CRASHES, TULTURES, AND RAIN

NOTE:
As of April 11, we've finally managed to find a decent computer and we've uploaded a lot of photos for your viewing pleasure. Make sure you check out the Victoria, Gulf Islands and Cowichan Region photos albums.


Finishing up in Victoria

Eric says:
So we did buy a new tent, after much shopping. Three hundred dollars later, we are in a Sierra Designs dome tent with lots of the options we wanted.

We sent our defeated old tent home with more stuff that by now I had decided was excess. This included a shirt, a pair of pants and a Farley Mowat book I had recently finished, called The Boat Who Wouldn't Float (a must read, very funny).

The great part about buying this tent was that we were given a $30 gift certificate for the store where we bought it, Robinson's. After shopping for an hour, we used it to buy that real fancy freeze-dried backpacker's food. We even got cheesecake.

Rachel says:
The Fort Victoria RV Park was filled with sympathetic retirees living in luxurious fifth-wheels, who were worried about how we would be warm in a tent. We were offered an emergency space blanket by one senior and a ride downtown by another.

The ride made it possible for us to spend money on only one bus ride from Victoria to the ferry terminal, where we hopped on the ugliest ferry ever, bound for Galiano Island.


Galiano Island and kayaks

Eric:
We camped at Montague Harbour Marine Provincial Park. It was empty and absolutely gorgeous. We arrived there Wednesday night and got a beautiful site overlooking the harbour. Seaplanes and million-dollar yachts were coming and going.

The next day we got picked up by a guy named John, who owned a place right on the bay. After the usual hitchhiker chit-chat (where you from?) he looks over at me and says, "Hey, I've got an offer you won't be able to refuse . . . Why don't you guys come out to my place and take my sea kayaks out for a run?" We hadn't known this guy for more than a few minutes and he offers us his boats?! I replied, "You're right, I'm not able to refuse."

Galiano was great until the Easter weekend hit, when all the pampered car campers invaded our pristine campground. There was even a youth group that had kids running everywhere until 10 p.m. Thank goodness I have never done or been a part of something like that.


Mayne Island and bikes

Eric:
We then went to Mayne Island to a private "campground" (one resident told us it was technically illegal because the area wasn't zoned for camping, but the owner just kept paying the fines because they were so cheap) called Eco-camping. The outdoor shower was built around a tree in the middle of the forest and the hot tub sat almost on the shore of Miner's Bay. We did use the shower and found it quite refreshing; but we did wait till dark.

The first day on Mayne Island was fairly uneventful, except for the following incident:

Rachel and I had walked all the way across the freaking island, no small task, about six kilometres, to see about renting some bikes. On our way we passed many people, but one group was special - a family with a little boy of about five years old, his older sister, their mom and grandma and grandpa along for the exercise.

The two kids were on bicycles and as we passed the boy, obviously not having mastered riding a bike yet, kind of awkwardly veered toward his sister, who started yelling, "Turn, turn, turn," so he did - straight downhill. Now this kid was really moving.

By now, Rachel and I had stopped walking, as had the rest of the family, because we all wanted to help . . . or at least see how this was going to end. And end it did.

While the onlooking family members yelled "brakes, brakes, brakes," the young boy valiantly rode his steed over the embankment and clear out of sight. Bushes shook and branches snapped and soon all was quiet again.

Grandpa was the first one after him and soon emerged with the somewhat awestruck kid. At this point, Rachel and I turned and continued on our way, not having said a word. The boy seemed OK, so no worries.


A different kind of biking

Rachel:
Despite my apprehension about biking in unfamiliar territory, we did end up renting two mountain bikes.

The walk across the island had been long, but not strenuous and I thought the road had been fairly even. However, on the bike ride back, my thighs discovered a completely different terrain. This was NOT biking the way I remembered it on the prairies!

With my mouth panting, my chest heaving and my legs burning, I somehow managed to make it back across the island, but I feared that our day on Saturna Island would be miserable. Luckily, there we had the luxury of time so even though I had to walk up many hills, the scenery was worth it.

Eric:
Our logic was, since Saturna was sparsely populated and catered mostly to the rich, on top of not even having a single campground or squatter's area for us poor, we would take the morning ferry to Saturna, bike all over the island during the day, and catch the afternoon ferry back to Mayne.

Sounds uneventful and it almost was.


Scary beasts on Saturna Island

Eric:
We rode for a long time past beautiful scenery, but after climbing many hills, Rachel needed to stop. Not that she couldn't do it, but this island was brutal for hills and we wanted to make sure she had lots of energy for the trip back to the ferry terminal.

I was feeling a little zesty yet so we decided I would proceed for a kilometre or two just to see what was around the corner and that I would come back and we could make our way to the ferry.

I was flying solo for the first time on our trip and its a good thing because if Rachel had been along I'm not sure I could have saved her too. These are the events that unfolded:

I rode with great vigour down the hilly road until about 100 metres ahead I saw a gathering of about a dozen very large birds. This is where I am, if I may, going to place some blame for the upcoming events on you the reader. I thought, oh, I should get some pictures of these wild beasts for the blog. So, I crept ever closer, coasting on the rented bicycle to get close enough for a good shot without scaring them away.

To quote the great Morpheus from the Matrix, fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.

The beasts seem to be intelligent

I got close enough, I thought, raised my camera and snapped the photo, but not satisfied, I thought to myself, well, they're not running yet, maybe I can get a bit closer. When I was sure that one more inch would guarantee their departure, because they of course feared me, I once again raised the camera and looked in the viewfinder, except they had unfortunately begun to run.

What made this interesting was that, in my uncle's words, the whole herd was not running away, but instead towards me. I being very confused, and yes scared, made haste.

I managed to turn the rental and started pedalling as fast as I could but when I moved they started making these terrible guttural squawking noises, spreading their beastly wings and they puffed up like puffer fish.

The story doesn't end here, although it is a good time to describe these ferocious creatures. They were, for the most part, black and evil like the wraiths in Lord of the Rings, but they had bald human-like heads with so much loose flabby skin it made my stomach turn. Set somewhere in between these rolls of facial flab were beady black eyes. The flab had a pinkish hue and their feet, or talons, were the same colour as their terrible scalps. To me they looked like a cross between a massive turkey and a vulture, hence I called them tultures.

You may be asking yourself how I could get such details when I really didn't get that close. Allow me to continue with my story . . .

Eric tries to be more intelligent than the beasts

I retreated to the top of the hill and somewhat ashamed and still ambitious to see what lay beyond this violent roadblock, I decided to get on the offensive.

I turned the rental toward the tultures and they seemed to respond by forming two ranks that spread the width of the road. Ugly, but not entirely stupid. Somehow, they had guessed my plan, which, of course, was to race down the hill as fast as my legs could push me, yelling and screaming, and like a primitive game of Red Rover, I would simply break through their lines to freedom beyond.

After shifting my rental into the hardest but fastest gear, I started my approach. Determined I gathered speed until the wind was freezing my ears. I yelled and screamed in their mother tongue, "AAAAGGGGLLLUUUBBBIIILLLYYY, AGLUBILY, AGLUBILY!!!" They responded by even more viciously gurgling their curses.

I got closer and closer and closer yet and not one of the tultures retreated. In fact, it was about when I was close enough to see the black eyes of death that finally I decided to retreat.

This presented a new problem. Now within only a few feet of the tultures, I had to turn around and make my getaway. I managed the turn by putting my feet upon the battlefield, sliding my bum off the seat and picking up the bike, throwing it 180 degrees then remounting, all this down with more speed and agility than I knew I had.

The flight to freedom

The tultures were now on my heels and in pursuit. Remember when I mentioned about shifting the gears on the bike to the fastest but hardest to pedal? I pushed as hard as I could and just barely got rolling.

After I had pedalled a few more times, I turned only to see that the tultures were actually gaining on me. One was even running beside me, despite a pronounced limp on its left leg.

Petrified and truly fearing for my life, I pedalled harder than I ever have. They yelled their terrible squawks as they chased me until I finally lost them.

When I got back to Rachel I explained the situation, and as I did a little Nissan Micra passed us, going in the direction of the tultures. It also came speeding back in the opposite direction only a few moments later. What a scare!

I insisted we leave immediately, as I was sure they were hot on my tail and if you don't believe me, ask Rachel. She said she could hear the tultures' war cries from where she was waiting. The rest of the ride was great, although I made frequent shoulder checks.


Back to civilization

Eric:
When we got on the ferry, it started to rain and by the time we got back to our site on Mayne Island, we were in the middle of our first real downpour. I got thoroughly soaked rigging the tarp up, but managed to keep our sleeping bags and other essentials dry.

Rachel:
Now we are in a "cheap" hotel in Victoria to dry out our stuff and, well, let's just say, a sleeping bag in a tent with an outhouse 50 metres away is not a place where any woman would want to be when suffering from excruciating cramps.


Love you all.