Day 1 – To Victoria
N48º 25.261' W123º 22.121'
There are those that will tell you that it can’t be done. And there are those that will tell you that it shouldn’t be done. And then, there are those that will go ahead and do it anyway.
After 835 hours of work over 8 straight weeks (with one day off to go buy a motorcycle trailer in Airdrie) I had pretty much hit a wall. A big, hard, immovable wall. Apparently, I do have limits. Even if it takes some time, they are out there and if I push long enough I do find them. And they hurt alot when you careen into them at full tilt.
And so, having crammed a half-year of work into two months, and with the emerging reality that this in no way entitles me to take the next four months off, a break was in order. I needed some time to relax. Preferably somewhere that I could actually motorcycle. Given the tenacious hold that winter has on Edmonton, however, this wasn’t going to be anywhere near where I live. I needed to go back to Ucluelet. Apparently, I was long overdue for a fix of Lighthouse TV.
The reality, of course, is that I haven’t entirely suffered over the last year or so. This will, after all, be my third trip to Ucluelet in a year. First with Breton, last year at this time over the Easter weekend. Then with my Mom, last June. This time would be the first time that I would travel there with Dianne, however.
This, of course, presents its own logistical challenges. While Breton and I each rented motorcycles last spring, and my mother was travelling pillion with me on Wolfgang, Dianne does not ride. Nor does she ride pillion. An alternative strategy was going to be in order.
Once again, I arranged a bike with Cycle BC. Hopefully this year it will actually be the FJR 1300 that I had hoped to ride last year. For Dianne, though, other solutions were required. A car would be needed. Not just any car, however. If we were going to do this in the style to which we are increasingly becoming accustomed, we were going to need a special car. A convertible, perhaps. A Mustang might be nice. Maybe a nice red one.
Just the kind of quiet, unobtrusive vehicle one wants in order to keep a low profile.
And so it was. And it was good. But then, any opportunity to ride in shiny vehicles, especially shiny fast vehicles, and particularly shiny fast vehicles with rag tops, is good. Very good, in fact. So with logistics booked, flights taken care of and accommodations reserved, it was time to go back to Vancouver Island. The home of Princess JWo, my good buddy Dave, rocking drive-in restaurants in Port Alberni and — last but not least — Lighthouse TV. Dianne and I flew in to Victoria on a morning flight, my last customer deliverable having been despatched at 7:30 that morning. It was time to take a break. Curiously enough, this quickly evolved into a need for food. Highly unusual for us, I know, but there you are. Some days that’s just the way that life works. And so, with the top down and our sunglasses on, we headed off to Spinnakers, a brew pub we’ve frequented several times in the past.
A sight for sore eyes. Dianne looks pretty good, too.
Lunch was an interesting experiment in gender reversal, however. I was feeling a little celebratory, having successfully stepped away from work for more than four hours at a stretch. Despite being a brew pub, a little bubbly seemed in order. Dianne, on the other hand, decided on a pint of beer. I went for the rare ahi tuna sandwich, while she did the fish and chips. While I in no way viewed this as a threat to my masculinity, the wait staff were deeply confused and kept on trying to serve Dianne my food. Not one to break a trend, it only seemed reasonable to let her pick up the tab.
Checking into the Empress, we were advised that our room wasn’t actually ready. While in normal circumstances this might be considered problematic, the consequence of this circumstance was an upgrade to a one-bedroom suite. An object lesson that being friendly and pleasant to staff in the service industry has far more upside then getting snarky, obnoxious and indignant. There are many people in the world, sadly, who have yet to take this to heart.
After checking in and getting settled, the next order of business was sorting out my ride. As it turned out, Cycle BC actually had the FJR I had booked this time. Apparently, they can’t store many bikes given their current location (the back of a trailer in a parking lot) so it had been shipped over the previous day from Vancouver. It’s an older beast, with 78,000 kms on the clocks, but it’s solid and reliable. It’s also one of the models that has some serious issues with heat emanating from the engine. Given that the expected high for the weekend is in single digits, and rain is expected pretty much constantly while we’re in Ucluelet, this can only be considered a good thing.
Compared to the car, it looks downright sedate. Looks can be deceiving.
A shakedown ride seemed in order, and securing wine for the weekend seemed like as good an excuse as any. Sadly, I couldn’t for the life of me remember the wine store that Breton and I went to last year. Not that this is the only place to get wine in Victoria, mind you, but it’s a damned fine one. An email query to Breton yielded the answer ‘it’s in Oak Bay’, but no specific name. Google to the rescue, we each confirmed that we thought it was BC Wineguys on Cadboro Bay Road. For the record, and if only for my future reference the next time I get lost looking for wine, the web site can be found here.
I know we should have taken a right turn at Albuquerque.
Bike sorted, wine secured, one’s thoughts naturally turn to questions of “where’s my next meal coming from?” Tonight that would take the form of reservations at the Sooke Harbour House. Neither of us had eaten there before, but we heard that it was wonderful. And it was. A fabulous four-course meal, wines paired throughout, exceptional service, comfortable surroundings and a magnificent view of the Olympic mountains across the San Juan de Fuca straight is a pleasant way to pass an evening. If one is given to extreme understatement. And rocking back to the Empress with the top down, the stereo up and a full moon in the sky as you wind through the twists and turns of a dark road on lower Vancouver Island is a pleasant jaunt. If one is also given to extreme understatement. Apparently I am. The evening was spectacular.
And tomorrow, we head back to the lighthouse.