On the plane with my Canon G10 and moleskine journal
It’s been about 10 days now since I got back. I’ve been meaning to get some writing done, some more photography done. Instead I’ve been coasting along on my vacation high. I’ll be back very shortly. I promise.
Paddling in Venice after midnight we pause by the entrance to the Arsenale, the Navy's docks and quarters.
Thanks to a close friend I made my first trip to Europe (outside of work) and spent last week camping in Italy and exploring the city of Venice by kayak. It was an intense and unique experience; a week I will never forget. I will be posting more images of course and doing my best to document what I saw and what we did.
The history of the city of Venice and the surrounding lagoon stretches back to Roman times. Over the past 2000 years, the region grew into a republic and major power in world history and then went into decline when attention and trade shifted to the new world. Today there are still many hints to be seen of that former glory. Three days on the water, which is the only way to see the real city, revealed a Venice that may forever slip beyond our reach if we do not soon find a balance between modern technology & practise and the natural environment that shaped this city’s history and culture.
For those who would like to visit Venice as we did I offer a caution, some suggestions, and an endorsement. Anyone who loves the sea and boats is aware that the water can also catch the unwary. This is definitely an outdoor adventure: to get the most out of it, you will need to be comfortable with some physical exertion, with water & being wet, and with boats. If you already have some basic kayak handling skills you will be ahead of the game and more able to appreciate the Venice you will be immersing yourself in. Finally, the entire adventure would not have been what it was without the excellent services and knowledge of René Seindal, historian and our kayak guide – VeniceKayak.com. Both Michael and I owe our thanks to him for a very memorable vacation.
Hi from the Sunshine Coast
.. and the sweat comes along naturally.
August long weekend and I didn’t have any specific plans. So of course I decided to hit the road and do a solo tour on my bike to Sechelt. I would also be testing out my gear for coming adventures. Mostly it was just a chance to have some alone time, away from the regular clutter, to be quiet and meditative.
That was the plan, and it mostly worked.
As usual I got a later start in the day than I had intended. I managed to catch the last express bus of the day from Stadium station to Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal.
As it turned out the 8:40 pm ferry was also late, and the icing on the cake was that they were training a new helmsman. It took him (I can only assume) a good 20 minutes of painful manoeuvring before he managed to get the ferry docked with a series of evil screeches from the tortured metal surfaces of the ferry and the dock. We all cheered when the green light came on the boarding ramp.
Because of all that I left Langdale and started my ride at 10:30 pm. Some of you who have known me for a while know that I have no problems with riding in the dark. For your sakes, yes I did have lights. I had a great ride: the air was cool and the highway deserted.
In fact it was so quiet I could hear the crickets singing as I rode along. On the highway around the bay coming into Sechelt, I could hear the surge and wash of the high-tide surf beat on the beach cobbles. It was magical.
My genius plan came to a halt though when I arrived at my destination. The gate at Porpoise Bay Provincial Park closed at 11 pm and here it was already 12:40 am. Instead of sneaking into the campground, possibly annoying the other campers or getting caught, I decided to make camp hidden in the trees across the road a little way from the main gate.
I used my headlamp as sparingly as possible, hoping I wouldn’t get busted by a ranger.
In the end, there were no worries. People really aren’t that observant. The next morning a steady stream of traffic whizzed by. I was barely 5 meters from the road behind a screen of ferns and low hanging pine branches and no one noticed me.
I rode into camp and found that there was plenty of room .. and showers! Yeah!
There was a couple next to me who were backpacking: an Aussie and her English bf. Across from me were a couple with their two boys: South African-Canadians originally from Cape Town. I had a nice chat with them as I made camp and had breakfast. The rest of the day I spent quietly reading on the beach. When it got too hot, I came back to camp, got my bike, and went into town to explore a bit and stop at the store to pick up a contact case because I had forgot mine on my desk here at home. I was making supper I made a friend, who introduced me to her friends, and then I ended up spending the rest of the weekend hanging out with them.
Before I forget I should mention the gear I was testing out. It has been well over 10 years since my last bike adventures. Some of my gear was still very serviceable, though a little dated. I include my Serratus panniers and Moss solo backpacking tent in this category. They were the best in category back in the day and still are bomber tough. I’m going to need a full failure before I can justify replacing them. Other bits and pieces in my gear closet won’t be nearly as tough to retire.
I have been using MSR stoves since the mid-80’s, so it pains me a little to write this. My venerable white-gas MSR stove is hopelessly outclassed by the latest isobutane/propane stoves for lightness and efficiency in general use, which bike touring is. I’m not throwing it out, but as of this weekend, it is now in semi-retirement. The Snow Peak stove I bought does everything my MSR did with 1/3 the effort and 1/2 the price of my MSR stove.
Same thing with my MSR alpine pot set. Way back when, the aluminum pot sets available were junk. Steel, though heavier, was tougher and cooked evenly. The GSI Pinnacle Dualist cook set I bought is made of a special teflon coated aluminum. Presto: tough, cooks evenly, and light, and cheaper. Not only that, you get two pairs of lidded cup/bowls & telescoping spork that nest inside the pot with room for a stove and isobutane-propane fuel canister. The clincher for me was that the pot bag doubles as a bucket-sink to wash everything up. Game, set, and match to GSI.
Anyhow, as I was trying out all this stuff a happy feeling of self-confidence came over me. Planning and executing adventures is a strong part of who I am; finding and using the right gear is a component of that too. This year, I was feeling down for not travelling as much as I have the previous two years. The situation came to a head a few months ago and I decided to just get back to adventuring on my own, with the means I had. I have been so much happier since that decision.
Riding back to the ferry, then on the ferry, then on the bus, we said our good-byes and when I finally got home, it felt like one of those epic adventures: as if I had been away weeks instead of just days.
