Prince Rupert to Salmon Glacier

I was up early to see the town and to be on my way back east in order to catch the Stewart-Cassiar to the north. Prince Rupert is either the world's deepest or third-deepest natural ice-free port, depending on which guidebook you trust. Whatever the case, there is a lot to see and do here. The port, located on Kaien Island and linked to the mainland by a bridge, is the largest coastal city north of Vancouver. There are totem poles scattered all around.

I enjoyed a coffee and stroll on the waterfront at Cow Bay while I watched the fishermen prepare for the day. Then I strolled through the town center before waiting for a minute for the splendid Museum of Northern BC to open. I learned about the early inhabitants and 20 First Nation tribes which lived in the area. The great exhibits and documentation also chronicled the construction of the railway to Prince Rupert. I visited the community volunteer-maintained sunken gardens behind the courthouse and checked in at a totem pole carving shed located just across the street. (Unfortunately, it was closed, but the wood shavings all around indicated the artists had recently been hard at work.)










I purchased groceries and stopped for a few pictures on my way out of town as I backtracked on Highway 16 towards Highway 37 which would eventually bring me north to the Yukon. I turned north on the highway just south of Kitwanga and drove 95 miles north to Meziadin Junction, where I took the fork to the east towards Stewart, BC. I had heard and read that this short stretch of highway to Stewart and it's twin border town, Hyder, Alaska, was one of the most scenic drives in North America. I commented to myself (out loud) that it's really true! I lost count of the waterfalls and the Bear Glacier was worthy of several pictures. A couple I spoke with at Bear Glacier Provincial Park recommended proceeding beyond Hyder for about 22 miles on a gravel road to visit the breathtaking Salmon Glacier. I put it on my list...

I couldn't guess at what industries other than tourism were powering Stewart or Hyder. I found both towns to be a bit contradicting. Signs pointing out a tsunami evacuation route were posted throughout Stewart, but the guy at the Visitor Center told me that a tsunami was an impossibility. Hyder advertised itself as a ghost town, population 55.

So I reached my 'destination', albeit briefly on this stretch!!! There was no US immigration or customs office at Alaska's border, likely because Hyder was the end of the line. There was nowhere to go beyond the town, except up to Salmon Glacier and on local logging and mining roads. The drive to Salmon Glacier was very winding and dusty but worth the effort. I continued 7 miles past the glacier to a different glacier and site of an abandoned mill. The road continued beyond that, but I didn't want to put Conrad through the ordeal, so we headed back.

I made it back to the Meziadin Junction, near the Meziadin Provincial Park, where I pitched my tent next to the beautiful but mosquito-invested lake, donned my head net, and set to work preparing supper before bed.

Prince Rupert

My internal clock needs resetting, me thinks. I was up at 5:00 AM and on the road by 5:30. Daylight is now noticeably much longer. I brought a sleeping mask to keep the light out while I'm in the tent, but it slips off during the night. I'll just have to close my eyes tighter while I sleep.

I had planned to go to Skagway, Alaska, as quickly as possible, but the more I read and talked to people, the more I became curious of a few other stops along the way, including Prince Rupert and Stewart, BC. I hopped back on Highway 97 north towards Prince George. Since Hope, I had been trying to determine the conditions of Highway 16 to the west out of Prince George and then Highway 37 (aka Stewart-Cassiar Highway) to the north. The nice man at the Prince George Visitor Center nearly anticipated my question and provided me with a map of the Stewart-Cassiar Highway including all paved and gravel areas. From Prince George, I drove 447 miles west on Highway 16 to Prince Rupert. I stopped for gas and pictures in Burns Lake.

I arrived in Prince Rupert late. But it was still light out, so I drove around town a bit to get my bearings and to see about taking a ferry to Skagway, or perhaps further up along the Alaska coast. The Alaskan Marine Highway terminal was closed for the night, but the posted schedule told me that there wasn't ferry for 1.5 days anyway. Regardless, I looked forward to exploring the town the next day. The Park Ave Campground was crowded, expensive, and poorly maintained - but close - so I pitched my tent there.

As I cooked supper, my new neighbor, Tom, popped over for introductions. Tom, 41, had been hitchhiking in BC for 10 months. He dined for free that night at the Salvation Army down the street and thanked Jesus for making it possible. He pointed out a dirty pair of women's underwear lying in the grass and told me that the woman he was with the night before was trying to torment him by leaving them there. I declined his invitation for drinks and to pick up chicks down by the cruise ship and locked my car four times for good measure before I walked up the hill to take a hot shower.

100 Mile House

My journal still needed attention, so I settled in for a morning - which quickly turned into an afternoon - blogging session at the Owl Street Cafe just down the street from my motel. I love places that serve breakfast all day. The proprietor dished me up some scrambled eggs, hash browns, and sausage for lunch.

I stayed a full day longer than expected in Hope, but it was a great place to get organized and recharge. I rolled out of town in the late afternoon with a full stomach, alert mindset, and just a vague idea of how far towards Alaska I would get. Before I left Minnesota, I constructed a travel plan on an spreadsheet that included dates, destinations, and distances. I did it in order to get an idea of how long the trip would take me - and I sent a copy to my parents so they would have a rough idea where I was along the way. Because I was meeting up with friends along the way until now, I was exactly on schedule. But from this point out, I was free to roam and go wherever the road took me.

I drove the Trans-Canada Highway (Highway 1) north towards Cache Creek. From there, I switched to Highway 97 north towards Prince George. I had never seen scenery like it; Evergreens were everywhere and the hills rolled gently in every direction. At the crest of each hill, all I could see were more hills of trees. I arrived in 100 Mile House, BC, in search of a comfortable tent pad for the night. 100 Mile House, like its neighbors 93 Mile House to the south and 150 Mile House to the north, was named for the distance from Lillooet, the starting point in a 300-mile trail prospectors followed to the Barkerville gold fields in the 1860s. Parts of the trail can still be seen from the highway.

I located the 100 Mile House municipal campground just off the highway, quickly pitched my tent and prepared supper. My neighbor strolled over to introduce himself. Originally from Hannover, he had been living in Vancouver for the last 25 years. He showed me his jury-rigged sleeping area in the back of his fuel-efficient VW Passat wagon. He complained about the traffic and the crime in Vancouver and then told me that the US should never have invaded Iraq. He declared that 9/11 could have been avoided because the airplanes could have been overridden and controlled remotely from the ground. Then he predicted that the US would nuke Iran in the fall. So time for bed!

Day of Blogging

In clean and modern facilities, I spent the day doing laundry, washing my gear, editing pictures, calling and emailing friends/family, and catching up on my blog. I fixed breakfast and lunch out of my trunk and ventured into town for dinner and desert at Subway and the Dairy Queen. I stayed up late watching TV.

The End.

The Epic Ends

Someone must have set their alarm the night before. Matt ventured back into the woods to wake me up early in the morning so we could break camp and paddle back to Toquart Bay. Due to the mice running around the campsite the night before, poor Kook had slept on top of two of the kayaks. He was remarkably upbeat the entire time despite the lack of sleep.

The tide was way out so we had a long way to carry our kayaks to the water. Having consumed nearly all of our alcohol, water and food, our kayaks were considerably lighter at this point. The water was very still on our return trip. As we approached Toquart Bay, we ran across a deer that was swimming way out in the channel. He must have been hungry and in search of food on a new island. He swan frantically and confusedly in circles as we approached.

Like the previous day, the temperature rose considerably and conditions were sweltering by the time we were back on the highway. The fact that I hadn't taken a proper shower since Thursday morning wasn't helping. But we were all in the same boat. We raced back to Nanaimo to get on the earliest possible ferry with a brief stop in Port Alberni to return my kayak and eat lunch at Batstar.

We were just in time to enjoy a little ice cream before embarking on the 3:30 PM ferry to Tsawwassen. The hull of the ship was stuffy and humid due to the unusually high temperatures. We sought shelter from the sun on the open top deck of the ferry. I said good-bye to Ethan and Kook prior to getting off the ferry. Their funny dialogues made the trip very entertaining.

Matt and Dawn drove me to Conrad. As luck would have it, he was still there! I was bummed to say goodbye to Matt and Dawn. Conrad started right up after I spent a few minutes repacking and organizing. From Tsawwassen, I headed east towards Highway 1, one of the highways which would eventually lead me to Alaska. I set my sights on Hope, BC, for the sole reason that it was represented by a larger-sized dot on my map and I guessed that it would have a good selection of accommodations. I intended to spend a day cleaning up, doing my laundry (including washing my now ripe sleeping bag), and catching up on 10 days worth of journal entries. As always, I wasn't looking forward to that part, but I always loved the feeling of completing a journal entry and organizing my pictures. I identified the wonderful, inexpensive Holiday Motel and RV resort and relished my shower. The motel was extremely clean and the bed was flat and firm. The proprietors had planted flowers everywhere.

As seems to be my habit in hotels when I'm by myself, I stayed up late watching TV (a rerun of the Swiss/Ukraine World Cup match, followed by the utterly horrible American Kickboxer). I have vowed to keep my cable TV service disconnected when I return to Minnesota.

The Broken Islands (Hand Island II)

We found that the conditions in the sound were pretty reliable; The mornings and evenings were calm and quiet. The wind and chop on the water were strong in the afternoon. The same was true this morning and it allowed us an opportunity to circumnavigate Benson Island. The conditions around the west side of the island were a little sketchy due to the fact that this part of the island was exposed to the Pacific. The surf pounded on the rocks and we stayed well away from it. It was a bit of a gripper, but I swear I saw Japan! On our return to Clarke, we watched another whale roll around in the water about 200 yards away. I swam again and then was sad to pack up camp. We were already thinking about travel and logistics for our departure from the Broken Islands the next day. We wanted to camp close to Toquart Bay so we would have only a short distance to paddle to the car. The entire team (except me, of course) hand commitments on Tuesday morning, so they needed to be back in Seattle on Monday night. We elected to do a very round-about return trip to Hand Island.

The temperature rose throughout the day and I really wanted to shed my personal floatation device as we paddled. We explored coves, beaches, and inlets. I would need to further develop my vocabulary in order to give a description justice. Pictures will just have to do. Each day of the trip, I saw eagles, sea stars, sea anemones, and various other creatures. On this day, we debated whether we spotted a porpoise or a seal rolling 100 yards away in the water. It would remain a mystery...

We arrived later than usual on Hand and were surprised to find 4 other parties of campers. Our epic campsite of two nights previous was taken, so we created our own Blue Lagoon experience on a different beach. Another delicious dinner of mac and cheese and salmon and then off to bed.

The Broken Islands (Clarke Island)

I slept like a champion, but had to leave the tent as it started to heat up under the warm morning sun. British Columbia was caught in the grip of a heat wave and we were experiencing it even on the coast. Our breakfast consisted of oatmeal, raisins, nuts, and brown sugar. We all watched in awe as Randy busted out an epic breakfast of meats and eggs.

We broke camp and set off in the direction of the Pacific Ocean. We intended to camp at one of the last islands before the Pacific. We stopped again several times to rest and eat at various enclaves and beaches. As the tide was out, we dragged our boats through a small isthmus on Turret Island. Our final push across a channel before reaching Clarke Island, our destination, was a real gripper. We stuck together as we crossed. I was closest to Matt. He was just a few yards in front of me at one point but I nevertheless lost sight of him for a few moments when he disappeared behind a large swell.

We compared the two outermost islands, Benson and Clarke, and were glad to have chosen Clarke for our campsite. We made camp on a point of white sand beach which afforded us views of both the rising and setting sun. Unfortunately, there was still no sign of Brooke. There was a large chimney structure still standing on the island, one of the few remnants of early settlers that tried to make a living there. We hiked through the forest and climbed around on the rocks on the opposite end of the island. I went for a dip and rubbed the sweat off my body with the salty water. Three other campers, a Swiss, a Swede and Italian showed up on our island. They were fun to talk to. Dawn had planned to prepare polenta for dinner. I helped. It was delicious. (I know I sound like a broken record.)

We took the kayaks out again for an evening paddle. We planned to paddle around the west side of Benson Island, which would give us an unimpeded view of the ocean. But the breakers around that end of Benson were high and choppy, so we opted out. We watched a whale roll around from a distance for a while before returning to camp where we smoked some Captain Black cigars to celebrate our good fortune.

Kook had only to deal with mice while he slept the previous evening. He was a little more gripped about the night ahead due to the two minks that had been running around the perimeter of our campsite.

The Broken Islands (Hand Island)

The enthusiastic Ethan was up extremely early this morning. Because my tent was pitched just a few feet from the picnic table and trip prep area, so was I. We were all amped to get started and paddle our way through the Broken Islands in search of our first destination, Hand Island.

I should back up a moment: The Broken Islands Group is one of three regions included in the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve on Vancouver Island's west coast. The group is made up of over 100 islands and islets and is located within Barkley Sound. There are around 10 different campsites on the different islands. The area is accessible only by watercraft and is especially popular with kayakers.

Throughout the day and over the course of the trip, Kook helped me expand my vocabulary:

Gripper: (n,v,adv,adj,etc) - Something especially challenging or engaging, exhilarating, and oftentimes scary. "Dude, that channel crossing was a gripper."..."Yeah, dude, I was totally gripped by those swells."

Epic: (n, adj) - Monumental in relation to our adventure. "Dude, are you ready for an epic day of paddling?"..."Yeah, dude, our hunt for Clarke Island may turn out to be an epic."

Buck wild: (n, adj) - Frolicking sans clothing in the general vicinity. "Dude, this little inlet may provide a good opportunity to go buck wild for a bit."

The team rallied and organized and somehow managed to pack a whole lot of supplies into not a lot of room in the beaks and tails of our kayaks. There would not be any fresh water available to us, so we needed to bring it with us for the 4 days we would be paddling and camping. The team had also carried in A LOT of alcohol, including supplies for gin and tonics and a lot of cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. (Ethan, Kook, and Matt - if you are reading this, how much alcohol was it in all?, please comment.)

Several of the Canadian campers at our Toquart Bay campsite had been collecting oysters in the area and had a few pointers for us prior to our departure from Vancouver Island. We carried the kayaks to the water and pushed off. We expected an epic and gripping day of paddling to get to Hand. We stopped several times on our way to hand to eat, stretch and pee. At one stop, our ankles were attacked by small crustaceous ankle biting things that actually drew blood! Fortunately, they weren't on every island. The weather was fantastic - clear skies and warm. There was a bald eagle on nearly every island. At one stop, I discovered a bumblebee flailing legs up in the water. After I picked him out of the water, bees seemed to follow me everywhere for the rest of the trip.

We reached Hand Island much quicker than any of us expected. With a forest and white sand beaches, it was gorgeous - Blue Lagoon-esque. I hoped Brooke Shields would show up. We set up camp. I would have liked to set up my tent on the sand beach with the rest of the group, but I needed to stake it on harder ground in order to erect it (plus, I needed a good night's sleep), so I set it up in the forest. The bold Ethan and Kook did not bring tents. Kook carried a wing (like a flexible, stake-able tarp), so he was "winging" it. Ethan brought a small waterproof bag to wrap around his sleeping bag while he slept. Poor Kook experienced a couple of sleepless nights due to scampering creatures and insects. As we considered dinner, a solo kayaker, Randy showed up. He was extremely knowledgable about the area and he prepared for his trip by packing a slingshot with glass pellets to ward off the bold and pesky crows that would prey on the scraps of food left out in the open by campers. It seemed to me to be sensible, yet a little crazy. But I can understand that when you are by yourself in the wild, you need to be more creative as far as entertainment is concerned.

Dawn and I worked on dinner while Matt and Ethan collected oysters. They were going to try them! Risotto was the main entree. Once again, dinner was delicious. Matt and Ethan went for an evening paddle while the rest of us relaxed at the campsite. Matt reported seeing a whale, so I was determined to not miss these evening paddles in the future.

The Epic

Emily had a late morning flight scheduled out of Vancouver and back to Minneapolis. We got a late start and were further sidetracked as we focused on the delicious breakfast served by the delightful, but leisurely, hostess at the B&B. Fortunately, by the time we departed, Vancouver's rush hour traffic had subsided. I was bummed that Emily had to go. We traveled well together.

I learned several days later that poor Emily's connecting flight to Chicago was delayed several hours, likely due to the discovery of the planned attack on the Sears Tower. She missed her connection to Minneapolis and spent the night in the Chicago airport. Shame on United Airlines for not taking better care of her!

Matt called no more than three minutes after I dropped Emily off at the airport. Despite a late night of packing and preparations, he and Dawn had already arrived in Vancouver from Seattle. They were waiting for me at our designated meeting point off of Highway 99 near Tsawwassen an hour early! I put the pedal to the metal and raced to meet them as I considered what I would need to bring on the kayaking trip. Under normal circumstances, I would have felt very stressed about being so under-prepared, but I knew that everything I would need was somewhere in my trunk.

We drove in separate cars to a long-term parking lot outside of the ferry terminal, where I parked Conrad and sifted through his trunk and backseat for my gear. Matt got a kick out of the fact that all of my belongings for 2 months were in the car.

We made the 12:30 ferry to Nanaimo, a 2-hour trip. Matt and Dawn's friends, Ethan and Kook, were in Ethan's truck and on the same ferry. Everyone seemed pretty tired, so we all reclined and basked in the sun on the deck of the ferry.

We raced out of Nanaimo towards Port Alberni - where I had reserved my kayak. The rest of the team had their own kayaks strapped to the tops of their cars. Alberni Outfitters had my kayak ready to go. The girl that rented me the kayak was really sick, nearly delirious I'd say, and I prayed that I didn't catch what she had on the trip.

From Port Alberni, we headed to Toquart Bay where we planned to camp and then put the kayaks in the water in the morning. Due to construction on the gravel logging roads leading to the bay, we were delayed and often unsure of our coordinates. We asked for directions a couple of times, which confused me even more. People would tell us to turn left while pointing right and nodding their head in a completely different direction.

Eventually, we did make it to Toquart Bay and the campsite. Amazingly, other campers and RV-ists had found the campsite as well. We found a nice campsite right next to the beach, reorganized our stuff, and prepared a delicious dinner of tortillas. Dawn, the group's wonderful "den mother", had planned, purchased and packed ALL of our meals. Rarely have I ever eaten so well on the camping trip. We stayed up late talking about the trip. Ethan, a design/landscaper, played the guitar and harp.

North Cascades to Vancouver

Emily and I crawled out of the tent fairly early in the morning. I wanted to explore the park a little more. Emily was inclined to push on immediately to Vancouver. We met half-way and decided to spend some time in both locations. I nominated the popular Cascade Pass Trail - a short 3.5 mile trek alongside a glacier and through a forest and wildflower meadow. We drove a gravel road for 21 miles off Highway 20 from Marblemount towards the trailhead. A sign indicated that the road was closed for the last 2 miles. I thought we could just hike those final 2 miles to the trailhead. We parked Conrad at the side of the road, packed snacks and water, and walked in the direction of the trailhead. The road was steep and full of switchbacks and Emily was not feeling well, so she opted out after a mile or so. I figured our trip was cut short, but I at least wanted to see the trailhead, so I walked on while she went back to the car. Alas, I still hadn't learned my lesson about conditions at higher elevations. Somewhere near the trailhead (I guessed), the road disappeared under thick snow. Nevertheless, I captured some great pictures (Which I have subsequently lost somehow.) So our jaunt into the woods was a little bit of a bust, but at least we tried.

So it was back to the car and on to Vancouver! Our misadventure was probably for the best as it took longer to reach Vancouver than I expected. Emily drove and did all of the talking at Canadian customs/immigration. We passed right through! Emily identified a nice B&B in the West End district of Vancouver and navigated while I negotiated the busy downtown traffic. The B&B was very charming (Emily, do you remember the name?) The kind hostess checked us in and showed us to our room.

We unwound briefly and I called Matt to make arrangements to meet the next day to cross back over to Vancouver Island for our kayaking trip. Matt recommended a great seafood restaurant in the Yaletown district. Emily made reservations and we set off on foot for what we expected to be a 10 minute walk. It turned into a 30 minute walk (we got our hike in after all!) along Davie street through the vibrant neighborhoods.

The restaurant (Matt, Emily what's the name?) was superb. Emily and I split a seafood salad and a bottle of local Pinot Blanc and I topped it off with potato-crusted halibut. Our bellies full, we happily ambled back to our unit.

Orcas

I began questioning my breakfast choices as I chomped into a heavenly cinnamon roll at the hotel cafe this morning. Humanity deserves something better than Poptarts, Sunny-D and instant oatmeal for breakfast, doesn't it? The accompanying Starbucks coffee and a glass of refreshing OJ aided the digestion process and kept me from contracting scurvy.

Whatever happened today, it would be a good day; My brother, Bjorn, is a captain in the Air Force. For the last 6 months, he had been serving and working hard in Iraq, first outside of Mosul, then near Baghdad. My family wondered and worried about him every day. He was expected to return to the States today! Everyone seemed to be giddy! It was hard to believe. I couldn't wait to talk to him.

Following breakfast, Emily and I rolled quickly out of the hotel and the ferry terminal area. The hotel was quaint (in spite of being haunted), but it was old. The walls were thin and I could hear all of our neighbors.

Our plan for the day was to sea kayak, venture to the top of Mt. Constitution for a look around, then board a ferry back to the mainland.

Orcas Island is shaped like a saddle (or upside-down "U"). We started on the western "saddle bag" and drove to the "seat", through the town of Eastsound, and to the well-protected cove of Crescent Bay. We rented kayaks from an interesting woman that knew all about the island. She gave Emily a quick lesson on how to kayak (and I listed too, because although I had done it several times in the past, I never was formally taught the proper technique.)

The water was glassy and the tide was out. We avoided rows of oysters on the farm while we carried our kayaks to the water. We paddled out of the bay, around a point, and back to Eastsound while viewing beautiful purple and orange starfish. We watched a seal for a short time before he dipped back below the water and out of site.

Conrad carried us through Moran State Park in the eastern saddle bag and up the winding road to Mt. Constitution for a beautiful 360-degree view of the San Juan Islands. We spent some time taking pictures, enjoyed a picnic, and climbed to the top of the lookout tower. Stunning.

We started thinking about our 4:20 PM ferry back to the mainland in Anacortes, Washington, and finally ventured back to the port. The ferry ride was beautiful, but otherwise uneventful. We reviewed pictures and talked a little more about our plans for the next couple days. We decided to pay a quick visit to the North Cascades National Park before heading back to Vancouver for a night. We followed Highway 20 east out Anacortes and settled in at the beautiful Colonial Creek Campground in the heart of the Cascades. We found a spot near Diablo Lake, made dinner and went to bed.

Sooke

Emily and I toasted a rain- and cold-free night's sleep with oatmeal and coffee in the morning. The weather had improved drastically since our adventure beyond Whistler on Highway 99. We packed up camp and set out to the west coast along Highway 14. By the time we arrived in the town of Sooke, our destination, the sun was shining brightly. Emily grabbed another cup of coffee and perused a cute shop/deli for gifts for her friends and family. She then visited a jeweler next door while I crossed the street to sift through the piles of treasure at a thrift store. I purchased three old vinyl records for $0.50 Canadian each. (Now I just need to buy a record player to listen to them.)

We proceeded in a loop further along the coast and then inland as Emily came to the conclusion that she could live in Sooke. It may work out well for the both of us. She could visited me in Vancouver and I'll come to see her in Sooke once we both move out this way.

We traveled a few kilometers inland to the Sooke Potholes Provincial Park. The potholes were formed in the creek by swirling water and sand that had slowly cut holes into various rocks. I made lunch near the car while Emily scouted out a picnic spot. She found a great one situated on a cliff overlooking a small beach beside a pool in a creek. We enjoyed our simple meal under a hot sun while we guessed whether a very reluctant wader would venture further into the creek or chicken out. (She chickened out.) By the time we were finished, some high school kids had shown up and were starting to scramble around higher on the opposite cliffs. They were clearly locals and knew exactly where to swim and climb. They were planning to do some jumping and were more than happy to let me take their pictures.

Emily and I hiked a little further along the creek. We met with a woman from the organization that had campaigned to make the area a provincial park. They had succeeded only two years previously. Nice work!

Unfortunately, it was getting time to leave Vancouver Island. Conrad brought Emily and I to Sidney, located on the southeast side of the island between Victoria and Swartz Bay (where we had arrived.) We stopped for a few groceries, then boarded a ferry to Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. We had to change ferry boats in Friday Harbor before floating to Orcas Island, the evening's final destination.

Friday Harbor seemed to be a bit of a tourist trap. The ice cream was expensive and I did not feel well after eating shitty pizza. But I rallied in time for our 10 PM departure to Orcas Island. We had booked a place right next to the ferry terminal on Orcas. As it was late, the staff was just leaving; They showed us to our room and gave us our key. Unfortunately, it was the wrong key and we didn't realize it until the staff had left and we had locked ourselves out of the room with our bags inside. Emily "located" our key thanks to a little reconnaissance work (some might call it detective work, some might call it breaking and entering - I planned to deny all involvement were she apprehended.) The hotel was old and supposedly haunted. The scary portrait of the woman hanging on the wall watched me prepare for bed. Creepy.

Butchart Gardens

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Ooooh baby, breakfast was delivered to us this morning! Spinach quiche, hazelnut and raisin scones, freshly squeezed orange juice, and steaming coffee all made quick introductions to my stomach. I debated asking Emily if she would just like to stay at Spinnakers for the rest of the time, but then I remembered we had a ferry reservation to Orcas Island the next day and I came to my senses. We laundered our clothes and occupied the unit until reluctantly relinquishing it a few minutes past check-out time.

We set off towards the Inner Harbor, the focal point of Victoria. We walked past the Empress, Victoria's most famous and glorious hotel where noon tea is served to tourists every day. We went in search of a semi-famous pawnshop Emily had read about in her guidebook. Sadly, it had been replaced by a store catering to yoga enthusiasts. We visited the Pacific Undersea Gardens where we watched a diver interact with many of the different sea creatures. The octopus was my favorite. Emily thought the wolf eel was especially cute.

We ducked into a couple of local artists' studios. Emily purchased a necklace made of reclaimed steel at the Raven Iron. We strolled through the Sunday street market where local artists and hawkers were displaying their wares of jewelry, leather goods, and blown glass among other things. We stopped for a peek into a thrift store on our way out of Victoria and we snacked on musaka and spinach pie at a local cafe. We then set off for Butchart Gardens, located about 12 to the north of Victoria.

Butchart Gardens is 55 acres of visual wonderment. It was founded over a century ago by Jennie Butchart in her husband's worked out limestone quarry. I've never seen such a well-manicured garden. Each plant had it's own special spot, the soil was dark and sultry, and I never saw a weed. The garden is divided into several smaller gardens which contain various flora - like the Japanese Gardens, Rose Gardens and the Sunken Gardens. The Butchart family has cared for the area since its founding and has done a truly remarkable job. We ate gelato as we strolled. Once it started getting dark, we thought it would be a good idea to locate a campsite.

We found dry, dark and densely forested Goldstream Provincial Park where we whipped up mac and cheese and tea before bed.