VANCOUVER ISLAND

DAY 85

MONDAY 27 JUNE 2016

VICTORIA - SALT SPRING ISLAND (MOWHINNA CAMPGROUND)

1030 -2115

81.2 km (50.46 miles)
Av. Speed: 15.8 km/h (9.8 mph)
Max. Speed: 67.8 km/h (42.1 mph)
Time On Bike: 5h 08m 28s

Monday morning had me back on the road and looking ahead to the next 10 days of travelling Vancouver Island.

This is the final leg of my journey and I will finish in Vancouver next week if my schedule holds up.

I pedalled out of Victoria just after 10.30 via an initial breakfast stop in James Bay.

BUTCHART GARDENS

Although my destination for the day was to be Salt Spring Island, I was immediately headed towards the Butchart Gardens, which had come highly recommended as a place to visit.

As a "Designated National Site of Canada", I was keen to see what all the hoo-haa was about.

The "Galloping Goose Trail" was the most practical and direct route out of Victoria and probably the safest as well.

I was able to clunk my way through on quite a warm morning, making the obligatory number of fuck-ups and getting a little hotter under the long tights at each wrong turn.

Still, the trail was a good one and it got me to the gardens in around 2½ hours.

The entry fee I thought from the outset was a little steep - $33 with taxes - and once inside, I was convinced of it.

On a warm afternoon, I just couldn't find the right mood to bustle through the narrow avenues of the gardens with 2 or 3000 other tourists.

The gardens themselves were difficult to come to grips with as well.

I am normally loathed to compare one travel experience against another - it is not sound counsel as I see it.

But my immediate feeling was a complete absence of any kind of "WOW" factor here.

Perhaps it's a measure of some of the incredible places I've experienced on this tour (Yosemite and Olympic National Parks being the standouts) and also other amazing places I've visited over the years.

I could not seriously consider that these gardens, as "pretty" as they are, were even in the same stratosphere as the Shrine of Bab and the Baha'i Gardens of Haifa in Israel.

Certainly the Umpherstone Sinkhole in Mount Gambier, South Australia is by degrees, more naturally dramatic than the so-called "Sunken Garden" here.

And the tipping point for me was sitting on a bench for over 20 minutes overlooking a man-made water feature and Butchart Gardens highlight called the Ross Fountain and counting in the dozens the number of people goo-ing and gaa-ing as though they had never seen anything like this before.

I've seen Lake Burley-Griffin in Canberra back home and nothing does man-made like LBG.

With time ticking and no desire to mingle any longer than necessary with hordes of coach-tourists, I made for the gates.

I made a point of at least taking a few snaps before heading out.

ROSS FOUNTAIN, BUTCHART GARDENS

SALT SPRING ISLAND

SSI was probably Plan C, truth be told.

Stef and Zack had recommended it as a preferred route to the north, in lieu of taking on a 1200 ft climb through Malahat to the west or indeed my next preference which would have been the ferry across from Brentwood Bay to Mill Bay.

I had spent a good portion of Sunday afternoon scoping out my route and accommodation options for the next 10 days - something I normally avoid - in order to make good time to Vancouver and allow myself a full week there when I arrive.

Mowhinna Campground on Salt Spring was my chosen venue and I had locked everything in via email over the weekend.

Zack had also suggested I take the "back route" up to Mowhinna to avoid the traffic along the Fulford-Ganges, which is the island's main artery.

Fair call, but in hindsight a huge mistake to take it on without a GPS.

It was already late in the day when I alighted the Swartz Bay Ferry in Fulford Harbour - 7.35 to be exact and I knew there was a solid hour's riding still ahead of me.

ON THE SWARTZ BAY FERRY TO SALT SPRING ISLAND

ARRIVING ON SALT SPRING ISLAND

I also knew there to be a tidy 500 ft climb straight out of Fulford Harbour which was another reason I opted for the back road.

Using nothing more than a sense of direction, I knew I had fucked up big-style when I dead-ended at Ruckle Provincial Park at about 8.20.

It was an easy 5 km back to the turn I knew I had missed and a good hearty climb to get there.

The last time I got off and pushed was in California as far as I can remember and the plethora of short sharp pinches on this back route were now providing plenty of opportunities to do so.

By this stage, I was both sweating and stressing as the daylight hours advanced and I had no idea how far I actually was from home.

Another ambiguous junction caused confusion and I had no choice then but to take a punt, fortunately crossing paths with a local less than a kilometer up the way.

The young lady was able to confirm that I was at least heading in the right direction and I may not have been as far away as I thought.

For only the third time on this trip, I was forced to use my headlamp as the sunset had gotten in first although once re-connected with the main road, it was no more than 10 minutes to Mowhinna on the happy side of the hill.

9.15 was a just little later than I had planned to arrive and my hosts I'm sure had given up.

A hot shower was my reward for the last stretch of toil and trouble, which with time again I would have done everything to avoid, primarily by sticking to the main road.