It’s august, although you couldn’t tell by the weather. The day we left for Pender, we were kitted up to the neck in rain gear and our camp crew dropped from nine to three. there is something about being the only ones to decide to do what everyone knows is likely a terrible decision that really brings people together.

Pender requires a ferry booking as even bike spots are limited. While we had time to ride the whole way from van, the rain was soaking through our gear and we bailed on riding the whole way and took the 900 all the way from River Rock. The bike bus generally rules, aside from a shitty weekends only schedule (and the hellish apocalypse of trying to get a spot as the ferries dock and everyone knows there isn’t enough spots on the bus). Even so, I think I may be giving up on the mad dash to the Massey Tunnel bike shuttle from here on out.

Anyways, had plenty of time for half-baked-super-doughy-and-overpriced ferry pizza before boarding.

The rain continued pretty heavily as sailed, I took the time to read a bit and break in the x100vi on the ferry. Still feeling super intimidated by the new camera, but about halfway through the trip, I think I made the full switch from the zv1. Might keep it around as an action camera.

There is something cozy about the ferries, I know there a lot people that kinda hate them here, but a coffee that taste like motor oil and mist over the islands calms me down and I love the liminal energy of some time in between here and there.

We filled up the water bottles and packable water containers we brought with us. About 8 liters was more than enough. Shingle bay is beautiful and definitely the preferred campground, but the catch is some gnarly hills and you have to bring your own water.

If there is a single bike-camping “hack” I can recommend it’s if you ever need water for your campsite, just fill up on the ferry, and if you want really cold water or ice for camp cocktails, use the ice machine.

After boarding we rode under a banner that said “Fall Fair – August 24” which seems absurdly early to me, but the weather said fall, so who knows. We put it on the list. If there is anything that can help me with my perpetual search for ~cozy~ it’s a small down fall fair.

There is a pretty great overflow spot for bikecampers at Shingle Bay, highly recommend. The rain had slowed considerably. So I offered to pick up some brews/cideys at the local liquor store while the crew (sat around and ate plantain chips) finished setting everyone up.

I quickly figured out that I had made two key mistakes. One, the rain immediately picked up and my short-twenty-minute-max ride to the liquor store took about ninety minutes. Turns out elevation and twenty-inch wheels are the the best of friends.

I was able to pick-up a bunch of ciders from Twin Island Cider at the local liquor store. Last year we had their piquet and it slapped, so it was an easy choice mixed with one Dark Matter to match the weather. I usually run on a seasonal beer rotation. Radlers in the summer and dark beers in the winter. Maybe the fall fair flag was right and we are transitioning into the fall.

We were able to get camp set up before the rain really rolled in. Drank the ciders under the tarp we put up above the tent, using a headlamp and Nalgene to give us some light to gather around. Stayed dry though. Our bud in a hammock was a little less lucky, needing to re-trap at 3:30 am. Maybe this my second bike-camping hack. Not so much mine, but Sam & Gordon’s, stole by me like the goblin I am.

Take a headlamp or camp light and shine it directly into the bottom of a Nalgene, the result is a nice glow that will provide something to gather around when the sun goes down. Fires are always banned in BC in the summer, so sometimes you have to make do with what you got. Gives enough light to play a little crib.

Thankfully the rain cleared after an extended breakfast and coffee.

The fall fair was classic small-town honky-tonk cute-core. Donkey shows, jam contests complete with kids categories and super nice lady that let us recycle our empties at her zero waste tent with detailed boards describing exactly how to separate your wast. Picture a quintessential fall fair with a cut-throat tea-cup flower arrangement category in a tiny little barn and chances are you close to it.

Next, we checked Twin Sails (the cidery I mentioned eariler), with my recent obsession with cozy, this place was ~perfect~. The set up is a small shed with about a 6 foot bar and a fridge on the back patio connected to the back of the shed.

In this case though, cozy did not mean simple. The cider and service was great. Our bartender guided us through each of their current ciders and we nodded along as we pretended to even know about 20% of what the hell he was talking about.

After a tasting we got some glasses and went to the “lounge?” area I guess? It’s a field seperated from the rest of the field by a fence. The seats are stumps that all surround little campfires. While a cushion might have been nice for my minor saddle sores (google it or don’t, you’ve been warned), it was super relaxing and perfect place for a couple of buds (my partner included in the mentioned buds) to lament about dating apps and challenges of ENM (Ethical Non-Monogamy).

Sidebar: Turns out the hard part in ENM is not actually having your partner date other people (not to diminish the challenges there, but once you do the work that moves from extremely hard to manageably sticky to even something you celebrate with them), but it’s finding people who want to invest in you have a nesting partner.

After we gossip-girl’d our way through a few glasses we rode back the brutal hill to Shingle Bay, had a few more sneaky ciders by the ocean over dinner and just spend time connecting.

I love this part of camping. You spend enough time with folks that connecting can mean encouraging each other up insane hills, reading silently together, sharing water, or sharing in the misery of having to use the same disgusting outhouse (Pender’s was okay, Galiano’s on the other hand, holy hell, you can tell it’s been a busy summer). I feel close to myself, my friends and the earth whenever I am bike-camping. It’s a nice feeling.

The next morning was hot and sunny, so we enjoyed a slow morning drinking a lot of coffee and chatting while packing up. Before we parted ways towards Vancouver and Victoria, we grabbed eggers out a little trailer called The Stand. Incredible. Super cheap. Super cheesy. Super greasy.

Anyways… Galiano and Saturna are another story that we can get to later.

Is it good for me to spill my guts to the static of the internet? Is this freedom and catharsis? Or am I further dividing the parts of myself that I can’t make fit together.

Who am I creating all these xeroxed copies of myself for? Every time I do, does the print get a little more fractured? Blurred and broken down in the process. If I look in the mirror will that static look back if I look too long?

Or should have I let this side of me get lost to time on the corrupt MySpace servers that held my first lines of CSS?