A Photo Journal: A Month Pedaling the Long Way

When you have a whole month to get from Point A to Point B, it clearly makes sense to go the long way, especially when doubling your mileage means quadrupling the gorgeous vistas.

Me and Don, doubling our mileage to quadruple our views.

My buddy, Donald, and I staffed an Adventure Cycling trip together in Whitefish in early July. A month later, we were leading another trip together out of Bellingham. As we both share an interest in hitting the open road (albeit dirt road) on two wheels, and as we both had a month of free time between trips, we decided to cycle together from the ending point of our first trip to the starting point of our next trip -- the long way. 

This is a photo journal of the month we spent pedaling from Whitefish, Montana to Bellingham, Washington...via Jasper, Alberta.

Biking Vancouver Island: A Photo Journal

Vancouver Island, which lies in the southwest corner of British Columbia, is a paradise of old-growth forests, mountains, oceans, lakes, and rivers. It is a marvelous place for Bathing in the Forest, something I've come to appreciate more-and-more with time.

I first fell in love with Vancouver Island when I backpacked the rugged West Coast Trail in 2010.

My brother (BJ) and me, standing in front of Tsusiat Falls on the West Coast Trail in 2010.

I fell even more in love with Vancouver Island when I spent three weeks Exploring Vancouver Island by car in 2014.

Striking a pose at San Josef Bay in 2014.

And so when I had a few days free after housesitting on Salt Spring Island for a little bike trip, Vancouver Island tugged at my heartstrings.

Cycling the Great Parks North & Great Divide Loop

Sandwiched between staffing two Montana-based Adventure Cycling trips, I spent ten days cycling a loop through British Columbia and Alberta. I departed from Eureka, MT (just south of the Canadian border) and travelled north to Banff, AB along the paved Great Parks North route. I then looped back to Eureka via the unpaved Great Divide route. All in all, the trip was just over 500 miles in length.

My loop.
(Red = the Great Parks North route and
Blue = the Great Divide route)

I really enjoyed the route. It provided a great mix of pavement and off-road riding as well as a great mix of nature and rural and urban settings. I had plenty of opportunities to bathe in the forest and to relish in the beauty of snow-capped peaks, pristine lakes, and colorful wildflowers. Below is a photo journal of my trip. For those interested in the details on my ride, my trip takeaways, route beta, and itinerary are provided at the bottom of this post.

Housesitting on Salt Spring Island

For thirty two days in December and January, I lived in a magical place. A place where arbutus and Garry oaks hold a steadfast stance on salty shores. A place where thick mossy rugs are like opium on hilltops, coaxing you to sit down for just a moment -- no, rather lie down for an entire afternoon snooze. A place where cormorants gather by the dozens to roost in treetops, noisily chattering as the sun sets. A place where time is measured only by the ferries that enter and leave the harbours.

An eagle eye's view of the magical place, looking north from Reginald Hill.
The Fulford-Burgoyne Valley, straight ahead, is nestled between
Mt Bruce (2,326 ft / 709 m) and Mt Maxwell (1,946 ft / 593 m).
If I were to turn towards the south, I would see the San Juan Islands.

If I were to turn so that the water was at my back,
I would see this soft, sunny spot,
begging for a picnic or a nose to be buried in a book. 

This magical place is Salt Spring Island. One of the southern Gulf Islands, Salt Spring is located in the Strait of Georgia, snuggled between mainland British Columbia and Vancouver Island. The Gulf Islands are close relatives to Washington state's San Juan Islands. They are separated only by an international border and distinguished by citizens who look the same but end their sentences with "eh." With 10,000 year-round residents, many of them "artist-types," Salt Spring is the most populous of the Gulf Islands. But it certainly doesn't feel that way; nature and solitude are abundant.

Bicycle Adventuring in Glacier, Banff, & Jasper National Parks

Immediately after returning from A Roadtrip Through California and Oregon in mid-July, I guided two trips for Bicycle Adventures.

The first trip was an 8-day ride from Glacier National Park (in Montana) to Banff and Jasper National Parks (in Alberta). The second trip was a 6-day ride through just Banff and Jasper National Parks. Both trips rode along The Icefields Parkway, a route I have wanted to bike for a number of years. There were two guides on the trips -- me and Laura (the head guide). We took turns every other day driving the van and riding alongside the guests.

Below are some photos from the trip:

Binoculars at Lake Louise.
This was my favorite photo from the trip.
I later saw this same image hanging in a hotel room where we stayed.
I guess I have an eye for a good photo!

Exploring Vancouver Island: A Photo Journal

For twenty-two days in July and August, Ferit and I explored Vancouver Island. Located in the southwest corner of British Columbia, Vancouver Island is the largest island in the Pacific Ocean east of New Zealand. This is a photo journal of our trip.

Some days we camped in campgrounds.
Other days we claimed our own "Private Idahos" in the forest.
This is our bush camping site at the end of a logging road near Port Alberni.
We spent two days/nights here, in our own little heaven.

As one who has always slept in tents mounted on the ground,
getting used to climbing in and out of a car-top tent took a little getting used to...
especially for mid-night tea-pees.

My Shadow Memory

I'm a firm believer that we have an obligation to ourselves (and to the world) to give life to our artistic creations. If we fail to do so, those creations will never exist, and the world won't be nearly as rich for it.

While sitting aside Muchalat Lake, on Vancouver Island, a poem came to me. While I certainly don't consider myself to be a poet, I felt the need to commit the poem to written form. And so I ran back to the campsite to grab a pen and paper. I returned to the lake and quickly scribbled the words from my mind.

While I don't foresee that anything "outwardly monumental" will come of the poem, I do know that the act of bringing the pen to paper enhanced my focus on the present moment. With that focus came a flood of joy and gratitude. For these reasons, this poem is deeply meaningful to me.

Watching the sunset at Muchalat Lake. (August 4, 2014)