In 2018 I rode my bicycle across Western Canada, covering about 2300km. It's been two years and I figured I'd release my journal entries here for anyone interested in what a trip like this does to a person's sanity.
Given that they're real-life jou...
I woke at 07:00 today, but the motel office didn't open until 08:00, so I waited the last ten minutes before I could check out outside. Here I saw that every other guest—every—was a cyclist. And Chinese, but that's beside the point. They're part of a cross-country cycling group called Mission Is Possible. I guess this must've been their starting point.
After some time pedalling, I came to Hwy 7B, where I decided there was no way I was gonna ride into Vancouver on any road other than my beloved Trans-Canada. I took 7B and eventually reconvened with Hwy 1 25km outside Vancouver. It was the most pristine stretch of highway I've ever laid eyes on. This dumbass province probably spends its whole infrastructure budget on the damn thing, given the rest of the roads in BC are utter shit. And cyclist aren't even allowed on it! Outrageous. I mean, there are so many exits that a more nervous cyclist than myself might experience a bit of a breakdown, but c'mon.
Anyway, I was beginning to feel yesterday's effort by this point and the final 20km to Vancouver was almost agonizing, but I damn well did it. Vancouver, baby! Totally pulled a Phileas Fogg on all you fools who bet I couldn't do it.
I arrived on the perfect day too. Commercial Street was closed off for a festival. Italian Day. Big crowds and food trucks. It was beautiful. I ended up eating from an Indian food stand because I lack any appreciation for culture, but hell, good food's good food.
From here I rode around a little more before coming to Main Street and deciding I was gonna take a ferry to Victoria. It didn't sound stupid until I'd been pedalling for three hours and still had another one to go before I'd arrive at the dock.
My legs were singing by the time I took a seat on the boat, beautiful burger in my stiff fingers. I'd never been on a seafaring vessel like this one before. Motor boats are as big as I'd experienced until this. It was thrilling to see the water passing by through the windows when it started moving.
I arrived on the island at 22:30 and was picked up shortly thereafter by Mother's boss, my accountant. He took me to his house and showed me to a guest room before handing me a Sleeman and saying goodnight. I could definitely use a drink after these past two days.
Mission Is Possible gearing up for a country-long tour.
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Home stretch.
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