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Dec 21st Mental Health Motorcycle Ride

Last year I did a motorcycle trip to Vancouver to visit friends, and I see no reason not to make it an annual tradition. This year I wasn’t feeling great, I was down, I was out, I was over it all. Historically I have been pretty open and somewhat comedic about my fluctuating mental health, so no sense hiding it, I was depressed. Fortunately for me, the stars were aligning. I had just accepted a job offer starting in about two weeks, when I was scheduled to get back from my camp job. After some conversations with friends and a visit to a walk in clinic where I was seen by the most helpful and inquisitive doctor I have had in years, I decided to skip work and take the trip to visit friends and family. At first my work tried to strong arm me by saying I had exceeded my days off quota with my schooling and my trip to Peru. There was a pang of guilt until I remembered they had denied me a raise after that schooling. I forwarded them a doctors note and packed my saddle bags. This cowboy was riding off into the sunset.

Going West

My trip started Sunday morning at a bike meet at a coffee shop, I had expressed some concerns and trepidation about the trip and was met with “oh no, you gotta go, that sounds awesome”. I went home, loaded the bike and headed west for the worst part of the trip, Edmonton to Jasper. Day 1 of any trip for me is the worst, its 4 hours in a straight line on the highway to the mountains, the hardest part is staying awake. Fortune laughed and decided it owed me a little fun, if that were to be my attitude. Just west of Edson I heard a loud bang and looked in my mirror to see my possessions strewn on the highway behind me. Hard on the brakes and a quick shoulder check, I parked on the shoulder and assessed the situation while grabbing what I could off the road between vehicles. After some swearing and investigating, I had discovered that the two aerosol cans in my saddle bag had exploded. One was glass cleaner for my visor and one was lubricant for my chain. The explosion had taken my emergency tool kit, bike cover, shampoo, and shower gel. The shampoo upset me, it sounds silly but it was one I had bought in Nepal and only used on special occasions because I cant find it here. I could smell it up and down the highway and I collected the melted garbage and sorted through the tools. Of my emergency kit most of my hand tools survived including, miraculously, a cheap electric tire pump I bought off amazon for $35. Concerningly though, I did lose my spare tire tube. Like a panicked child I called my dad, before he answered I recalled my age and realized I was in fact on my own on this one. For a brief moment I felt like a child that had crashed his pedal bike. We had a laugh about it and I sent him some pictures. Next I called Natalie and had a similar conversation. I considered turning back but needed to say it out loud. It was the one time this blog made a trip better, without it I would have gone home but I realized that wouldn’t be a story. An explosion four hours into the first day, THAT is a story, but it only counts if I keep going. Get the bike back on the road, re asses in Hinton, get to Jasper, make a decision in the morning, that was the plan. With my Leatherman I cut what was left of the saddle bag off the bike and packed what survived into my other luggage. Thankful me and the bike had survived and that of the four bags on the bike, that was the most ideal one to explode because it was mostly consumables. I would have felt horrible if I had lost Natalie’s sweater in an explosion (I brought it back to Canada from Peru because her luggage was full). She would have forgiven me, I’m sure, but I still don’t like to incinerate my friends clothes, I’m told that’s bad manners. As a fun exercise, next time you travel, ask yourself, which bag would be the best to explode and how would you proceed from there? It might help you lighten your luggage, I learned I didn’t need to be dragging along a bike cover.

In Hinton I checked everything was holding together on the bike, and it was. I was also surprised at how well the bike was handling, initially I had concerns that the uneven weight distribution would cause problems but I didn’t notice anything. At the Jasper campsite I was given a spot beside two older gentlemen on cruisers, they offered me a beer and we got to chatting, they were amazed by my story. The decision to press on was made, I had to see this through, I had been shown I can overcome and shown that I clearly over-packed, a difficult trip is what I needed to get my head right. The relaxing at a resort vacation never did do it for me, I need a goal or a challenge, I needed a win and this was one I would fight for.

The next stop on my itinerary was at my aunts house in Cache Creek. The entire drive I was vigilant for any and all noises and made constant stops to check straps. There was also some anxiety in me, I don’t see my aunt very often and usually when I do its part of a group setting. All my worries melted as I pulled into the drive and she gave me a good hug like only an aunt can. I told her all about my trip so far and she took me for a drive in her ’65 Pontiac and showed me around town. For those who don’t know, my first car was an ’86 Pontiac and I briefly owned a ’64, so I have a soft spot for them. We had sandwiches for dinner at a local diner and we stayed up good and late telling stories in the back yard while she watered her grass, thankful I didn’t turn back. The part of the trip reminded me of the importance of family and staying connected with them.

Sadly my schedule only allowed one night and in the morning I was off the Vancouver to visit Natalie and Cole. I took the sea to sky highway, a route known as one of the best in Canada for motorcycles. In the town of Pemberton I found a bike shop, they didn’t have the exact tube I wanted for my spare, but they consulted the charts and found one that would work in a pinch. My understanding is its a bit heavier duty for off road use, fine by me, I’m not high speed and I want rugged and reliable. I also made a point of stopping at the little café in Lillooet I had discovered last year, it was just as good this time around.

Traffic into Van was bad because it always is. Shortly after arrival I got off my small motorcycle and into Cole’s pickup to retrieve his camper. The camper in question was a monster after my own heart, a GMC Topkick, which is a large duty truck usually with a dump box or crane mounted on it. This one had a fifth wheel camper mounted on the flat bed with sheet metal skirting to allow for a lot of storage underneath. After a few days camping with them the only flaw I found in the design was that the door to get in required quite a set of stairs. We got the RV back to the house after a stop for dinner and a failure to start resulting in some batter swapping to get us going. Battery issues would plague us this trip, unfortunately.

Tofino

Cole and Natalie took the camper and I followed on my bike. We hopped the ferry from Richmond to Nanaimo and headed north. Construction delayed us about an hour, but we did stop and see Cathedral Cove, a patch of large old growth trees and we made a short stop to wade into Sproat Lake and see some rock carvings. Our campsite in Green Point was nice, but perpetually damp and in the shade which made tent camping somewhat unpleasant for me. At night I would lay cold and listen to the furnace run in the RV and I decided I needed a camper van for next year. Natalie had two friends camping nearby and we spent a lot of time with them in Tofino. The first day there I rented a surf board, as everyone else had their own already, and we all did our best. A few people caught waves, not me, but some people did. We went again in the morning and I did a little worse I think but overall it was still really fun. One of the days was spent exploring Tofino and Ucluelet, I bought a sticker and some post cards. It was nice to get some exercise and try something new on this trip and I realized that maybe I need to allow myself a little luxury beyond a tent next time.

We also did a short day hike I had read and dreamt about years ago. We hiked off the main highway to see a crashed airplane, my understanding is it had been there for decades and no one was killed. It was covered in graffiti but fun to climb through and while there we had seen some stellar jays, I had never heard of them, but I am new to bird watching.

It was fathers day and we decided to visit Natalie’s parents on the way back. They lived just south of Vancouver, I think, so we took the ferry to Victoria. On the way there, the Topkick broke down and Cole had to do a quick battery swap on the shoulder. His speed made me think he may have worked on a race pit crew at some point. Once on the mainland, we stopped at a grocery store for supplies and the thing again wouldn’t start. Natalie’s dad showed up with his vintage truck and gave them a boost. For his efforts, we made him a dinner of barbecued burgers, he seemed happy with the arrangement. After dinner some time was spent in his garage, we were all chatting about this and that but I was simply too distracted by all the hotrods, antiques, and collectables in there. This man was a true collector and had been doing it a long time. Eventually it got late and we had to leave.

Sunshine Coast

I left my camping gear at Cole and Natalie’s and borrowed a spare motorcycle helmet from them. I drove my bike onto the Ferry and Natalie walked on. On the other side I drove to Vanessa’s and Natalie caught the bus, unfortunately I couldn’t fit a passenger and my gear. Vanessa was there as a travel nurse and was staying in a walk out basement suite with an amazing view of the ocean. We walked to Sechelt along the ocean and had dinner in town. We got back to Vanessa’s just in time for me to pull the gear off my bike and give Natalie a ride to catch the last ferry of the day.

Vanessa and I took the bike north to Pender hill and did the short hike to the viewpoint. I had purchased a sandwich at a café that morning and we split it while looking down at the boats in the bay. She asked, casually, how fast my bike goes, I responded “oh not very, top speed is about 160, but we were going slow, about 60 on those curves” “oh” she said “yea it felt kinda slow”. Every bike guy I tell this story to laughs, as do I, I guess not all bikes give off the cool bad-boy vibe. I have since found myself combing Facebook marketplace looking for a 1000cc sport bike. That night we had some leftover risotto and I baked us some cookies, we split a bottle of wine and watched TV. It was a nice relaxing evening.

On my last true vacation day, Vanessa and I took the bike to Gibsons. We wandered the marina, and window shopped the stores. I got some earl grey ice cream and she had a coffee. From there we went to the grocery store and hauled a backpack full of goods on my bike back to her house and I made burgers yet again, and they were just as good. It was an early night, Vanessa had to work in the morning, and I had to drive home. I didn’t feel ready for home, I never do on a trip, but these few relaxing days of calm motorcycle rides along tree lined roads and making good food were the best thing I could do to prepare myself for a vacation to end. Luckily for my mother, Sunshine Coast housing is wildly expensive, so, as tempting as it was to just stay forever, I had to come home.

Going East

With the gear all loaded, I thanked Vanessa for letting me stay and headed to the ferry. I was at Natalie’s in time for a quick breakfast and to drop off the helmet and get my gear. Retracing my route on the sea to sky highway I returned to my aunts house in Cache Creek. As I neared town I noticed a lot of unique and highly modified cars on the roads. My aunt informed me there were races going on in the area and her town was on the circuit. We went for a walk to see a few and she showed me more of the town. Sadly, it was an early night. The morning brought with it rain and a long day. Just before Jasper, rain moved in so I put on all my rain gear and prepared for the worst, and the worst it was. A torrential downpour soaked me to my bones. It felt like I was being punished by Poseidon. I rolled into Jasper on fumes literally and metaphorically, at the gas station I struggled to get my now tight leather gloves off to fuel my bike. Passersby gave me sympathetic looks, they knew I was having a rough day. My next stop was a place called Lou Lou’s, I went in, water squirting from my shoes with each step and pouring out of my sleeves. I ordered a slice of pizza and a soda and had a seat. Water pooled around me under the chair. I peeled off as much gear as I could and used the washroom. Now at least my hands were dry, but still cold and weak. The food warmed me up and the sugary soda gave me a boost. After delaying as long as possible, I re-equipped and climbed back onto my Royal Enfield. The rain somehow got worse, I would put my head above or beside my windshield to blow the water off and had a constant battle with semi drivers who seemed rather insistent on being right in front of me. I wished I had enough horsepower to just fly away ahead of these trucks, this was the second time this trip I had wished for a faster bike. Once home, I backed my bike awkwardly into its spot in front of my car. Out of sheer necessity and will power I stripped everything off my bike and hauled it in, I often dream of being wealthy, but in this moment, I cursed myself for not being able to afford a garage, I could have just pulled in, and left it until morning. I had a hot shower, followed by a hot bath and then slept hard. True to tradition, the stretch between Edmonton and Jasper was a miserable trial, but I survived it, and somehow, that made me feel better, knowing I wont melt in the rain on a bike.

I dont know what this trip did for my mental health, I felt better in some way and worse in others. I was reminded I had friends and family, but also reminded they were all quite far away. And those friends were just friends, my apartment here was still just as empty with only me in it. The new job turned out to be great, with wonderful coworkers. This trip ended up being another fun thing to talk about with my motorcycle friends. They’ve all been on great trips over the years so these sorts of things give me more credit with them. I still consider myself an amateur, but Billy, Taylor, and Joe tell me I’m not an amateur anymore, and that carries weight in my mind. I guess if you’re sad, go for a motorcycle ride and see what happens.

Technical

I have no real solid idea why my saddle bags exploded. After the trip I found that all of the bolts holding my exhaust together were a little loose which may have angled the muffler up slightly. I think that combined with the saddle bag slipping a little low allowed it to overheat the aerosol cans. Melting holes in universal soft sided luggage is a common problem, I just happened to have two explosives stashed in those bags. The air pump that survived is still for sale on amazon here and its actually gone down in price.

There’s more information on the plane crash here. If all you’re curious about is the model of plane, it was a PBY-5A Canso (I think), a unique amphibious plane, in my photos you can see where some of the landing gear would have retracted into the sides as well as the top mounted wings.

I have not yet bought a faster motorcycle, I dont have any plans to, but if I see one for the right price, I just might have to.

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