On the Road Again 2015 #13

I had assumed/hoped that it would be cooler in Horseshoe Bay. I really hadn't minded the thought of spending an hour or two sitting under a tree with the cool ocean air caressing my cheeks. There are many worse places to spend one's time. But the dreams of such pleasures rapidly faded upon my arrival. There was no breeze and in the sun, it felt as hot in Horseshoe Bay as it had been in downtown Vancouver. The spaces under the trees were crowded as the waiting ferry passengers all headed for the shade.

On the ground there was a totem pole. It was about fifteen feet long, nicely carved and looked to be in reasonable shape. There was a a placard beside it saying when it was carved, why and by who. People were sitting on it. That felt a bit disrespectable to me. Totem poles are not made for sitting. Then as I walked along the pole I saw another placard stating that the pole, at the base, had started to deteriorate.  It had been laid on the ground to dissolve into the earth. Totem poles were never meant to last forever. They naturally weather and wear. The pole had reached the end of its natural life cycle. It was appropriate that it be returned into the earth, and I guess for people to sit on it.

The ferry eventually came, I got on and immediately walked to the dining room. I was hungry. It may not have been the best veggie burger I have ever had, but it tasted pretty good after not eating much since Winnipeg. While I am grateful for having at least one meal I can buy on the ferry, I do wish there were more choices.

Just after I got on board, I attached a sign to my pack saying "Duncan" in the hopes that a driver would see the sign and offer me a ride. I knew that I had long missed the last Grayhound to Duncan and in the past had had limited luck in getting a city bus to take me anywhere near the highway. It was getting late (near 7:00), and I really did not want to call for a ride from my son. I wanted to complete the trip without having to ask for a ride.

Given the lateness of the hour and the fact that it was a holiday, I was not surprised that there were no city buses waiting for the ferry passengers. I tried to engage a taxi to drive me the few miles to highway but they were too busy finding passengers going to hotels to find my request interesting or worthwhile. I resigned myself to walking to highway, a walk that is long, uninteresting and up enough of a hill to be tiring. Just as I was about to leave the ferry terminal parking lot, I saw a city bus arriving. I ran back  (always an attractive sight for waiting passengers - perhaps running with a pack should be a Pan Am sport). The bus driver told me that she was not going in the direction I needed but the next one was. The next bus driver said no..... he was going north - the previous bus would have been a better choice. I was a bit crushed. I could see the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. As I started to walk, somewhat dejectedly  away, the bus driver called to me. He could take me to the north end of town right near the highway. It was a bit weird going north with Duncan being to the south of Nanaimo, but it sounded like a reasonable plan. At least I would be out of town.

It was a good spot to hitch from and I got a ride fairly quickly from two commercial fishermen. They had been out on the  water for a few days and were happy to get home. We didn't have a lot of time to talk which was too bad as I know nothing about commercial fishing and I would like to. For the first time in my hitchhiking career, I had a beer while we were driving. I could have said no, but the offer sounded good. I was hot, tired, thirsty and ready to celebrate that I would soon be only a few miles from my final destination. Just to the north of Ladysmith the driver turned off and I got out at an A & W parking lot. I crossed the highway and stuck out my thumb for the last time this trip. The sun was low in the sky and I could barely see the oncoming cars. Just as it dipped below the trees, a Westphalia van pulled up and I got in. This was only the second time in all of my travels that I have ridden in a Volkswagen van of any vintage. My driver had spent a few days kayaking in the ocean and was now headed back to Victoria. I was especially grateful for the ride in that it meant that I neither had to sleep on the side of the road, nor call my son to be rescued.
Twenty minutes later I was getting out of the van in Duncan and ten minutes later, I was at my son's house.

Two and half day to go from Winnipeg to Duncan is pretty good travelling. There is no way that I could drive that fast. In fact I probably got to Vancouver before my train did. It had been a good trip, with no long waits between drives. My drivers had all had interesting stories and for the most part, my time in their vehicles was enjoyable. I could not have asked for anything more.