It was late morning by the time I finished touring the village of Whistler, but Vancouver was only 125 km away, which sounded unbelievably short after my last ride. I enjoyed the cruise downhill from Whistler out to the coast, followed by a beautiful ride along the coast into Vancouver. I got into the city at a decent hour, and was mildly disappointed to find that the downtown hostel was already full. Instead, I headed out to the UBC campus and stayed in one of their empty dorm rooms for $30. I had hoped to walk around and explore the city that evening, but instead I explored the campus.
It was strange to be in the city again after riding so long through BC. The campus had big, beautiful buildings, and a wonderful, quiet library. I was ready to write, but terribly disappointed to find that there was no way for a guest to get internet access at the library on a Saturday night after six o'clock. Nonetheless, I enjoyed walking around. I stopped in a food court for dinner and went back to my dorm room. It felt just like college! Everyday as an undergrad, I would go for a long running workout, eat dinner, then sit down at my desk and work. Now I'd finished a bike ride, eaten dinner and was in a dorm room, but no problem set to work on! I actually wanted a good physics assignment that night...instead I went to sleep.
The next day I planned to make it all the way to Copefield to catch a ferry to Port Hadlock where my friend from Haines planned to pick me up. It was about 200 km away, but I planned on taking a county bus part way...then I realized that the county buses don't run on Sundays in Washington! Oh well, I thought, guess I've got another big day after all.
Riding through Vancouver was a bit of a pain, but luckily I had a map produced by the Adventure Cycling Association that showed me a good route through the city. A couple different people recommended the maps to me, and I ended up purchasing Adventure Cycling maps for the entirety of my route from Vancouver to San Francisco. The maps guided me from bike path to low traffic road, and I was grateful to be avoiding the busy highways.
I was a little South of the city, calmly pedaling along when I came to a railroad crossing. I probably shouldn't be approaching this at such a sharp angle, I thought, as my front tire approached the rail. Sure enough, my front tire slipped into the notch between the rail and the pavement, stopping the bike and pitching me onto the pavement. I was mostly on the shoulder, but hopped up quickly and looked over my shoulder to see if any traffic was coming. One car was close behind me, and it slowed almost to a stop and gave me lots of space. It even paused for a bit to stop traffic and give me a chance to retrieve my handlebar bag that had skittered into the road. I packed up quickly and was on my way again soon. Fortunately, I'd been going slow and the crash wasn't bad. My bike wasn't banged up much, and all that had happened to me was a patch of road burn on my hip. Once I got into Washington, I pulled over in a grassy spot, cleaned up my hip and taped a gauze pad over it. Then I cruised down the road to Copefield.
The ride through the northern part of Washington was wonderful! Thanks to the cycling maps, the roads weren't busy and the road gave a lovely tour of the coast. It was fun to be back by the ocean again; it gave me a sense of accomplishment.
My bike was starting to show signs of wear though...the shifting cables had slowly been coming out of adjustment throughout the trip, and by the end of the day the derailleur couldn't shift out of the middle chain ring (the middle gear by the pedals). The handlebar tape, which was already worn and torn before the crash, was now unraveling and hanging from the bar. I promised myself I'd fix up the bike once I got to Ben's. But first I really wanted to catch that ferry!
With 17 miles to go, I had about two hours before the ferry departed, and bikers were advised to get there twenty minutes early. Easy, I thought. Without stopping, I seem to ride about 15 miles per hour most of the time, so I figured I'd arrive with about a half hour to spare.
Two miles later, I got a flat tire. No problem, I've got time, I thought. I took out my spare tube and tools, and removed the broken tube. I hurried, and popped the new tube onto the rim and started pumping vigorously. After about 200 strokes I noticed that the tire wasn't inflating as quickly as normal. After 300 strokes I was forced to conclude that the tube had a hole in it. I couldn't believe it! A brand new tube! I messed with the valve a bit, and tried pumping it up again. Still, it didn't hold air.
Eventually, I turned back to the old tube, hoping to patch it. I pumped it up, and began turning it slowly, looking for a leak. I couldn't find one anywhere. In fact, the tube wasn't even deflating...wait a second...I looked at the tube in my hands more closely. There was no doubt: I had the new tube in my hands...I'd taken the same tube out of my flat tire and put it back in again! Sigh. Relaxed now, I took the tire back off the rim, put on the new tube, and pumped it up. I checked the time on my cell phone as I got back on the bike: just under one hour until bikers were supposed to check in at the ferry dock, and I had fifteen miles to go. No problem, as long as nothing went wrong.
I got on the bike and pedaled hard. My derailleur was so far out of adjustment that I couldn't switch out of the middle chain ring in front, but it didn't matter too much because with a light head wind, I couldn't use the biggest chain ring anyway. I raced up the hills and spun down them until my legs couldn't keep up with the bike. It felt incredible! It is fun to be fit, especially if there is some application for it.
Fortunately, my bike held together for those fifteen miles, and the ferry was just pulling into to the dock when I arrived. I stopped at the terminal and said, "I'm hoping to get on that ferry."
"And you can," said the worker. I paid three dollars for my ticket, hopped on, and gave Ben a call.
"You made it!" he said, "Good job."
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