This is a report of my first bike tour.  It totalled around 500 or 600
miles, I don't really know.  It was actually meant to be a lot longer
(all the way to San Francisco from Seattle, via Vancouver and
Vancouver Island), but that didn't quite work out due to time
constraints and a lack of preparedness in other areas.

But anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, and feel free to send advice
and comments to me!

July 5th, 1993.

Seattle->Big Lake resort.
68 miles, 8 hours

I rode out of Seattle at 6 on the Burke Gilman to get to Woodinville,
where I met 2 older racer types who gave me a lead on to highway 9.
I was riding my sport-tourer turned touring bike*, eager to be on the
road after having to wait a week for UPS to examine my bike and agree
to reimburse me for the dented rear wheel.  (Lucky I'd bought
insurance from UPS when I shipped the bike!)

It was then rolling terrain, mixed in with drizzle, and dark gloomy
clouds.  Even the long gentle downhills were no fun, as the load made
the bike handle unpredictably at speeds above 24mph or so.  (I got to
about 28 mph at one point)

Highway 9 in Washington is hilly, with fir and pine trees on the side,
though that sometimes opens up to a meadow, or you can see farmland
with cattle, and so on.  Sometimes you can spot lumbering activities
--- whole pieces of foresty hills cut out.

I had lunch in Arlington.

I'd planned to camp at Lake McMurray, but on investigating the private
campground, found it closed to outsiders.  (I was navigating on
photocopied portions of the Del Lorme Washington maps)  At that point,
I found a slow leak in my rear tire, the first sign of trouble on my
new Avocet 700x28 tire.

(LESSON 1: don't try out new equipment on a tour)

I stopped by a store ran by a Korean and asked about campsites, and
she pointed me to one 7 or 8 miles north called Big Lake resort.

I eventually found the place at 2pm.  I pitched my tent and set up the
rainfly, and promptly got wonderful weather.  I had to pay $12.50 for
that privilege.

Big Lake was gorgeous.  Surrounded by foothills, all of which were
green and beautiful, with some gorgeous old houses near the shore.
There wasn't a cloud in the Western skies, though mountains in the
East were covered by mist.

* 1992 Bianchi Eros, > 4000 miles, Blackburn front low riders, and
rear mountain rack, Time Sprint pedals, Northface Tadpole tent,
Northface Blue Kazoo sleeping bag, Thermarest Ultralite pad, Blackburn
front panniers, Cannondale rear panniers, clothing, food, stove, gas,
and tools.

July 6th.

Big Lake -> Abbotsford, Canada

Distance: ~60 miles

Not having a watch meant that I had no clue when I woke up, and I had
no time when I left.  You know, I could get used to that. :-)

The left pedal had become impossible to clip in.  This turned out to
have been due to worn cleats.

(LESSON 2: Start a tour with new cleats
 Touring with non-walkable cleats not recommended)

The spring on my rear Cannondale panniers had stretched
non-elastically, and now it was chiefly dependent upon the weight in
the bags and the sleeping bag, tent, and pad on it to keep the pannier
on the rack.

(Disrecommended: Cannondale Overland rear panniers)

I started off and headed onto 9 again.  It was hilly, but I took heart
in the fact that after about 10 miles, I saw a sign that said,
'Sumas': 42.  The border was much closer than I had been told.  (The
general rule was that everyone underestimates distances, but this was
not true this time)

I did a lot of climbing.  After a while, however, the sun came out and
made everything beautiful.  Farms with cattle and horses soon gave way
to wild country.  The scenery wasn't as spectacular as some parts of
California, with its sudden sheer dropoffs, but it was still
beautiful.  And nothing beats hearing a rustle to the side, turning
and seeing a grey bunny scamper along the side of the road, and then
looking up to see a pair of mating birds flitting through the clumps
of branches that form your skyline.

I eventually rolled into a little town called Acme, where I took a
photo of a little place with a big sign up front called 'Acme Testing
Center' (I got a kick out of that one).  I then asked for directions
at the Acme Foodstore, though I did not buy any Acme food.  They
informed me that I had 2 ways to get to Sumas: the sceneic route, or
the downhill route.  I was getting tired, and chose the downhill route.

The downhills were long and gentle --- the best kind, though I was
getting much more confident with my bike handling.  I stopped at
Skyline Cafe and had breakfast.  There, someone told me that there was
a bike shop in Abbotsford, Canada where I could get my slightly soft
rear tire pumped up.  Great, I thought --- I'll go there instead of
camping out in Sumas, which everyone assured me was quite boring
anyhow.

I made sure to call ahead to a hostel in Vancouver to place my
reservation for the next night, since I wasn't sure that my MCI
calling card would work in Canada.  It would, but for some perverse
reason, it would not work for Canada->Canada calls.

(Lesson 3: Check with your calling card company before leaving the
country about their policies and restrictions)

Images of myself celebrating at the border soon gave way to the ugly
reality of a customs man hunting through my panniers and opening up my
bags for drugs.  Apparently, I looked like some poor, unsavory type
determined to bring drugs into British Columbia and ruining society
for all.

I arrived at the Abbotsford bike shop tired.  I was at that point
informed that this excuse for a bike shop (Cap's) did not carry Time
or Time cleats, and did not even have a Presta floor pump or adaptor I
could borrow.

(Lesson 4: If you're used to Bay Area or Seattle bike shops, you're
going to hate bike shops in British Columbia.  Everything was
understocked and overpriced.  I would eventually send a postcard to my
favorite bike shop in Cupertino, Cyclecraft, a postcard saying:

"After hunting all over Vancouver for a Continental 700x28 tire, and
for some Time cleats that didn't even work, I have the following to
say:
	I will no longer complain about Al's prices.
	I will no longer complain about Al's prices.
	I will no longer complain about Al's prices.")

I'd also discovered that I didn't know of any campgrounds in
Abbotsford, and neither did anyone in the bike shop.  I eventually
asked a woman for recommendations for a motel, but she looked at me
and said, "You're not going to stay at a motel.  I'd like to house
you, but I'm already putting someone else up.  I'll find you a family
that'll house you."

And she did.

July 7th

Abbotsford->Vancouver International Youth Hostel.
Distance: 53 miles

I got up at 6, but went back to sleep as nobody would be up, and I
wanted to say goodbye before I left.

Jim P. was a pastor, and the family in general was very Christian.
(I'm not)  So we got into a discussion about religion and such, but I
managed to extricate myself somewhat.  I wasn't going to argue with my
host about faith and beliefs.

I left at 9:30, and it was *hot*.  It was sunny, and as with all such
days, the wind blew solidly from West to East.  It fought me every
step of the way, and riding a long a major highway was very
unpleasant.

I was at the limit of my strength as I rolled into Vancouver and got
onto a bike route --- ADANAC into the city.  It dropped me into the
heart of Chinatown and then disappeared.

I then deduced that I had taken the wrong fork of Highway 7 into the
city.  I asked around for a way into downtown, and from there got
directions over to the West side of Vancouver.  I crossed the Burrad
bridge, taking a photo in the mean time, and started worrying about
both my left cleat and my right cleat.  I then found the hostel and
moved in, exhausted.



Vancouver, British Columbia

I spent 5 or 6 days in Vancouver dealing with some personal business,
hunting down what must have been the last pair of Time cleats in
Vancouver, which were also of the old style, which were still hard to
clip into and released only on the side I wasn't used to releasing on.
(Do I sound like a bundle of complaints?)  I also found the only shop
that stocked 700x28 Continental tires, bought 1, and used my Avocet as
a spare.  I took some day hikes, and rode around Stanley park (the
touristy thing to do)

I found that I disliked Vancouver as a city, having been used to
cities like Berkeley or San Francisco --- small physically, but dense.
Vancouver reminded me of the San Jose area, with large distances point
to point, where busses overtook cyclists with alarming regularity
(this doesn't usually happen to me in San Francisco or Berkeley), and
made it hassle to go from place to place.  The views around the city,
and the parks, were exceptional, but San Jose with parks and beautiful
surroundings would still not be a place where a pedestrain/cyclist
would feel like he belonged.  The roads weren't any better than San
Jose roads (and in many cases, were worse!), and the streets didn't
have any left turn signals (which hurts cyclists more than it hurts
cars, if you think about it).

Chinese food in Vancouver in general was very good (but that was
because I stayed with Hong Kong friends and they knew where all the
good places were).  A highly recommended thing for a visitor to do in
Vancouver would be to walk into the international youth hostel and
pick up a self-guided tour of Vancouver.  It'll take you to some very
interesting and beautiful parks and gardens as well as the downtown
area.

There's also a mall in Richmond, just south of Vancouver, where a
Chinese person could feel like he was visiting Hong Kong, since you
heard nothing but Cantonese, and you'd be surrounded by Chinese faces.
They have a big Yaohan (Japanese superstore) there, and a fine Dim Sum
restaurant.

A lot of Hong Kong people have moved to Vancouver, and it shows.  The
disconcerting thing, though was to visit Chinatown at around 6 and
found it all but shut down, with the exception of the restaurants.

All the while I was in Vancouver, it drizzled in the morning, and
cleared up in the afternoon.

July 13th, 1993

Vancouver->Porpoise Bay Provincial Park  (The Sunshine Coast, hah!)

Distance: 44 miles

A hard ride, leaving Vancouver at 5:30.

THe terrain was hilly, and uphills were long and steep.  My time spent
in Vancouver was also too long.

I was finally into the territory described by Spring & Kirkendall in
"Bicycling the Pacific Coast", and it was nice to have descriptions of
turns and elevation profiles again.

It rained on the way to Porpoise Bay, and drizzled while I dealt with
the tent.  But I eventually got all that done and looked around.  This
was a beautiful campsite but it sooned threatened to rain again while
I was talking to a triplet of Taiwanese families out camping.  At that
point, a park official came up to me and asked if I wanted to move to
a hiker/biker site and pay $7 instead of $14 ($14 is more than what
youth hostels charge, by the way --- most campsites in B.C. charge $9
or so per site --- in general, youth hostels are recommended over
campsites, when you have access to youth hostels in B. C.).

I also found that ferry terminals and government offices (like post
offices) give you a better exchange rate than banks.  So I generally
kept around my US currency, and changed money by buying stamps and
ferry tickets throughout my trip in Canada.  Most of the time, I
preferred spending by using my credit card.

(Recommended: ask your credit card company if they'll automatically
deduct the monthly payment from your checking account.  This
eliminates finance charges, and lets you get away without using
traveller's checks, large amounts of cash, and gets you a detailed
statement when you get back home telling you how much you spent.  This
will not work if you're travelling in areas which don't accept credit
cards in general, but even B.C. youth hostels will take Visa)

The night before was spent chit chatting with 3 Taiwanese families
learning about what Taiwanese move to Canada for.  (Immigrants from
Hong Kong can be explained in 4 digits: 1997, though fewer people see
it as a problem now than in the early 80s, or during the Tiananmen
incident)  Many were doing it for their children, not for politics,
though one of them said she did it because it was fashionable (!!),
which could simply be because of politics.  All thought Vancouver was
a much better place to live than Taiwan, though there were complaints
about the smallness (!!) of the city.  When questioned about camping,
they said they were there because they didn't want their kids indoors
all day playing video games, and some of them made the cryptic comment
that kids in Vancouver seemed to grow up much more innocently than
kids who grew up in Hong Kong or Taiwan.

It thunderstormed that night.  I could see lightning from through the
tent.  My tent leaked.  I spent the night curled up in an
uncomfortable position trying to keep my sleeping bag dry.  I wished I
had a pillow (incidentally, someone later told me I could have bought
an inflatable one and brought it with me).  I wished I was at home.  I
heard motor vehicles being turned on during the night, and cars
driving in or out of the campgrounds.

(Lesson 4: Thoroughly seam seal your tent and *test* it in California
before you leave for rainy areas even if you're going to be there
during the summer)

July 14th

10 miles maybe?  Porpoise Bay -> Nanaimo.

When I woke up, it was still drizzling.  Well, with a leaking tent, I
wasn't going to go up the coast, so I'd head over to Nanaimo and fix
my tent instead of heading up to Comox as recommended by Spring &
Kirkendall.  I found that the valve on my rear wheel was leaking.  I
was averaging worse than 100 miles a flat on this trip.

I got out of the tent and found that the family to the left of me had
disappeared, apparently, during the night to a more comfortable
lodging. :-)

I thought about throwing in the towel.

I decided that I'd go to Nanaimo, instead, where there was a youth
hostel where I could tide out the rain before heading on to Victoria.

I rode up to a gas station in Sechelt, and hitched a ride back to the
ferry terminal and got onto the ferry back to Horseshoe bay and got
there just in time to get to Nanaimo.  The guy who drove the pickup
that I hitched a ride from was a logger, and he mentioned something
about a single logger being able to cut down about 5 truckloads of
trees a day.  He wore a hearing aid and was hard of hearing, so we
couldn't talk much.

The skies cleared over Nanaimo, and I felt like I could do this trip
again.  I checked into the youth hostels, ate some food at a local
restaurants, visited the museum, and spent some time writing postcards
while watching a Chinese junk sail through the harbor.

Back at the hostel, I met a German student and we went out, looked at
the scenery, shot pool, and had dinner at Filthy MacNasty's (a most
excellent local restaurant), which had Thai Salad, a close cousin to
the Malaysian Rojak dish, and I made some suggestions as to making it
more similar to that dish.

I got advice on the tent, did my laundry (ah, dry clothing) and after
chatting with what seems like a billion people --- an architecture
student from Ottawa who was planting trees for a living this summer,
for instance...

I stayed through the next day while it thunderstormed and worked on my
tent, and met my first other long distance cycle tourist.  He was a
real macho kinda guy and looked it, and had been camping since he was
a toddler.  He was also capable of eating rice and only rice for
dinner when he was "out there."

I also discovered that the mounting on my bike computer was broken.

July 16th

~60 miles

I got up at 5:30 and rode out into the drizzle.  I rode through
Ladysmith after about an hour, and sat down at a cafe and had tea and
a muffin for my second breakfast, and then went on.

I slowly made my way to Mill Bay, on the way stopping at a truck stop
and weighing myself and my bike: 90kg.  (200 pounds.  I weigh 120.
That makes 80 pounds of bike and gear)

I wanted to take the ferry to Brentwood Bay.  I stopped at a glass
castle to take a photograph, and tooled merrily along.  Highway 1
isn't a very pleasant route, and after a couple of frightening
encounters with trucks, I resolved to be done with this section as
quickly as possible.

I eventually found Mill Bay, and asked for directions to the ferry,
and got an offer of a ride to Victoria at the back of a van.  I
declined, wondering if I would curse myself later for that.

I was rewarded for that decision with a ride down a long, beautiful
deserted road, with houses on one side, and glimpses of the bay on
the other.  There was a long stretch by a rocky beach which was just
between me, the birds, and the surrounding hills.  I picked this route
because I didn't like 1, and because I wanted to see the Buchart
gardens.  Without knowing it, I had also managed to avoid the Malahart
mountain by being on this route.

I got to the terminal about a 45 minutes before the scheduled ride.  I
promptly sat down and ate 2 bananas...

This was a small cute ferry unlike the others I'd ridden, and took
about 20 minutes and was very cold because it wasn't enclosed, unlike
other ferries.  I asked around for directions at Brentwood bay, and
finally made it to the Buchart gardens after descending a 15% grade.
(I'd better not have to climb this one, I thought to myself)

By this time, I was very sorry that I rode with clipless pedals that
weren't working.  (These are the Time ones --- I've since bought new
cleats, and they're much much better than the ones I bought in
Vancouver.  Even so, having to change shoes to walk and look around
does take some fun out of a tour)

The broken bike computer also meant that I was reduced to counting
hills instead of miles.  (The elevation charts in the Kirkendall &
Spring book were great for these --- once I was off the official
route, however, they were useless)

By the time I arrived at the Buchart gardens, the weather had improved
dramatically, and for the first time since I reached Abbotsford, I
felt that this was what touring should be.

The gardens were gorgeous, though the expensive entrance fee wasn't.
There was every kind of rose you could think of, in every color
(except black).  Their aroma filled the air.  There was a sunken
garden filled with trees whose leaves color the air contrasting and
complementing each other.

There was a shaded spot overlooking the bay, leading to a Japanese
garden of understated beauty.  And all that under a clouded (but not
cloudy) summer sky.

I was awestruck.

I looked a round, ate lunch, and walked arond some more, and then took
the recommended route to Victoria, which while steep*, didn't come
close to 15%.  I arrived at the hostel at around 4:30, took a shower,
and had some food downtown, and walked around.

Victoria is beautiful in the summer..  Lots of people down at the
wharf, where you could get a huge selection of drawings and paintings
of all sorts.  There's a guy who paints with spray cans, tubs,
newspaper, and an exacto knife.  Fascinating to watch, he does a space
scape in 5 minutes.  And amazinglly enough, given how randomly he
seems to work, he manages to replicate work on demand.

There's a guy who does pen and ink stuff, reminscent of M. C. Escher.
There's a woman who does ink and watercolors prints of her ink work,
so each watercolor's different.

There's a man playing a saxaphone at a street corner...  A woman
smoking by herself in front of the Empress hotel...

A performing juggler makes fun of his 'volunteers'...

*steep means something entirely different, I discovered, when riding
an 80 pound bike.  It makes 15% grades difficult to scale. :-)

July 21st, 1993

I spent another day in Victoria, then took the express Clipper to
Seattle, where I got rid of the 'spare' tire, replaced my pedal system
with clips and straps, and had new mountain bike shoes instead of
cleated stuff.  I got a new computer mounting.  The result of that and
other streamlining: 10 pounds less to lug around.  I also had 2 fairly
solid days of rain.

I took the San Juan express to Friday Harbor, and then headed to Orcas
Island, as it looked like it was about to rain (in the San Juans!)

I got to Doe Bay where they had a roof for us poor hostelling type,
got rid of all heavy equipment at the hostel and checked in and then
proceeded to climb Mt. Constitution, a steep 2400 foot climb that was
the hardest 2400 foot climb I'd done.  I don't know what the grade
was, but I was either worn out by the time I got to it, or it was
worse than the 6% grades that I'm familiar with near the south bay
area.

But it was disappointing.  The top of Mt. Constitution was nice, with
a nice lake with blooming lillies and lotuses, and you could see deer
so close you could touch them, but it was so clouded over with mist
when I got to the top that I could see nothing but faint hints of a
shoreline.  It started drizzling at the top, and I was too tired to
trust myself to ride down safely, and again hitched a ride back to Doe
Bay.  A hot tub and a big dinner finished off the day, and I was
prepared for more the next day.

July 22nd

Distance: ~40 miles

The next day brought more rain, however, and a ruined ferry schedule
brought me to the Anacortes ferry dock at 2pm.  I rode the 30 odd
miles to the Fort Casey ferry dock, where I took the ferry to Port
Townsend.

The ride was fine, and plenty beautiful, especially Deception Pass,
but having to rush because I didn't really want to be caught out at
night was not so good.

I also found that some of the roads recommended by Spring & Kirkendall
were closed, necessitating some steep detours.  Fortunately, by this
time I was no longer as bad at descending as when I had first started
this trip.

The night brought rain, but fortunately, I made it to the youth
hostel.

July 23rd

Fort Worden State Park->Potlatch State Park

Distance: ~55 miles

Another rather depressing day, starting off ok, but then clouds came
over the horizon again, and rain on 101 near Mt. Walker made me stop
by a bar to eat something before undertaking what was certain to be an
arduous ascent and scary descent in the wet.

Fortunately, someone offered me a ride over the pass, and I gratefully
took it.

By this time, all the fun had gone out of the trip, as battling
headwinds and being damp all the time made the idea of camping less
appealing than usual.  But I made it to Potlatch anyway, and camped
out.  It was then that I heard about hail in Oregon, and upon calling
my family in California, found that my father was planning to leave
the country on the 10th of August, and that I should be home before
the 5th to help with the trip.

Well, that did it.  The thought of cycling in California, complete
with sunshine and dry clothes, broke me.

The next morning, I hitched a ride to Tacoma.


Conclusion

1) I love bicycle touring, but I didn't like the rain.
Psychologically, not having a place to come to at night when it's dry
is more punishing than I thought it would be.  But I wasn't expecting
to see the "wettest July on record" or whatever it was that my friends
in Seattle was claiming.  I tried to stay at youth hostels where
possible, but you can't avoid camping or staying at motels most of the
time.  (Guess which is easier to do when it looks like it's going to rain)

2) Maps can be wrong.  Guidebooks can be wrong.  But things generally
aren't bad.

3) Wearing cleats on a tour where you might often want to get off the
bike to hike or just walk around is a dumb idea, unless they're
recessed cleats.

4) I'll finish this trip next year, after I've gotten used to a year's
worth of rain/constant drizzle in Seattle.  (I'll be at UW for
graduate school)

5) Next time, I might want to consider getting rid of stove and
cookware and just eat out.  I met a couple on my last day who were
touring that way, and it seemed reasonable.

6) Also, I think a friend would have helped tide the depression over
some of those rainy, gloomy days.

7) Recommended items:
	- Reynold's Oven Cooking Bags for storing items you want *dry*.
	- Some form of calling card.
	- Youth Hostel membership (which, as I mentioned before,
	  are a bargain in B.C.)
	- A credit card
	- Blackburn front panniers
	- Candle Lantern

8) Raingear.  I had a rain cape with me, and when I used it, it kept
me pretty dry and was nice that way, but it was a hassle putting it on
and taking it off.  It did work better than those rain suit thingies
would have, though, in terms of dealing with sudden downpours.

9) People are *very* nice to lone bikies.  I met so many people, made
so many friends.  I'm convinced that hostelling and/or camping, as
opposed to staying at hotels/motels is the way to explore.

Piaw
"Functional programming might not save the world, but it would
certainly screw up the world less."
		--- Adam Dingle, (UC: Student), 1991