This has been a long hiatus between the second and third post and for that please accept my deepest condolences. I’m sure the lack of my storytelling voice has left you with many dark lonely nights.
A quick recap: Victoria, whiterock, Chilliwack. Also known as: shower, shower, shower. That’s basically how we determine the flow of days in relation to one another.
In Chillowack Jen and I met with my parents for a coffee (who happened to be in town for an Elvis gig. Long story). Unfortunately it was raining so we gathered supplies and began making our way to Hope along highway 7. As navigator it was my responsibility to lead (using google maps …) but of course in an effort to save battery power I missed a turn. We ended up riding along this large dike in the rain, through loose gravel then finally hit the highway.
There was a bridge. A relatively long bridge, with two lanes for traffic.
Luckily as we approached I saw a cycling sign which I assumed would say something like “use sidewalk with pedestrians.” But no. Instead the sign very helpfully says “CYCLISTS USE CAUTION.” Thanks for that. Seriously.
We rode to Hope in pouring rain for 50km. Now the original plan was to begin camping but what with all our gear sipping wet and it being the 3rd night we kind of lamed out and checked into a travel lodge. Not very shoestring but also we didn’t want to take the first passes through the mountains with a chill beginning.
Also we grabbed a whack of tea, peanut butter and other items from the continental breakfast.
Interestingly we met a very creepy old man at the local “pub” (which in fact was the lounge of a bowling alley. Stay classy Hope). He had more gaps than teeth and talked about primarily drinking. Also letting us know he used to carry a knife *this long* to protect himself from dogs.