retired Edmonton Journal reporter, rides one when he’s not on his venerable 600cc Honda TransAlp.

For two days, Jim squired me around Victoria as we swapped war stories about our time at Oakville‘s Sheridan College J-school; our experiences as poorly paid scribes for the billionaie owners of Thomson Newspapers; and the folks we know in common in Edmonton and elsewhere.

We fed herring to seals in Oak Bay marina, checked out the boats amassing from all along the West Coast for Victoria's annual SwiftSure regatta and rode along the scenic waterfront with its twisty roads that reminded me so much of the Antrim Coast Road that runs up the east coast of Northern Ireland from Larne north of Belfast, to the Giant’s Causeway near Portrush!

At one point we stopped for a pint at The Bard and Banker, a pub dedicated to Canadian poet Robert Service, who had worked in the building when it was a provincial bank. My mother-in-law is a great fan of Service!

A young crow had fallen out of its nest and the two parents were relentlessly dive-bombing passersby.

I escaped unscathed, but Jim’s bald pate proved irresistible to the maddened crows. He got as few deep scratches that bled profusely for a few minutes.

Single and in his 60s, Jim has climbed mountains, dived on ancient Roman wreck  and ridden Bucephalus as he calls is TransAlp from Edmonton to the tip of South America and north of the Arctic Circle, across Asia and India. He’s currently taking a sailing course as he looks for a boat he can take single-handed to Hawaii! If it was anyone else but Jim, I’d have my doubts, but I expect to see him posting pics from Maui in the not-too-distant future.

Now on to Vancouver where I’m going to try to see a few folks I haven’t touched base with in a while.

- - -

UPDATE -- Haven't posted in a few days due to a major breakdown in White Rock and a complete brush-off by the local BMW dealer.  But Jim immediately offered to drop everything, drive to White Rock and trailer the Bike-a-Lounger back to Triple M Motorsports in Edmonton. Not sure what i'm going to do, but first call today to BMW Canada to see if they can get me back on the road. More later. 

Renewing an old acquaintance

LANGFORD, B.C. -- Jim, a good friend and fellow former Edmonton journo, says there is an army of unseen volunteers who come out with watering cans to keep Vancouver Island green and growing.

At least, that was his response when I asked how it can be so lush if it doesn’t rain. I’ve probably jinxed myself, but there has been no precipitation of any kind since I left Edmonton and 8C just 10 days ago.

I’m sitting in the leafy backyard of my latest hosts, Mindy’s cousin Diane and her husband Artie and thinking back on a trip I made five years ago to Ireland with friends John, Darcy and Grant. I remember my Uncle John in Belfast telling me I was mad “to bring people to this country for a motorbike ride. Sure, we haven’t had three dry days since Christmas!” We then had two glorious weeks of sunshine and blue skies; narrow, twisty roads; and 50 pints in pubs!!

Tuesday after breakfast, I took a long stroll along Nanaimo’s bustling waterfront park where seaplanes compete with fishing boats, kayakers, luxury yachts and ferry boats for space in the harbor. You can tell a lot about a community’s civic pride by the way it protects its public spaces and natural areas – like this and Edmonton’s largely unspoiled North Saskatchewan River valley.

Much of the credit in nanaimo goes to Black Frank Ney, former mayor and founder of the city's world famous bathtub races!

But the real pleasure of Nanaimo was meeting Richard, my first city editor in 1976 at the now defunct Brampton Daily Times. I was fresh out of Sheridan College’s J-school and still thinking I was going to be the next Hunter S. or Woodward and Bernstein!

Richard taught me a lot about editing copy, lessons I cleave to to this day. He was patient and kind, nd I thought a bit of a soft touch. But I remember him expertly marshalling his troops day after day during the Mississauga train derailment that sparked (literally) the greatest peacetime evacuation in Canadian history! What a story for a young reporter to cut his breaking-news teeth on! I forgot to bring that up.

After leaving Brampton -- just ahead of me -- Richard was the editor of the Nanaimo paper before taking up teaching duties at Malaspina College, now Vancouver Island University or “the institution” as he calls it! We spent a pleasant hour over some great food at Gina's Mexican Cafe talking about the people we had worked with, what we’d been up to and where we had been the past 34 years, the passing of Richard’s wife Anne, who I remembered as a lovely woman and his plans for the next stage of his life with his new love in Victoria. Good further to you, Richard!

Heading south on BC Hwy. 1, the Trans-Canada Highway through the communities of Ladysmith, Duncan and North Cowichan, I had two decidedly different encounters with other motorcyclists.

The first was a fellow Beemer rider who waved his hand up and down palm flat to say slow down and wagged his finger. Cops! Sure enough, around a rocky bend on the Malahat section of the highway, the RCMP had several bikes and cars pulled over with flatbed tow trucks already loaded with a bike. Thanks for the warning, buddy! (I wasn’t speeding and the Bike-a-Lounger is anything but noisy, but who knows!)

I stopped in a rest area to make a call to my hosts. But something wasn’t right. I put my emergency flashers on but nothing happened. I tried to start the Bike-a-Lounger, but nothing! Aw crap! My first breakdown and I knew right away  it was the darned immobilizer screwing with me again.

The security system on the BMW K1200LT is complicated. I’m sure if I had bought the bike new I would have been schooled in its any technological complexities. But they guy I bought it from didn’t mention it and I didn’t know about it to ask. The security manual requires an enegineering degree, preferably from a good German university!

What to do? What to do? I popped up the driver’s seat to access the fuses. I started pulling them all and putting them back in. There are four in each of three locations. It takes time, it’s fiddly and if you drop one (or two!!) good luck fishing them out of the tight little crevices and tangle of wires and hoses hidden under the seat.

As I was doing this, a Mountie on a motorcycle rode by without even looking in my direction. Even if he couldn’t provide technical advice, it would have been nice to know he cared enough to stop and ask if I needed help!

Two other bikers stopped and one said he’d watch for me on his return trip. If I was still there, he’d give me a lift to a nearby bike shop. Now, that’s what I call the Brotherhood of the Bike! That’s why I salute all other riders as we meet. It means, if you ever need a hand, I’ll do what I can! Even if it’s pulling all your fuses for you, which works for me! After about 30 minutes on the side of the highway, I got the Beemer started and the bags back on and secured! Crisis averted.

I’m off to meet Jim, who has ridden his beloved Bucephalus, a venerable Honda TransAlp named for Alexander the Greek’s trusty steed, from Edmonton to Ushuaia, the capital of Argentina’s Tierra Del Fuego; to China, Pakistan and India; and north to Alaska. Even after completing this cross- Canada ride, I'll have barely scratched the total miles Jim has amassed in a lifetime of riding. 

I’ve got 2,019 kilometers under my belt so far, for an average of about 225 clicks a day. That’s a pretty fair clip considering all the stops for pix and sightseeing. Only 13,981 or so to go!

Please remember the Ride for Sight! More on that in a post later today.

Heading east from Tofino

NANAIMO – I’ve made the turn in Tofino and Newfoundland is now at least a few kilometers closer than it was last night.

I’m snugly tucked up in the Travelodge in this former Hudson’s Bay Company bastion, where the firing of the noon-day cannon hearkens back to its former status as an HBC coal mining centre dating to the 1850s.

I spent yesterday exploring the Ucluelet area after a comfortable night with Jackie, former Texas-Edmonton journalist, and her husband Gerry. And Fergus, their handsome Sheltie!

Jackie and Gerry have pledged a dollar a mile for the Ride for Sight and I thank them for their generosity in every regard. Jackie’s also going to write me up for the Ucluelet paper, the Westerly News, where she’s the managing editor!

After a quick breakfast of fresh-made cranberry-cinnamon-raisin rolls made from scratch by Jackie’s son Bradley, I headed out to explore the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve. Don’t know why British Columbia changed its tourism motto from Super. Natural. Because it is.

And moreso because B.C. Hwy. 4 from Coombs, near Parksville, all 160 kilometers to Tofino is another fantastic two-lane road sculpted by nature with motorcycles in mind.

My first stop out of Ucluelet was Wickanninish Beach, where surfers awaited the tide and the surf by building sunshade-windbreaks from driftwood logs, I walked along the hard-packed sand, but it was too sunny, warm and still for an all-black riding suit and boots!

Had an emotional moment explaining the ride to a young Vancouver couple. Sometimes the magnitude of what I’m doing gets me verklempt. It’s a lifelong dream come true! And I’m missing Mindy, especially since today is our anniversary! Eighteen years!

Next stop was Radar HillRadar Hill, a Pacific lookout station during World War II. Only the concrete foundation remains but there is a lookout that features tbe KapÝong Memorial - in honour of the brave men of D Company, 2nd Battalion Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, which took heavy losses during a fierce battle on 22-25 April, 1951 during the Korean War

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

The view from the lookout to Meares Island and the surrounding peaks was beyond words. I’ve seen some amazing scenery so far in this ride and I’m only a bit more than a week into it!

I thought I’d go to Tofino to scout out where I’d leave from on Monday, but by the time I got there, I realized it made no sense to drive such a long distance twice. 

I pulled up to the public boat launch, intending to dip the rear wheel in Pacific water. But caution, fear or perhaps just common sense made me leery of taking the 550-kilo BMW down the steep concrete – and slippery with seaweed -- launch ramp. I had visions of Jackie’s headline being “Bike Slip on Boat Slip”!

Instead, I filled a broken fizzy water bottle, mindful Tofino dumps its raw sewage in its harbour, and poured it on the back tire as an obliging young man took several pictures! That was Hollywood enough for me.

The harbourmaster suggested I visit another spot just a few blocks up, where a sign topped with a leaping orca proudly proclaimed the spot as the western terminus of the Trans-Canada Highway.

Mark RichardsonMark Richardson, a former Ottawa Citizen of my acquaintance and now a resident of my hometown of Cobourg, literally wrote the book on the TCH. I’m using Canada’s Road: A Journey on the Trans-Canada Highway from St. John’s to Victoria – his book on the 50th anniversary of the completion of the cross-Canada. From the back to the front, of course!!

After a tasty locally sourced fish taco and Mexican soda, I tootled back to Jackie and Gerry’s in Ucluelet, where the three of us and Jackie’s son Bradley – he of the cinnamon buns -- had a very homey dinner in the lounge of the posh Black Rock Oceanfront Resort.

A second helping of the ooey-gooey good treats and I was on my way into the sun this Victoria Day morning. Kennedy Lake looked like a Rorshach inkblot. This ride is providing all the therapy a soul could wish for.

I’m going to meet up with my first city editor from the late, great Brampton Times tomorrow, then run into Victoria. But now I must eat.

Please don’t forget the Ride for Sight.

Vancouver Island time

UCLUELET, B.C. – I’ve made it to the Pacific Ocean!

I bid farewell to my friends Cathryn and Charlie and their boys Angud, Rhys and Owen, zipped through a still-sleeping Vancouver and caught an early ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. I was a little anxious about the Bike-a-Lounger”s first boat ride.

But thanks to some much-appreciated advice from fellow BMW tourer Mark and the three dozen other bikers heading for the Island’s made-for-motorcycle roads, I was soon installed at the bow of the BC Ferry M/V Queen of Cowichan.

The 70-minute crossing was smooth and uneventful. We arrived in Departure Bay at exactly the time on the schedule. Air Canada could learn a thing or two from BC Ferries. Not only were bikes loaded first, we were the first to disembark!!

I counted 37 bikes – Harleys, crotch rockets, a 6-cylinder Triumph and several BMWs, from naked sports bikes to my all-out luxury tourer. What a racket we all made firing up against the steel hull of the Queen, then off the bow ramp and through the early morning sunshine for Parksville on the eastern shoe of the Island and the turn-off for Port Alberni, Ucluelet and Tofino, where I'll turn around and head aceoss this land on two wheels! 

Speaking of sunshine, the weatherman had called for 14C and showers, so I had re-installed the liners in my pants and jacket. I must have cut a dashing figure – not – in my longjohns in the parking lot of a community park in Parksville as I stripped off the suit and removed the liners.

The bike pack had moved on and I was once again a lone rider. The Scott suit was as windproof and waterproof as advertised when the forecast showers began near Coombs in the lush Comox Valley. By the time I made it to Cathedral Grove, though, the weather had cleared; now sunny and in the low 20s. Perfect biking weather!

Cathedral Grove, located in MacMillan Provincial Park, is one of the most accessible stands of giant Douglas fir trees on Vancouver Island. Mindy and I first strolled through its sweet-smelling trails in 1996 on our honeymoon, my first trip west.

I walked under the shadow of towering ancient Douglas fir trees -- “majestic pillars untouched by the modern world,” according to the interpretive signs. Some of the biggest are more than 800 years old.

I got my first attack of the lonelies walking back out of the forest gloom to the bike and BC Hwy 4, the Alberni Highway. Truth is, Mindy and I haven’t been apart for more than a week or two in more than 20 years and I miss her.

Mindy doesn’t really like riding on the bike. I know she goes on the occasional day ride just to humour me and I’m always happy when she does. But I miss not being able to share this fantatic adventure with her.

But enough of the mushy stuff!

I was feeling a lot better after some super-bendy motorcycle therapy and was soon heading into Port Alberni. As the New York Rangers shellacked the Montreal Canadiens, I tucked into a steaming bucket of local Manilla clams at the Clam Bucket.

I went for a walk along Port Alberni’s Snomass Estuary where I saw an older couple picking armfuls of what looked like pretty yellow wildflowers. But looks can be deceiving.

Scotch broom, says one internet site, is native to the Mediterranean and was intentionally introduced to B.C. in 1850. A hardy invader, it quickly spread up the east coast of Vancouver Island before invading the Gulf Islands and mainland. Highway departments planted Scotch broom as a bank stabilizer because of its deep root structure and rapid growth.

Nowadays, this weed is a strong competitor with various native plants including those within declining Garry oak ecosystems as well as newly planted coniferous forests. Digging it out, the man said, only made it worse as disturbing the soil triggers the release of each tiny blossom’s cache of seeds!

I have to admire committed volunteers like these folks. Where would we be without them? It’s also got me thinking about putting my time to a worthy cause when I get home.

I got in to Ucluelet in the late afternoon sunshine, only to discover from my hosts Gerry and Jackie that I had descended on them a day early! (That’s what I get for planning on a 30-day May and dropping May the 16^th out of my schedule altogether! Forehead meet palm of hand!)

But welcome me they did and today, after a good night’s sleep, I’m heading over to Pacific Rim National Park to listen to the sea lions barking!

Downtime in Vancouver

VANCOUVER – I’m sitting enjoying a leisurely second (or is it third?) cup of coffee in the lush and verdant backyard of my friends Charlie and Cathryn wondering how it can be early summer here and I left Edmonton only a few days ago where it was 8C and had snowed the day before. Everywhere in this West Van neighbourhood the shrubs and gardens are fragrant and colourful! Flowers that have already begun to drop their petals here haven’t even budded out back home!

Leaving Lillooet as the sun was coming up, I headed down B.C. Hwy. 99 aka the Duffy Lake Road, 100 kilometers of what is now my No. 1 favourite twisty road I’ve ever driven -- in Canada or anywhere else! The Going to the Sun Road in Montana’s Glacier National Park is a ride in the, well, park compared to the steep climbs, gear-dropping descents, and more and tighter S-bends and hairpins than I’ve ever experienced!

Too dangerous to stop and take pix, I'm afraid. But i had to take a shot of this sign: Winding Highway Use Caution When Passing. Passing? Are you mad?

Once again, I was climbing in an alpine forest where the snow lies in the shady groves of pine and spruce. The sweet smell of the forest and the sweet whine of the Beemer were barely registering as I concentrated on keeping it between the lines. If there had been lines!

I brought all my 40-odd years of motorcycling experience to bear. Even a slight glance at the spectacular scenery rushing by could put me a half-an-instant late into some turns with centrifugal force forcing me ever closer to the barely-there shoulder of the road.

I had to remember I was not the late, great Northern Ireland road racer Joey Dunlop roaring through the cozy roads of the North Antrim countryside on his hand-made Hondas with his Armoy Armada in tow!

In fact, I was sadly reminded of Trevor, a friend and former colleague, who high-sided his first bike in similar territory some years back. A lovely guy gone too soon.

Slow down, I told myself more than once, braking hard, shedding gears and willing the half-tonne Bike-a-Lounger to edge back from the precipitous road edge and the valley hundreds, sometimes thousands, of meters below!!

Nearly $600 worth of sticky new Metzler tires has proven to be a very good investment.

Even as I descended into Pemberton, a friendly farming village in the shadow of Mount Currie, I was shivering, partly from the exhilaration of such a special piece of road and partly from temps that dropped from 17C at 8 a.m. in Lillooet and dropped to 9C at the high point of The Duffy. That had me wondering if I’d made a mistake taking the liners out of my new Scott Motorsports riding suit.

I was still shivering when l I got off, had a coffee and carrot cake at The Pony and went for a wee walk to get the circulation going and the shakes to stop.

The biggest deal in town at the moment is a community barn-raising event. Imagine a log-timbered, open-sided barn being crafted by a very cool mix of old and young, Canadian and American male and female artisans using a combination of power and traditional hand tools.

Dave, a member of the Timber Framers Guild and volunteer builder, explained that the barn would be more than 45 meters long and about 15 meters wide, comprising 60,000 board-feet of local timber and would become the home for such community events as a farmers’ market, dances or public meetings.

I next headed up? down? over? to Whistler, the site of many of the 2010 Winter Olympic events, the air redolent of pine, pot and money.  Lots and lots of money, new and old.

It brought to mind Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s inaugural address as San Francisco’s first poet-laureate wherein he bemoaned the fact his beloved city had become the urban equivalent of a gentrified suburb gated by money! But that’s just how my mind works, I guess. I’m sure it doesn’t keep Whistlerites? Whislerians? Whistlers? awake at night.

As the highway temp shot up to 31C around Squamish, I was glad I’d yanked the thermal liners out of my suit after all. Once in the city, I had a full sweat going – the worst of it when my eyes starting stinging from a combination of salt and sunbock! Ouch!

The aptly named Sea to Sky Highway down to Vancouver is a well-paved four-lane that hugs the shore of Howe Sound and Georgia Strait. I only stopped long enough to get my photo taken by a nice fellow from Wimberley, Texas. Then i paid it forward by taking a picture of the owner of the new truck in the background!

I’m getting closer to my “real starting point” in the village of Tofino on the western shore of Vancouver Island, now just a ferry ride and some made-for-motorbike runs through virgin, old growth rainforest away.

I’m going to rest up here with Charlie and Cath, catch up on their lives and those of their three boys, who have grown into fine young men since Mindy and I were last here. Got to see some former Canadian Press pals and Mark, my first boss with the Alberta government and a long-time BMW tourer.

Also have to get one of the Beemer’s footpegs fixed. And no, I didn’t drag it through a curve on The Duffy!

Please remember the Ride for Sight, especially any bikers reading this. Ride for Sight because you can. Please visit my Ride for Sight secure online donation page and pledge a few bucks for this important fundraising ride to support research into the causes and prevention of blindness. Thanks

Changes in scenery

LILLOOET, B.C. – Got Off to an early start from Clearwater and headed down Old Hwy.5, a much twistier version of the new highway, which is the western leg of the Yellowhead. What a magnificent morning for a motorcycle ride.

Apart from some slight construction delays a trucker who decided to flick the tail end of a cigar out the window. Fool! Obviously the burned out timberlands from last year’s forest fires did not register with him. That’s how these things get started.

I pulled over to shed a layer of clothes as the temperature rose. I took some pictures just south of North Thompson Provincial Park. Stunning! What a way to start the day! And not a hint of wind to ruffle the slow-flowing waters of the Thompson River.

As I rode on down Hwy. 5, the landscape morphed from high alpine forest and meadow to the lush valley farms -- with hundreds of acres of land under shady tarps? Ah, the ginseng ranches! Finally the topography shifted shape again and I was in the sand, sagebrush and steep rocky canyons of the B.C. Interior.

I had planned an off-day in Kamloops visiting with an old friend from Sheridan College where we both aspired to be the next Woodstein and Bernward. Alas, it was not to be. Maybe I’ll catch up with Al later in the ride. As it was, I stopped at Timmy’s for a coffee and settled in to use their free wi-fi. However, fled when a local mommy group descended on the place.

I have no problem with children – even the teething ones. As the second-oldest of seven kids of working parents, I’ve spent some time in the company of infants.

No, what drove me out was how nasty the conversation quickly got. I guess a couple of the moms are getting divorced and it has become a team effort. Lots of “my lawyer says this…”and “my lawyer says that…! Helluva education those kids are getting. Sheesh!

From Kamloops, I headed west along Hwy. 97, the Coast Cariboo Route, an old mid-19^th century gold rush trail. I was bound for Cache Creek and Lillooet. Some stunning views of Kamloops Lake made me pull over for more pix.

I had only been under way again a minute or two, rising and falling, twisting and turning as the highway followed the lake when literally out of the corner of my eye, I caught a quick flash of white. Don’t know how I knew, but perched near the top of a lone pine between me and the water was a bald eagle.

Since the ban on DDT, these birds have made a remarkable recovery. There’s even a pair living just north of downtown Edmonton at a local cement plant. I often see them flying over the Irish Club. They are majestic animals, even sitting on a nest.

Farther along, past Savona, another roadside attraction caught my eye! A motley collection of weather-beaten wooden buildings looking like an Old West ghost town appeared to be deserted. I pulled in and took some pictures. Things got really spooky when music began to play from hidden speakers. U2’s Mysterious Ways! I’ll say! Weird or what?

After lunch at Hungry Herbies in Cache Creek (thanks for the tip, Rob!) I shed more layers of clothing. 26C might be too warm for long johns, especially under the quilted lining of my new Scott Motorsports riding suit.

It was in the low 30s when I made Lillooet, a logging town and spiritual home of Margaret ‘Ma’ Murray, a legendary muckraking journalist who signed off her often caustic editorials with Änd that’s fer damn sure!”I always enjoyed it when she would appear, even in her 90s, on CBC giving some hapless commentator a piece of her razor-sharp Kansas-bred mind!

It's also known for the high-quality local jade. Check out this meter-high chunk of Marshall Creek jade. There are similar pieces all over town.

After a good feed of (sorry, not local) trout, I watched a hockey game – complete with Stompin’Tom’s The Hockey Song, had a couple drinks with some locals, spent far too much time on Facebook  and got to bed late.

So, I’m (slap) dashing this off and getting ready for Vancouver, 255 clicks (that’s kilometers for those in the U.S., the U.K. or The People’s Republic of North Korea who may be unfamiliar with metric measurement) away! Lots of good friends there, but I’m dreading arriving in rush-hour traffic! Oh well, what can’t be cured must be endured, as my auld man used to say.

Thinking of him now, I’ll bet he’d love the chance to be on this ride with me. Whether he knows it or not, he is!

And please don’t forget to visit my Ride for Sight secure online fundraising page and pledge a few bucks for this important fundraising ride to support research into the causes and prevention of blindness. Thanks!