Summer Vacation

Well, I managed to squeeze my way out of work one day earlier than anticipated, which is always good news. Less work = more fun, no matter what you’re doing.

Day 1
After a mad and frantic pack, the truck, trailer and the three of us are ready to go. We pulled out of Kelowna mid-morning and headed for the Coast. With temperatures reaching the low 40’s and the air being chalked with light smoke from the Terrace Mountain Fire, we headed for the coast in search of clean air and cooler temperatures. Driving the Connector proved to be a bit of a learning experience, pulling the trailer at 100km/h, learning the breaking techniques, and how hard to push the truck with the extra weight. After passing the no longer existing toll booth (yeah no $10 lost to the gov’t), Simon woke up and started negotiating for food. We stopped half way down the hill on the way into Hope, taking a small service road that lead us away from the highway and into a secluded area on the opposite side of the Coquhilla River. The heat was nearly unbearable out of the water, and with the prospect of cooling down we stripped down to the buff and went for a great swim. Pico and I played in the river for an hour or two, while Dee and Simon ate and swam and ate and swam. After that we meandered out way in to Cultus Lake to find a camping spot.

I must say that swimming naked within the first 3 hours of vacation pretty much sets a good tone for the remainder of the vacation. Everyone should try it!

Day 2
Crossing the boarder was without incident, and a little disconcerting. We were asked but two questions, and the guard didn’t even want to see Simon’s birth certificate, as it “wasn’t a Passport”. So we entered into the States with just Dee and I being registered at the boarder, and made our way south on the backroads on Highway 9 through Acme, Saxon and Wickersham. We were transported through various agricultural hot spots, growing blueberries and raspberries, corn, and other vegetables, and through coastal coniferous forests. It really was a beautiful drive, much more interesting than the I5. We ended our day a Deception Pass State Park on Whitby Island. This was one of the coolest places that we visited. A short bike ride from the campground, but still within the park, led us to a beautiful fresh water lake that was almost as warm as a bathtub. The lake had natural rock outcroppings or a formal beach that you could swim from. We chose the rock outcroppings. Located just 50 meters farther on from the lake, across a small peninsula of land was the Pacific Ocean. What a stark contrast in temperatures!

We explored Oak Harbour, near Deception Pass, as we didn’t dare bring any food items across the boarder in fear of having to give them up. The town has potential, though from a planning perspective, there needs to be some serious reconsideration given by City Council. Oak Harbour has a beautiful waterfront street, that most likely, has rich history embedded in it. Unfortunately, there has been no money invested into upgrading the harbour aspect of the town, and instead urban sprawl has taken over, developing new stores, buildings, and lands outside the harbour core. I was disappointed to see this, as the town could turn into a tourist Mecca thanks to its easy access and beautiful location.

Day 3
Travelling south, to the end of Whitby Island, and onto our first ferry ride. The ferry was a bit of a surprise, as I thought that we were going to cross a bridge instead…so much for reading maps carefully. Anyways, as we approached the terminal, it appeared as though the ferry would actually be affordable, as a regular car was charged about $8.50. However, I suspect that the operator saw the BC plate and seized the opportunity to fleece a couple dumb tourists. Since we were over height and over length, they made sure to charge for every inch. In total we were charged $48.50 for a 20 min ferry ride over to Mukilteo on the mainland outside Seattle.
When we reached the other side we lunched at a beautiful beach near the terminal and then onto REI. Managing a trailer over the I5 and through downtown Seattle proved to be a little more stressful than I was anticipating, but we survived. I can’t say the same about our time in REI, man you can rack up a bill in that place fast. Thankfully we refrained from purchasing good deals and only picked up what we needed.
We stayed at Dash Point State Park. It was a weird situation for us to be in. The park is located in urban Tacoma, thought the park itself is incredibly natural, private and surrounded by dense lush vegetation. It was definitely not the prettiest campground that we stayed in, but we felt safe and comfortable in a highly populated major urban centre.
Aside – today, while in Tacoma, was the first time that I was directly witness to serious racism. It shocked me, and despite the fact that I feel for the young man that was afflicted, I was happy to have learned from his experience and hardship. It truly was an eye opener, and you just don’t see that sort of thing in small town Kelowna.

Day 4 – 10
We arrived in Westport and were greeted by Tess and Loic relaxing on the beach. Those few minutes spent sipping beer and watching the sun set was really the only relaxing time that we had in Westport. Every other minute seemed to be packed with surfing, be it kayak or surfing in the classic sense of the word, flying kites, exploring Westport and surrounding areas, biking, walking/hiking, bocce, beer, good food, and most of all laughing at one another. Nadine and Chris were subjected to their first kayak ocean surfing and based on their perma smiles, I think they liked it. Together we managed to break through the crashing waves and experience true surf. Out beyond the crashing waves were the breakers, and they were HUGE! Typically kayakers are hated by surfers for a few reasons, one because we catch waves a lot easier, and two, because we can stay on the wave a lot longer. Regardless of the reason, the surfers made no hesitation about telling me off. This attitude is nothing more than petty bullshit by a bunch of douchbags who think that they “own” portions of the ocean, and really pissed me off. I made sure to give plenty of space, and obeyed all of the “sacred rules”, but still slander was thrown my way. Way to go guys, your slander, bullshit and self proclaimed ownership of the ocean really makes you look cool!
Anyways, moving on, when we caught the first few breakers, it was incredibly fun to surf the breaker and stay on it as it crashed and surf it all the way into shore. I quickly learned that trying to paddle back out through the crashing waves proved to be one of the most difficult physical tasks that I have completed in many years. I was continually pounded by tonnes of water crashing over the bow of my boat, thrown backwards, flipped upside down, and pushed sideways by each crashing wave. It was only by my sheer Roberts stubbornness and a glimmer of luck that I was ever able to power my way back out. Some may call me slow, but after two or three times I learned to surf the breaking waves and then make a quick exit before the wave crashed towards shore. This enlightenment allowed me to surf the huge green waves, carve back and forth, and see the hundreds of thousands of small silver fish swimming just below the surface of the water. It was incredible, as the waves broke the fish would glitter like silver on the face of the wave, surfing it down, jumping skyward and generally playing while trying to survive before getting picked off by pelicans, seagulls and fishing trollers.
Towards the end of our five days in Westport, the surfers and kayakers started to develop incredibly sore rashes on our necks. This was a direct result of the salt and sand getting in and rubbing between the bare skin of our necks and the wetsuits and dry suits. When we left it looked like someone had tried to hang us by a rope.
On the last night Ian, Emma, Dee, Simon and I decided to head down to the beach to enjoy some of the delicious micro brews we had bought and play bocce, fly kites and read. It is legal for you to drive on the beach, so we drove along the sand and chose a great spot with an interesting log for us to play on and around. Ian graced us with his rendition of the naked cyclist at full sprint, who knew he was so artistic. See attached photos for reference.

Day 10-12
The morning that we were to leave Westport, we still had no destination in mind. After much deliberation, and consultation with Ian, it was decided that we would head up HWY101, and arrive in Port Townsend that afternoon. Arriving in Port Townsend (or PT as the locals call it) the first thing that both Dee and I noticed was the obvious presence of cycling amenities, ranging from dedicated and separated cycling paths, to bike storage facilities to just the plain old number of cyclists on the road. After setting up camp at Fort Warden, a historical military camp located on the ocean front, we ventured through the roads and public trails snaking between private property and public lands. It was one of the most intelligent designed cities that I have ever been to, where if you arrived at the end of a road, or a corner, or a “T” intersection, you were rarely ever stuck heading in a direction you didn’t want to go as there was always a pedestrian trail connecting you to the next road, neighbourhood, or community. The trails were only ever dirt singletrack trails, but they were well beaten and well used. Brilliant city planning! Beyond the extensive trail networks, history was well preserved within the residential areas and the town centre. It was as though the whole town was part of a heritage conservation plan. Historical murals and advertisements on the sides of buildings were restored, old classic cars roamed the streets and none of them were pimped out, and each house was meticulously cared for, most of which were probably built in the mid 20th century or earlier. Heritage conservation coincides exceptionally with culture and entertainment. Throughout the town there was a huge amount of open green space dedicated to gardens and squares advertising things like Art and Rhododendron festivals, environmental conservation and preservation areas, all of which helped maintain the stunning viewscapes. In the evenings there was free music at the docks, where we listened to a great band who rocked the crowd, getting some of the locals dancing like Elaine from Seinfeld. Great entertainment! In the mornings we beach combed, picking up crabs, playing with sea weed, and trying to stay upright on the slimy rocks.

Day 13
Not having any fixed plans really worked to our advantage here. As we drove north on Whitby Island we noticed signs advertising an art festival in Anacortes. After brief discussion it was decided that we would take some time to explore arts and culture. We camped in a campground that was operated by the city, and it was beautiful. A dense forest with lush undergrowth lined the campsites while kids whooped and played around us. It was busy, but that was to be expected at that time of year and such great weather. As we explored the festival it was apparent that there was some pretty serious talent in some of the exhibits, while others contained knickknacks. It was also blatantly apparent that the recession did not appear to be affecting the northwest at all. Prices were shocking, even compared to last year’s purchasing power. There were items priced at thousands of dollars, and while I recognize that they may not have been selling, the average prices of items discouraged us from purchasing more that a really cool wooden toy car for Simon and an artisan coffee cup for me. Quite simply, we couldn’t afford to buy anything else.

Day 14-15
After spending more time in the civilized world while on vacation than we ever had before, it was now time to get out into the wild…or as wild as things can be when you’re living out of a travel trailer. Heading back towards home we stopped in the North Cascades National Forest, which is a great area, though not as well renowned as the North Cascades National Park. Much to our dismay we were not allowed to stay in the Park, nor could we recreate there thanks to Pico, our canine companion, and the no dogs allowed anywhere within the park rule. Alas we resorted to visiting Monogram Campground. When we arrived it was party central, as a number of campsites had their music blaring, the booze flowing and the cursing down pat. I felt like I was at a high school bush party, except these people would have been old enough to have been our chaperones. After many complaints to the camp host, the rowdies were shut down and the campsite resumed its peace and quiet. It was a beautiful spot, located right next to the North Cascades River and nestled in the thick damn coastal forest. Our first hike was to bring us towards Monogram Lake, and according to the Ranger at the info centre, it was a classic in the area. Turns out that while I am sure it is beautiful when you get there, it is a slog of a trail, essentially climbing what felt like straight up through the dense canopied forest, the whole way. Unfortunately we didn’t make it all the way to the lake, as 2.5 hours into the hike Simon decided that he had enough of sitting in a backpack, and we were too tired to pick up the pace and push to make it a shorter travel time. We turned around, tired and somewhat frustrated that we didn’t see the lake, or anything other than the forest for that matter, and trudged our way back down hill. Climbing up is hard, but descending is even harder, taking its toll on our knees and legs. Of course it doesn’t help when you have a little fatty on your back kicking and screaming at you the whole way either. I was impressed at Simon’s tolerance though, I can imagine that it would be frustrating to be sitting in the backpack for so long, constantly fighting sleep as you are lulled with the constant bob and rhythm of the walk. The following morning we awoke to the first day of rain the entire trip. We elected to drive towards the border, testing Simon’s patience in the car seat. We were pleasantly surprised at his aptitude for sleep and found that we were getting restless before he was. We pulled over at a trailhead for an area called Blue Lake. The signs showed that it was a relatively easy hike, which is exactly what our weary legs craved. A quick 1.25 hours up along a relatively easy trail brought us into an area that reminded us both of Crypt Lake in Waterton National Park, located in southern Alberta. A quick photo and look around and we headed back down the trail in hopes of beating the rain that was catching up to us from the morning. A quick and painless border crossing and a short drive brought us to Casa del Mom and Dad.

We stayed at St. Andrew’s for 3 days, exploring the lakes and trails before handing over the keys to their trailer and heading back to Kelowna. I have never spent 2.5 weeks on the road like that, and I must say that it was an experience that I recommend to everyone. I found that while the first week was relaxing, it wasn’t completely so. Not that work lingered in my mind, but it definitely took a week to de-stress, and to get into the new routine on vacation. The second week was great. We learnt how to set up the trailer quickly and efficiently, managed to relax about relaxing, and to drift in and out of consciousness...Week 3 brought total unconsciousness, a loss of time and space and a delirium in which I found it difficult to understand why it was that we all choose to work and carry the unnecessary stresses that we do. I managed to keep that frame of mind for the first week after I returned to work, however as corporations do, they beat me back into submission and I now long for another 3 weeks…

Check out our photos here