Honeymoon!

An inside joke developed between my wife Daphne and I on our honeymoon. Whenever things got a little difficult, like when we were biking up our fourth steep hill in a row breathing fumes from the adjacent landfill in the pouring rain, we’d look at each other and sing out “Honeymoon!” Because here we were, a month after our wedding, suffering together while pedaling through our honeymoon and laughing at the absurdity.

We married on July 20th, 2024 surrounded by our favorite people over a perfect weekend in a beautiful ceremony held in Port Townsend, Washington. The question often arose, “Are you going on a honeymoon?” Ideas were shared – tropical places to sleep within view of a beach, enjoy elegant dinners and spa treatments – but that didn’t quite fit how we wanted to start our newlywed life. I don’t remember who said it first, in all honesty it was probably Daphne, whose adventurous spirit drew me to her and kept me close for all these years. After all our deliberations and pouring over maps and potential flights, the idea of a car-free trip to British Columbia on bikes and boats presented itself.

The complexity of logistics without an all-inclusive resort quickly stacked up – gear to borrow and find, route specifics to weigh and mechanical skills to refresh, but the beauty of traveling by bicycle drew us in. No other mechanized mode of transportation can get you away from it all with greater freedom. With the right bicycle, or even the wrong one for the brave, you can ride through city streets, down dirt roads, and through old growth forests. You can get lost then escape back to civilization for a muffin or three and a shower if needed. This was our choice: a bikepacking honeymoon trip through and across Canada.

After much discussion, we chose to start our adventure on a lovely and accessible bikepacking route starting in Victoria, B.C. called the Cowichan Valley 8, found on bikepacking.com. The relatively easy entry of the route was great for us. We could ease into our bike trip with just the first couple days of 10 planned, see how it went, and be experimental with where the journey took us.

We woke up in the early light, loaded up our bikes and pedaled from our home in Seattle to the Clipper Ferry terminal at six in the morning, adjusting saddles and bags bursting with snacks as we went. We made it just in time for departure, enjoyed a fast ride past familiar islands, and arrived in Victoria excited and in time for late breakfast. Before too long we were on our way on the Galloping Goose Trail. Always on the search for fresh produce, we were delighted to find a quick trailside stop for veggies from FED Urban Farm, a nonprofit that increases food security and access to urban agriculture within the Victoria community. With assorted zucchinis, tomatoes and blueberries stuffed in every empty pocket, we took off towards the outskirts of the city.

The Galloping Goose Trail is a gorgeous example of Canada’s interconnected bike path system. Separated from the roads and usually clearly marked, these trails traverse a huge amount of Canada. It led us to the Sooke Hills Wilderness Trail, unpaved and weaving through forests, and had a beautiful ending at Goldstream Provincial Park for our first night’s sleep. The ranger squeezed us into a biker-only camping spot, we took a dip in the creek, made dinner, and winded down. We needed our rest for the road ahead.

Our morning began with breakfast, some gentle road riding, and friendly directions from a local that saved us from starting down a dead-end. It was a warm up for the next infamous section of trail – a steep, relentless gravel road baked in the blazing sun. It was only us, our water-laden bikes, and tenacity. We didn’t see anyone else for hours. The trail climbed and climbed through thick forest to higher, drier, more mountainous regions. We finally topped out in the heat of the day, drank as much water as we could, and enjoyed a rambling decent that took us along a river to two memorable landmarks, the Sooke Hills Suspension Bridge and the Yos totem pole just before crossing Shawnigan Creek, a perfect place to break for lunch. A friendly biker stopped to chat, gave us some route recommendations, and clued us in on checking out the lesser-known backside of the totem pole. It was a beautiful surprise!

After a few more miles and a slog up and down some unexpected bonus hills, we arrived at our next campground, Stoltz Pool in the Cowichan Valley Provincial Park. We were tired! Rinsing off in the river revived us just enough to make dinner and set up our tent in the fading light. Our neighbors were a welcoming bikepacking team, an all-star father and son duo who had independently and together travelled thousands of miles on bikes.

The next morning we woke up a little sore from the big climbing day before to the patter of rain on our tent and had a choice to make. Do we play it safe, continuing to Lake Cowichan and around the closer region with the allure of lazy rest days? Or do we sign up for higher mileage, more rugged terrain, and head to the coast for a more demanding loop of northern Vancouver Island and the Sunshine Coast? With lingering encouragement of our new friends who were already long gone, we chose adventure. Honeymoon! We ate as much as we could stomach and took off north to the coast, our legs warming up to the task.

Our aim was the ferry to Powell River and the Sunshine Coast Trail. Despite the sunny forecast, it rained most of the day, continuing off and on for the next few days, presenting a new challenge: how to dry out wet socks on a moving bicycle. I still don’t have a great answer other than just keep pedaling, bring extra socks, and stash a precious emergency pair in a dry spot!

Overall, traffic was mostly calm on our route, but one required section that follows the shoulder of the Trans-Canada highway made our eyes wide. Just as Daphne was scouting spots to hitchhike through it (a tall order with two people, bikes, and pile of gear) a Nanoose First Nation elder named Ray biked over to say hello. With his guidance, we heard a bit about his life as we pedaled through his waterside community then faithfully followed him onto the shoulder of the six-lane freeway. Cars and semis whizzing by, he made it look like no big deal. We were very grateful for the hospitality and yelled our goodbyes and well wishes as we parted ways.

Eventually, we made it to the ferry terminal that would bring us back to mainland B.C. and Powell River. We were soaked again, making plans to change into our pajamas to warm up on the ferry, but much to our delight, it was so windy on the crossing that we just had to stand outside on the deck with our hair whipping until we were dry and cozy again. Honeymoon!

Parts of the sunshine coast were seaside, blissfully flat and with little traffic. Other times, we were battling up steep gravely hills under powerlines and cruising through the forest on more technical singletrack. Daphne’s more rugged hardtail mountain bike was much more capable on the rougher terrain compared to my drop bar gravel bike. She said I was a great sport as we biked and hiked our way east, grateful for all the hard work of the conservationists, trail builders and communities that have kept these spaces accessible.

What always astonished me, even through all of the slogging, numb hands and insatiable hunger, was how special it felt to travel by bicycle. We got to see verdant and lush landscapes, wildlife, secret hidden beaches, and many, many bakeries on the way. Special places were more accessible because we were on bikes. Twice we took small ferries to little islands to camp for the night. Chemainus to Thetis Island and then later Langdale to Keats Island. Being obvious travelers also made connecting with curious and helpful people on the way easy and very fun. We got to eat more tasty food than either of us ever had before, trying to keep up with our body’s constant demand for more fuel. Together, we grew closer through the highs and the lows. This trip truly drove home how freeing it is to be on a bicycle. A bicycle can take you farther than merely walking and it can go to more remote places than a car. There was no other way that I could picture spending my honeymoon, and we would not have seen as much, or been together as much, if we had done something different.

More miles and more ferries took us from the Sunshine Coast to the much more developed Horseshoe Bay. After so much time in small towns, along the coast, and through forest, our next leg was something different. Starting at Marine Drive in West Vancouver, a squiggly, narrow road that goes up and down indefinitely, we knew we were out of the woods but still in for a challenge. By this point, Daphne and I were on day nine of biking. We felt strong and dialed, but like sloths compared to the hundreds of spandex-clad road bikers who migrate to Marine Drive on weekends. We had to laugh while mashing our heavily laden bikes while by getting buzzed again and again by serious cyclists trying to cut as much weight and wind resistance as possible. More honeymoon magic!

Vancouver was a cacophonous experience after so many days of being alone together in the wilderness. We biked through all of it. We dodged other visitors in the popular touristy areas, snaked through residential neighborhoods, refueled at a farmers’ market full of treats, crossed bridges into vast industrial areas, pedaled through miles and miles of quiet, tidy farmland, and finally along a beautiful waterway park called The Dyke Trail. In a car we would not have had the freedom to ride this trail, nor would we have experienced the refreshing seaside air.

We had one more night to sleep before the Tsawwassen ferry back to Vancouver Island, but with no easy campground to find, we reached out to my family in Point Roberts. They generously welcomed us on very short notice. After all of the new sites and sounds, it was comforting for our final night to feel more like home with a long shower, home cooked feast, and the chance to share our adventures with family, who were awed by our tales.

Another ferry ride and one more rainy day of riding mostly flat and well-marked trails brought us back to Victoria, our last Canadian leg of the trip complete. We picked up hot dumplings to devour and chocolate for gifts, and loaded the Clipper Ferry to Seattle, tired, soggy and satisfied. We were only a single bike ride away from home when we landed in Seattle. In proper honeymoon fashion, it was all uphill and started raining as soon as we loaded up, but we were all smiles. Just Daphne, myself, and our bikes with a warm shower awaiting and the rest of our married life to enjoy.

In the end, we biked 10 days in a row, covered approximately 380 miles, took 10 boat rides, consumed countless calories, and got one stronger partnership out of it all.   X