There are a number of ways of getting from Vancouver Island to the interior of BC and further east. I know of three ways to do it but I am sure there are more. None of them are particularly smooth or easy. All require the use of public transit in some fashion or another. The first route is to go to Victoria, take a long bus ride to the ferry terminal, catch the ferry to Vancouver, and then take a couple of buses and the Sky Train and then another bus to get to start my off point just outside of Langley. To the best of my knowledge this spot is the only place where the city buses cross over Highway #1. It is a great spot with good sightlines and lots of room for cars to pull over. The traffic volume is reasonable and consistent. At the very least, I usually can get a ride from this spot to Chilliwack which gets me well out of Vancouver. Unfortunately it can take four or five hours to travel this route.
The second way is to take the ferry from Nanaimo (which gets one to a different ferry terminal on the mainland), and then take fewer buses etc. to get to the same great spot to hitch out of Vancouver. The advantage of this route is that one can be on the road with your thumb out and hour or so earlier that the former method. Both ways require staying in a hostel overnight and getting up really early in the morning.
The third method is to leave from Nanaimo take the ferry to Horseshoe Bay and then the Greyhound bus to Whistler. This route works well except one can't get to Whistler until after 12:00 and then one either needs to get through town - which means it is quite late to start travelling or stay in a hostel in Whistler so that you can get an early start the next day. The method is the most expensive option and feels as if it is the slowest to get going.
I chose this time to take the second option. It worked out great. I took a taxi to the terminal - I could have walked the 40 minute walk, but it was too early, it was still dark and it was starting to rain. The ferry ride was fine if a bit stormy, the bus connections were perfect and I was at my spot by 11:00. Except my spot was not there! It was totally destroyed. They were creating a new on-ramp and it was absolute chaos. Half the cars were going the new way and the other half were going the old way. It was muddy, there were lots of construction vehicles buzzing around and it was raining. It was raining hard. I had my pack covered with its special bright orange poncho type thing and I had on my even brighter orange rain jacket. But I got wet. The rain was dripping off my Australian drizabone hat in a constant stream; my quick dry pants had no chance to dry quickly or any other way and every step I took squeezed water out of my socks. I walked to a number of spots, dodging cars and back hoes and dump trucks. None of them felt safe for me or the drivers. It was depressing.
I have been lucky in my travels. I have been caught in a number a downpours and storms over the past year. But either I have been able to find a place to get shelter or the rain has not lasted very long. This time there was to where to hide from the constant day long rain. It may of stopped or at least slowed down for the occasional minute, but if so I don’t remember. I was so wet that the money in my wallet was soaking wet. I don't think I have ever been so wet in my life except when swimming and even then I don't think I had been any wetter than I was that afternoon. It was not just that I minded being wet, but I knew that the wetter I looked, the less likely it would be that I would get a ride. No one wants a wet passenger in their car. I could not blame them.
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