What better way to disconnect—or reconnect—than to embark on a ride so daring that only an old friend would want to join. The idea is “simple”: meet up in Port Hardy and ride south to Victoria, traversing the length of Vancouver Island. With no set route, we embraced the adventure with the knowledge that the best rides often come with the freedom to get lost—not just on the road but with great company. Fingers crossed for good weather.
We arrived in Port Hardy on a sunny evening—one by plane via Vancouver and the other by bus from Victoria. After assembling our bikes, we headed to the only pub in town to indulge in a few too many beers and catch up on life. Small talk with an old friend set the stage for the days ahead.
Morning arrived with a thick fog, but we were eager to start, laughing as we passed the first street sign, which fittingly read: “Godspeed”. It was hard to tell if it was a good sign…pun intended…or a jest on that gray morning. Then came our first flat tire. A jest indeed. With a quick fix, we were on our way…to just a few more flat tires. Another fix and finally an uninterrupted ride through the rolling hills of northern Vancouver Island. The wide, empty roads allowed us to ride side by side.
Friendships often start in peculiar ways. We met as colleagues in the cycling industry when we worked in tandem as bike fitters. As is common throughout such a tight-knit community, our friendship was rooted in a mutual love for cycling. Only to be nourished throughout the years with our shared history in elite-level sport.
As we rode through Port McNeill, we found a bike shop—the only one for hundreds of kilometers. Warmly welcomed by an old shop dog, we replenished our supplies and marveled at a mural of bike frames as we signed our names next to touring cyclists from around the world. The fog lifted, the warm sun beamed, and we headed to the village of Sayward. Perhaps that sign wasn’t mocking us after all.
We spent the night on a small homestead, woken in the morning by roosters and the smell of a farm-fresh breakfast. We prepped our bikes for the day ahead amongst the most curious chickens, seemingly fascinated by the strange machines. They wouldn’t let the bikes out of their sight until we were down the driveway, leaving only dust behind.
As we climbed out of Sayward, we were greeted by a clear blue sky. We enjoyed relatively flat roads with a sea breeze pushing us all the way to Campbell River. As we rode through the town, the coastal roads gave way to farmland as we approached the more interior locations of Courtenay and Cumberland.
Long adventures foster deep connections, offering ample time for meaningful conversations and friendly debate, free from daily distractions. We discussed our successes and the harsh realities of our flaws and shortcomings in a way that only we could understand, providing solace and perspective.
Our day ended at the foot of the mountains in Cumberland, a cycling crazed town. We stayed at the Riding Fool hostel, equipped with a bicycle room and full tool setup. Dinner at Riders, a premium pizza joint, followed by some much deserved beers at the local brewery.
With day three on the horizon, we aimed for an early night. As we were settling in, conversations shifted from burnout in sport to how we ended up here and what the future held. We reflected on our relationships with past sports, lessons learned, and their application to daily life.
Day three began with an early departure. The morning sun greeted us with crispness in the air. We rode along the ocean with the smell of saltwater and the sight of seabirds playing over distant islands. As we journeyed south, we traversed nearly every Canadian landscape—dense forest, mountains, farm fields, and oceanside roads. The final day was perhaps the most beautiful, despite the wind and unsettling gray skies as we neared Nanaimo. The change of weather was fitting for the trek between Nanaimo and Mill Bay, which featured busy, noisy highways. We pushed through, nearly there.
At Mill Bay, we faced two options: continue along the highway to Victoria or take a ferry to the Lochside Trail. We opted for the ferry, getting us off the highway and giving us a short rest before the final stretch.
Off the ferry, we rode with renewed vigor, knowing the end was near and cold beer awaited. Finally, we arrived, finishing in front of Victoria’s iconic legislative buildings. Soon our adrenaline wore off, our energy depleted, three hard days of cycling finally hit us.
An adventure like this can be trying if you don’t mesh. Luckily for us, the ride was amazing. We laughed off the flats, rode in a rhythmic nature, and cherished valuable time with an old friend. Despite the physical toll, my mind felt rested and refreshed. Quality time with a friend is meaningful; accomplishing such a feat together makes it memorable. Friendship is truly remarkable.
Until the next ride, Godspeed!
