Port Hardy: halfway there!

Howdy folks!

After 700km of cycling, a dozen or so performances, and only one flat tire (so far), we have arrived in Port Hardy, the northernmost point on our route. This marks the halfway point of the tour in terms of both time and distance. I feel like I'm finishing the longest month of my life, and am not sure what to think about the prospect of one more. You have a lot of time to think while biking, and I believe I may have done too much of it, because even though I feel good about this tour I'm much further away from figuring out the next steps in life. more on that later.

Woss and Port Hardy have brought us the surprisingly harsh challenge of working with an elementary audience. Just when we'd gotten accustomed to answering smartass questions from fifteen year olds (My favorite question: are you Free-gans? answer: yes. do you have any pie?), Our performance isn't great, never was and never will be. Occassionally it's good, but for elementary kids most of the urban-teenager content is lost completely. It is, however, a great time to be playing the toilet. I got more laughs than the rest of the performance combined when I was sat upon and then left unflushed. they call me mellow yellow.

Today, we'll start retracing our steps and return to Port Mc Neill, catcalling capital of Vancouver Island and home of the World's Largest Burl (a tree-tumor. it's massive.) It's a short ride to get there, about 46k, and my stinkiness will continue to build during days 6-10 of the camping stretch. It's also where we had our tours of logging camps and operations, but I'm finding it hard to write about all that at the moment. it will come.

until next time! :)G

Campbell River to Sayward

Today's ride was good. long. but good. A little challenging in length (85k), but not in height, and it feels like an accomplishment. I needed one of those.

I'm starting to see the value in biking. I feel I know this island now better than some of its residents. Its gradual slopes, fifteen mile downhils that blow you away when they just keep going and going. The mountains ahead, I'm singing "The Sound of Music" at the top of my lungs, surprisingly on key and still happy to be riding alone so no one will catch me in this embarrassing euphoric expression.

I rejoice in the things I'd never see in a car. The marten and the turkey vulture that took off a few feet in front of my tire. The way that old forests smell different than new ones. The muted greens and browns of the clearcuts, the greys of concrete and cloudy skies, with an occasional blue peeking through, beautiful but not spectacular. The colors subdued, blending, spiked with occasional orange marking tape, yellow flowers, a red barn, their contrast making more impact than they deserve.

At least once per ride, I stop on the side of the road to take pictures. They never do justice to anything other than my poor photography skills, but it's a nice break and a reason to appreciate the best moments. I'm so much stronger than I was a week ago, and I want to make riding mine, keep it, and not let these muscles melt with desks and winters.

Climbing into my sleeping bag, my body is tired and my brain follows. It's been a good day.

Ridin' the Sunshiner

boy howdy folks!
It's been a sweet week here, and the Sunshine Coast is finally living up to its name. it's been beautiful, we camped in a city park and spent the last two days sleeping in a high school gym, which has been great (and has showers. woohoo!)

First off, I have a confession to make. i've been wearing spandex. almost all the time. and i really like it. check it out.


I'm about to get out and enjoy my short bit of break time, but i wanted to post some pictures from yesterday's ride. We'd presented in Gibsons the day before, and took a mid-ride break in Robert's Creek, the absolute most beautiful town I've ever visited. the entire "downtown" consists of about four buildings, one being a small wooden shopping center consisting almost entirely of health food stores and an organic bakery where i celebrated the ride with some deep-fried pakora goodness.

A few of the kids from the local school rode part of the way with us, and here are a few pix from the ride...Alright, that's all for now. Time to go enjoy the sunshine!

On the Otesha Train

So it begins. My bicycle is caked with a thin layer of dirt, my lungs with a thin layer of mucous and my legs with the first hints of muscle.

It turns out that my first two sunny days in Vancouver, while amazing, were an anamoly and were not to be repeated, at least for a while. As soon as I moved out of the warm friendly happy hippy house where I've been hosted for my first couple days and into a tent, it began to rain. It was fun at first, a great chance to test out all my gear and see if it's water proof (the tent is, the raincoat is not), and another reason to feel super-hardcore about the first few days of living my live almost entirely outdoors.

Unfortunately, my body responded to the coldness and wetness by developing the annual late-April cough that I thought I had missed. A scratchy throat on the first day has turned into full-fledged coughing that sounds a lot worse than it is, but it's not an ideal way to start a trip.

My teammates have responded beautifully and generously, checking in on me and offering a full array of miracle cures, including frequent cups of tea, vitamin C supplements, various cold medications, and the insistence that eating a clove of garlic a day will cure everything (except halitosis.)

Despite a bit of sickness this week has been truly incredible. Like most training weeks, we've been kept so busy I can barely remember what we've done. Those of you who know me well will be shocked to know that on two days I VOLUNTARILY woke up at 6:30 am for "superstar training," which includes running, stair climbing, squats, and a beautiful Yoga session in the sand complete with a rare live performance of ocean waves and chirping birds.

Also in the training week tradition, we've subjected to an accelerated getting-to-know-you as we meet our 20 new best friends, the people that will define the next two months of my life. They are great people, as expected, with quite a few common values, uncomon levels of openess, and impressive individual commitments to making this trip work.

On our very first night, before we really knew eachother at all, six of us stood in a circle, huddled for warmth... Mike started to beat box and before we knew what was happening the space between us had erupted into a constantly evolving music made only from ourselves. It went on for a few minutes before breaking down into awed and somewhat self-conscious laughter, and someone named our triumph "Organic Beats". Since then music, games, and creation have been a constant presence on our trip, the art that I'd been missing and come here to find. with this as a starting point, i can't wait to see how this group evolves.

As always there is more to write about than i have time for in my one day off. We've been staying on an organic farm and learning about how it works, I saw a bike-inspired dance troupe called the bicyclettes (or B.C.clettes) and they were awesome, wherever I end up living I would love to start one up. We're developing our play and our first performance is tomorrow (I am playing a toilet. seriously.) we've spent hours making our rules and fiid mandate by consensus decision making, a painfully slow process that makes me want to gouge my eyes out sometimes, but overall feels good. I am so happy to have had a day off and slept in a warm bed. thanks Brendon. Today I will go get a sleeping bag liner so this doesn't happen again.

Tomorrow this trip begins in full, and I can't wait to get in gear. We have a performance at a school in the morning (eek) and then we ride about 24k and take the ferry to Gibsons, BC. It's time to see what's really in store.