[Riding South] Queen Victoria, I am dirty as a glass roof in a train station
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Assigned to e.apt.d...@gmail.com by me
Eric
Sep 1, 2006, 4:14:36 PM9/1/06
to ridin...@googlegroups.com
Dear Reader,
I write to you from Victoria, BC. I've just come from breakfast at Floyd's - a hip, Elvis diner. I ordered the Mahoney - you get whatever the kitchen makes and then you flip the waitress for a double or nothing price. I wish I could say that I ate a free breakfast.
Two weeks ago I left Prince George with Dominic the tandem riding Brit. Like most of the English travelers I've met he is a gentleman, tough as nails and has a talent for understatement. We rode for a day together with his partner of the hour Cassie, who he charmed out of Prince George for a few days. It was a long days ride but pleasant - stopping to eat the best burger I've have in a while and swimming in the river. We rode until midnight in order to meet our previous host, Ryan the Jam Man.
Dominic continued on down the road while I went with Ryan to pick blueberries for a day. Ryan, a back roads native, and his crew then drove me deep into logging country Dukes of Hazard style. They then proceeded to unpack from their converted school bus a circus sized tent which looked capable of hurricane force winds. They also cooked wonderful meals on the electric stove and we camped in high style. The next day I picked fifteen pounds of blueberries and ate more berries than any man should.
The following day I was driven back out to the road and set out south on the back roads. Unsure what to expect I found myself traveling through Rancher land - large pastures and dry haying fields. Large numbers of crickets were camped out on the road and riding through them I felt as one does dividing a sea of crickets. They jumped out in all directions, some into my tires, some into my hair and a few made it out of the way. A days ride followed the top of a river canyon and occasionally the road plunged down 500 ft to cross the river. I ended up camping in a beautiful solitary riverside spot surrounded by towering dirt cliffs.
After struggling back out of the canyon I rode through the busy working class town of Williams Lake. Rather than taking the highway which curved around east, I headed directly south through reservation land. It quickly began to feel like the wilderness. The road became gravely, full of washboard ruts, and descended very steeply up and down. The temperature got much hotter and farmland turned into scrub brush and sage. The residents I met talked of the lack of work out in the poor reservation towns.
After four days I reached pavement, joyously smooth pavement, and followed the Sea to Sky Highway (RT99). Passing through the small towns things became quantified again. Damn hot became a high of 107 in the shade and damn steep became grades of 15%. My brain was baked and my body exhausted. On the steep paved downhills, when I could go faster than the cars, the smell of burning brakes predominated.
Mechanically I've had a few problems thus far. I've had only one flat due to a worn out back tire. I've broken six spokes (all on my back wheel) and gotten good at fixing and truing wheels. At one point, the stays holding the rear rack broke and suddenly the back rack was dragging along the road. Also, I've broken several pannier hooks and dragged my bags a good ways. I've found that duct tape, zip ties and a bit of patience will fix just about anything.
I spent an afternoon in Whistler, people watching. To make a Whistler, take a small mountain tourist town, add many millions of dollars and toss. The downtown is a crazy jumble of shops with streets running in all directions. I quickly had had enough of Whistler so I continued south to a cooler climate. Squamish quickly passed and, since I was in no mood to rock climb in the heat, so did I. Eventually I rolled into Vancouver.
Vancouver seems a big, clean city which is starting to struggle with the problems of growth. It's sensationalist paper, the Vancouver sun, proclaimed a "source of panhandlers and drug users" but other than the small red light district near my hostel everything seemed safe and morally clean. The hostel was a relief - full of soft beds, warm showers and friendly foreigners.
After Vancouver it was off to the Vancouver island. Here I would see a few stands of gigantic trees, get lost on the well kept logging roads, and eat dozens of pounds of blackberries. At one point a school bus full of middle aged Canadians stopped near where I was resting and twenty filed out. I was mobbed with friendly questions and then had piles of food thrust into my arms. Just as quickly as they arrived, they left in a cloud of dust. Bemused and happy, I ate through the sushi, fruit, cookies and chocolate. Eventually I circled back around to Victoria. Soon I shall return by ferry to Port Angles and the United States.
In about two weeks I'll be in San Francisco and checking general delivery. If you feel so inclined, I always enjoy cards saying "hi" and chocolate (cards made out of chocolate are the best). I'll be checking it around Sept 16th:
Eric Apt-Dudfield,
c/o General Delivery,
San Francisco, CA 94112.
And I've posted photos at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/e.apt.dudfield
I hope everyone is well!
Eric
--
Posted by Eric to Riding South at 9/01/2006 05:13:00 PM
I write to you from Victoria, BC. I've just come from breakfast at Floyd's - a hip, Elvis diner. I ordered the Mahoney - you get whatever the kitchen makes and then you flip the waitress for a double or nothing price. I wish I could say that I ate a free breakfast.
Two weeks ago I left Prince George with Dominic the tandem riding Brit. Like most of the English travelers I've met he is a gentleman, tough as nails and has a talent for understatement. We rode for a day together with his partner of the hour Cassie, who he charmed out of Prince George for a few days. It was a long days ride but pleasant - stopping to eat the best burger I've have in a while and swimming in the river. We rode until midnight in order to meet our previous host, Ryan the Jam Man.
Dominic continued on down the road while I went with Ryan to pick blueberries for a day. Ryan, a back roads native, and his crew then drove me deep into logging country Dukes of Hazard style. They then proceeded to unpack from their converted school bus a circus sized tent which looked capable of hurricane force winds. They also cooked wonderful meals on the electric stove and we camped in high style. The next day I picked fifteen pounds of blueberries and ate more berries than any man should.
The following day I was driven back out to the road and set out south on the back roads. Unsure what to expect I found myself traveling through Rancher land - large pastures and dry haying fields. Large numbers of crickets were camped out on the road and riding through them I felt as one does dividing a sea of crickets. They jumped out in all directions, some into my tires, some into my hair and a few made it out of the way. A days ride followed the top of a river canyon and occasionally the road plunged down 500 ft to cross the river. I ended up camping in a beautiful solitary riverside spot surrounded by towering dirt cliffs.
After struggling back out of the canyon I rode through the busy working class town of Williams Lake. Rather than taking the highway which curved around east, I headed directly south through reservation land. It quickly began to feel like the wilderness. The road became gravely, full of washboard ruts, and descended very steeply up and down. The temperature got much hotter and farmland turned into scrub brush and sage. The residents I met talked of the lack of work out in the poor reservation towns.
After four days I reached pavement, joyously smooth pavement, and followed the Sea to Sky Highway (RT99). Passing through the small towns things became quantified again. Damn hot became a high of 107 in the shade and damn steep became grades of 15%. My brain was baked and my body exhausted. On the steep paved downhills, when I could go faster than the cars, the smell of burning brakes predominated.
Mechanically I've had a few problems thus far. I've had only one flat due to a worn out back tire. I've broken six spokes (all on my back wheel) and gotten good at fixing and truing wheels. At one point, the stays holding the rear rack broke and suddenly the back rack was dragging along the road. Also, I've broken several pannier hooks and dragged my bags a good ways. I've found that duct tape, zip ties and a bit of patience will fix just about anything.
I spent an afternoon in Whistler, people watching. To make a Whistler, take a small mountain tourist town, add many millions of dollars and toss. The downtown is a crazy jumble of shops with streets running in all directions. I quickly had had enough of Whistler so I continued south to a cooler climate. Squamish quickly passed and, since I was in no mood to rock climb in the heat, so did I. Eventually I rolled into Vancouver.
Vancouver seems a big, clean city which is starting to struggle with the problems of growth. It's sensationalist paper, the Vancouver sun, proclaimed a "source of panhandlers and drug users" but other than the small red light district near my hostel everything seemed safe and morally clean. The hostel was a relief - full of soft beds, warm showers and friendly foreigners.
After Vancouver it was off to the Vancouver island. Here I would see a few stands of gigantic trees, get lost on the well kept logging roads, and eat dozens of pounds of blackberries. At one point a school bus full of middle aged Canadians stopped near where I was resting and twenty filed out. I was mobbed with friendly questions and then had piles of food thrust into my arms. Just as quickly as they arrived, they left in a cloud of dust. Bemused and happy, I ate through the sushi, fruit, cookies and chocolate. Eventually I circled back around to Victoria. Soon I shall return by ferry to Port Angles and the United States.
In about two weeks I'll be in San Francisco and checking general delivery. If you feel so inclined, I always enjoy cards saying "hi" and chocolate (cards made out of chocolate are the best). I'll be checking it around Sept 16th:
Eric Apt-Dudfield,
c/o General Delivery,
San Francisco, CA 94112.
And I've posted photos at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/e.apt.dudfield
I hope everyone is well!
Eric
--
Posted by Eric to Riding South at 9/01/2006 05:13:00 PM
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