Coastal Adventure Day 10: Qualicum Beach - Nanaimo

Monday, September 18th, 2023

I awake in my tent at first light. My body is sore and beginning to protest against the pace of my journey on which I have taken little time for self-care. Under warm and blue skies I set about repairing my wounded rear tire and packing my things. My host comes out to see how I'm doing and it is at this point that another synchronicity presents itself. The gentleman, a retired Air Canada mechanic, is in the midst of throttling his twilight years with a life full of adventure and entrepreneurship. He and his wife, having moved to the west coast ten years ago, belong to a community of retired out-door enthusiasts who take on multi-day hikes, kayaks and other adventures, exploring their adopted surroundings and building community. Beyond this he has been collecting used and beaten bikes, repairing them and selling them to neighbors and friends, renewed for the smallest of profits. He has even waived income to those who come to him in need. His skill is evident as he proudly shows me their garage; his rescued steeds glisten in the light of the morning. My tire quandary is trivial in light of this discovery; it repaired within moments and I am soon off, full of gratitude and new energy.

With a lighter spirit, I head down to the beach. It is time for breakfast; this is what I came here for. This time my americano is accompanied by ready-made oats with chopped dates, almonds, hemp hearts and a good dollop (or two) of some nutella spread. I am finally on my own and it is perfect.

For several years now I have given in to an annual compulsion to do a big one-day ride over to Vancouver Island and back via Nanaimo and Victoria either observing a clockwise or counterclockwise route. This is significant because I have family in Nanaimo and on each of these trips have not stopped to say hello or to check on them; indeed I have not spoken to them for over thirteen years. In years past I simply did not have the courage to face siblings I had raised through my teenage years, who were like my own children and who I chose to leave for reasons that I will not weigh you down with, dear reader. Suffice it to say that in previous years I rode as quickly as possible through town and did my best to give it little thought. This year is different and with it I have received grace and strength heretofore unclaimed. I am grateful that this year has been the aggregate of much personal growth and new stability and perhaps this very journey represents an extension of those factors in my life. Today I go to be with a family that I have not seen in a long time.

I ride with speed and power. The winds, which the day before had been my adversary, now bow out of my way or soar at my back. I put some music on and push the pedal all the way into the floor. My ride is aggressive and feral; I am a small animal on a highway that is ridden with larger beasts. Cars and trucks speed by at close proximity; adrenaline and heat course through my blood; I feel the fear but I also love the intensity. I only stop to capture the beauty of a forest-canopied path and the character of a graffiti-laden tunnel.

I arrive at the home of one of my brothers. He is now twenty years of age; the last time I saw him he was seven. In short order, two more take pause in their respective days to come say hello. I am taken completely by surprise at the ease with which we converse, the grace and maturity with which my younger siblings carry themselves and frankly, just how fucking cool each one is. The remainder of the evening is taken by new tales of friends, adventure and tastes; how each of them is moving through life and where their respective aspirations lie. I share some of my own tales but mostly listen. I am rejuvenated beyond expectation.

Our meandering conversation goes well into the wee hours of the morning and with great pride I note as each one leaves of their own accord, to their own lives and prior engagements. My heart is full and I am exhausted; another day will go by without writing. This journey has not followed my forecasted path; I am beginning to accept this.

Until tomorrow,