Ride With Me – Chemainus to Qualicum Bay

So now, after the first bike-touring adventure, here is the second part of my bike-trip up Vancouver Island, to my friend’s property just outside Qualicum Bay.

Chemainus in a Bad Mood

I woke up well rested in a gorgeous part of the world (though it was an RV park). The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I had just had the best sleep anyone could ever wish for. I was so happy… until I looked at the time: Holy Smokes, it’s 8:30!!! I slept longer than I’d wanted to. As I was packing up my tent, almost ready to go, an employee of the RV park came by, walking her dog. “Good morning,” she said, “Did you fill out a self-registration form?” Most certainly I have. But since I expected to be on my way before anyone noticed, I had not slipped it under the closed office door. Now, I had no other choice but give it to her. Two crispy green $20 bills for the privilege of setting up my tent in a designated area. She told me I could pick up the one dollar change I was due when I passed by the office, but of course it was closed again. I felt properly gypped, but so be it.

The next frustrating experience was leaving the RV park, when I realized that the only way out was taking the highway back towards where I had come from, before I could get back to the old road. Repeating the same few kilometers on the same stretch I had come the day before, I passed by a number of other RV parks! I could have camped here, without having to go through all this rigmarole!!! Eventually I found myself in Chamainus again, a town that came highly recommended, mostly for its “world famous murals”.

Well, there were murals for sure. According to local lore, not long ago the town was heavily hit by some hard times. So much so, that it was ready to be completely boarded up, as all its residents were leaving. The few who remained, brainstormed a solution: to fill as many walls as possible with murals, which ended up drawing enough visitors to save the local economy.

Since I’ve been collecting many amazing murals in my blogs, I was actually looking forward to seeing them. But given my current mood (and possibly a bad case of caffeine withdrawal) I wasn’t much impressed by the images of loggers, sailors, and railroad workers, representing the town’s heritage. Sure, there were Chinese and Native People too, but all I wanted at this moment was a strong coffee and a hearty breakfast. On a Monday morning after Mother’s Day, however, most establishments in this tourist trap were closed… except for the biggest one, where I left ten bucks for an average coffee and a small egg-wrap. It did have WiFi, however, so I posted the story I’d written the previous night, charged my phone, and informed myself on the details of the rest of my ride.

Off-Road or the Big Road

Leaving Chemainus my spirits started lifting again. I couldn’t have asked for more beautiful weather, and I was making relatively good progress. In the town of Ladysmith I came across a sign announcing the Trans Canada Trail, as a biking/hiking/horeback riding trail leading all the way around Nanaimo, a major town I had been hoping to avoid somehow. Sure I was gonna give it a try. It lead me up some major hills, but at least I didn’t have to ride on the highway. Unfortunately, it was a bit hard to follow, as signs were few to non-existent. The “trail” itself was an old logging road, gravely and full of pot-holes, though fortunately mostly flat, and it just kept going and going. I must say, it was a beautiful ride… until it came to an end. The trail continued of course, and as a hiker I wouldn’t have had a problem following. With my bike, it was a bit different however… I was thinking about the poor horses! No way I was gonna carry my fox, and instead opted to take a logging road back to civilization.

It was a wide gravel road, leading downhill. Since I have heard and read so much about all-terrain cycling at Recyclistas, I decided to let some air out of my tires, and speed down the gravel randoneur-style. Could my fox handle it? Of course she did, with flying colors! Only later did it occur to me that skidding on the gravel might have been quite painful, and in case everything went sideways, it would have probably taken a while before someone came around to scoop me up. But by then I was back on the highway, around Nanaimo airport.

Highway, No-Way! Anyway, No Other Way!

There are two roads leading up the Northern shore of Vancouver Island: the old road, a classic over-occupied two lane road, and the new highway a bit further inland, a modern four-lane superhighway. Both are accessible by cyclists, the former generally more quiet, but with a narrow shoulder, the latter the opposite. I generally like to avoid the through-way, but on certain stretches, there just is no other option, as the two are one and the same. So I sucked it up and powered through on the shoulder of the freeway. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Sure, there were big trucks passing by, and there was almost nothing to see, but the shoulder was wide enough and I was actually getting ahead nicely. However, I was still looking forward to leaving the highway as soon as possible. The chance came very soon, as the city of Nanaimo offers the option of the “Parkway Trail”, a lovely bike trail running close by the highway. I was more than happy to take it.

Pretty as it was, the Pairkway Trail turned out to be super tiring! Lots of ups and downs, often with incredible steepness. Sometimes I found myself way above the highway, other times deep under it. It would take me through the suburbs as well as through lovely parks, with picturesque lakes, then again past construction sites, crossing under and over the highway over and over again. Not a bad trail, by any means, but once I had completed it, I was almost ready to collapse. Nanaimo was behind me, but there were still a good 40 km to go till Qualicum Bay.

Eventually I got back on the highway, and I just kept pressing on, eating kilometers determinedly. My wrists were aching, my legs were tired, and the sun was shining straight into my face, as I rode into the sunset. Finally, I made it. 110 km in total. It was a major victory, but I developed a deep appreciation for the advice of planing 50-70 km distances for a day. No need to push so hard… unless you’re almost there of course.