Day 18

Do not continue... start over.

Round two... Fight!

Called Canada... who would have guessed that after a holiday they had so many calls that I was on hold for almost fifteen minutes while breafast got soggy in front of me. Finally got through and transfered to BC where the lady sounded shocked that my Short Term Autorization to Transport for Non-Resident had been in there offices for a month and I hadn't heard anything yet. So I got to talk to the voice mail again. At least now I can eat breakfast, but I still have no idea if I'll be able to get into Canada today. At the very least I might have to ship my firearm back to my folks so they can ship it back to me in Alaska. Not ideal at all.

So, it's wait on Canada day, which is almost a national holiday, but at least they will call back, it just takes them some time.

I flip around the tube for awhile, never much on in the mornings, but just as I'm getting into a program, my phone vibrates off the table onto the couch. Lucky for me it wasn't the floor. Who left that thing on vibrate anyway? It's Canada, supposedly the lady on the other side of the speaker called me sometime (she didn't have a date written down) that some of my information needed clarified. Basically the "Temporary" part of the license means at most five days. Now I know, good thing it's written somewhere on all the paperwork I've filled out. As soon as I say that five days is fine I've got a new message in my inbox that says I'm go for traveling northerly.

After lunch, I packed up, said goodbye to Dee and Wally, and expected a large delay at the boarder. Not only because it's the day between Canada Day, and Independence Day, but because of the horror stories I've heard about Restricted Firearm transportation. When I arrive at the boarder there's a line of a few cars, but not as bad as I expected. Before the customs agent can ask if I have anything to declare I tell him what I'm declaring, and he just about rolled his eyes at me. I didn't have to tell you guy, but thems the laws.

After the standard, how long, what are you bringing, can I tax anything you have in your vehicle questions, he directs me to the staging area with the other agents inspecting other people that have been pulled to the side.

Almost immediately I'm asked to exit the vehicle. I don't see any of the other drivers doing the same ahead of me, this could get interesting. More of the same "Can I tax you questions." and a "Where and what state is your firearm currently in." question. Of course I've followed your transportation requirements and my firearm is double locked in the rear of my vehicle. Now we go inside the building, which thankfully is air conditioned. This part of the country is supposed to have a record high today or tomorrow of 88 degrees. It's July, and not triple digits, I'm so confused, but at the same time elated. Quicker than I expected, he calls me over and I sign the paperwork I brought with me as he fills out the bottom of the form and I'm sent right over to the casher to pay the $25 Canadian fee for registering a Restricted firearm. Then I'm on my way. Total time at customs, less than thirty minutes. I'm almost disappointed as I didn't get any "chill" time, but I don't mind that much and hit the road.

On to Vancouver. Wow, the streets are so narrow here I wonder how *ding ding* and a bicyclist zips down between cars. Now this city I like. There is a bike lane, but it must only be a suggestion. The other thing that caught my eye were all the people in full out punk gear and plus ten inch mow hawks. I expected this kind of scene in Seattle, which there was some, but not this dramatic. I couldn't get a picture of any of the punks because traffic was ridiculous. Even traveling at sub-twenty-five miles per hour I have to be careful not to hit any other cars or people. Just when I've given up trying to get anymore photos for awhile I see a problem developing ahead of me. This van, that looks quite touristy to me, opens it's side door and out jumps a middle aged Asian woman. I have nowhere to go and the guy riding my bumper isn't backing off with the bright read lights in his lap. Next thing I know her elbow or purse, I don't know which, smacks my drivers side mirror and almost collapses all the way in on itself. Now, I know that Asians can scowl, but the look I got when I glanced back in my mirror was one of pure contempt. Good thing traffic is moving through this part of town, I'm outa here.

If Vancouver was neat, Whistler was amazing. These two cities will be hosting the 2010 Olympic games, but they aren't very close together. I think the sign said 111km on highway 99 as I left Vancouver.

What made Whistler so amazing was the outdoor activities: skiing, boarding, skating, biking, hiking, 4x4's, rafting, the list went on and on. Then I saw the most amazing thing ever: A group of girls riding bikes with suspension front and rear in full out body armour and full face helmets. I about rear ended the car in front of me, I couldn't stop staring.

If I was out classed in Moab, I wasn't even in the same league here. There was a whole section just on the edge of town set up with huge dirt jumps, lifts that were for downhillers and so many bike shops and tour companies with trainers that it put small countries to shame. Most of the bikes I saw had absolutely enormous disk brakes and seven inches of travel front and rear. I poped into a bike shop just to see what some of these bikes where bringing here. One of the Specialized bikes was mildly priced at over $2000. Yes, it may be Canadian dollars, but I still choked on my soda a little bit.

I looked around for awhile, but this town was way too much for me. When I get good I can come back, but right now the gash in my leg is beating pretty soundly reminding me that I should look into some body armour and a new bike before I even consider the trails that are on the maps.

Driving down the road a few miles, I find a campground and as I pull into it, the ranger lady is on her way out. She lets me pay with USD (I was brilliant and drive right past the currency exchange when I left customs... I'll go ahead and say I was so distracted by the lack of time I spent that I forgot all about exchanging money) and then she noticed the bike on the back of my vehicle. As the mosquitoes dive bombed us I told her how I chickened out on trying any of the trails back at Whistler as I'm not good enough, and she suggested a bike shop in the next town where she knows the guys will be more than willing to find me an easier trail to tryout. I think she knew, perhaps out of experience, just how out of control Whistler can be.

So, for now, I think I'll get some rest and see how extreme the easier trails are around here.

Day 18 Distance: 261, Elevation: 0 -> 2303

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