From Swartz Bay Ferry Terminal, we began with a paved path leading into a residential neighbourhood and crossed over acres of farmland. The path continued along the shoulder of a road which lead us to yet another residential neighbourhood, before we got to the mouth of a beautiful tree-lined dirt path with the fresh scent of the trees and mulch. Overhanging tree branches, interconnected with one another, formed a splendid tunnel vision like a pathway leading to an enchanted garden and provided shade with cooler climate. Sunlight shimmered between the trees as we cycled along.
I was stoked from riding my new Specialized Rockhopper but about a quarter of the way through, my legs were giving out until I finally had to take a break from the repetitive motion of cycling. I couldn’t even stand on my two legs after I dismounted as they felt like they were made of jelly. Rehydrating my system and giving my legs a good 5 minutes rest, I was back on again and persevered through the majestic trails of the Goose, trailing both Norm and Jay. Then a miracle happened: like Elliott carrying E.T. in a basket, I flew! Sure, my two wheels were still on the ground, but I no longer felt pain in my legs and my stamina level shot up to a hundred percent! It felt like I broke through a brick wall. From behind, I passed Norm and Jay and just kept on going and going and going.
When we got to our camp site in Sooke, our reserved lot was occupied by two neighbours; to our left was a fifth-wheel on our fire pit and to our right was a young couple chugging booze back on the picnic bench. They were nice people who welcomed us right away and offered beer from their cooler. They’ve been drinking since the morning apparently.
As it turned out, because of the landscaping changes still underway at the campsite, a few lots were moved to any available parcel of land or wedged in between existing lots. None of us were very impressed about this arrangement by the campsite administrators, but our neighbours moved their trailer and picnic bench around to accommodate us and our bikes.
By evening, the young couple to our right had brought some friends, and they had brought with them more booze from the liquor store. It turned into quite an interesting night when a particular friend of theirs’ started misbehaving, creating a riff between him and everyone else. Norm, Jay, and I were in our sleeping bags inside the tent by midnight but the “party outside” continued on for several hours after. Fuelled by alcohol and testosterone The conversations transpired outside the tent turned even more interesting when a few guys “whipped it out” to compare sizes as they talked about chicks and becoming a teenage father.
When we crawled out of our tent the morning after, the campsite as we had remembered it bore little resemblance from the night before. Our neighbour’s tents were blown away, newspaper debris were down the embankment towards the lake, and crushed beer cans were strewn everywhere. There were a pair of legs sticking out of a crumpled tent, and a guy laying next to a Honda. He was the first to wake from his sleep as we were packing up to head back along the Galloping Goose.
Overconfidence brought disaster to me. I fell off my bike badly tearing my left knee cap and left palm as I tumbled down a gravel hill. It was not very nice at all. Jay tore a strip out of his towel and wrapped it around my knee as a bandage to help clot the bleeding.
I should have expected to have an accident like this happen to me. This weekend bike excursion would have been too perfect to be believable otherwise.
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