Those who know me know that i am an honest person, or at least believe me when i say i am. so it is with heavy heart (and cold, but not wet, everything else) that I admit that today i am cheating, or at least it feels like it. let me explain.
after my chance meeting with Nicolas and Kyra yesterday, to save time down the road, i asked Nicholas if he could recommend any interesting campsites near the ocean. He suggested a few, but then also suggested staying in the yurt camp they had just come from. i thought that this latter suggestion was timely, not because of the weather, but because just the night before i had thought for the first time about upgrading to a yurt. (the day before i had thought about downgrading to a bike.) it was still two hours away at the end of a long, very winding, narrow mountain road, but we could make it before dark, so off we went.
indeed, that road (highway 4) was winding, narrow and long, and you might throw in scary-at-times to boot, but we made it, perhaps invigorated by the vente cup of really-bold coffee supplied by the Port Alberni Starbucks before we left. but before we got to the little community of 15 yurts overlooking this magnificent ocean scene, we had to navigate a very scary 2km one-lane road that was made worse by the kyackers coming the opposite direction in their beat-up cars at speeds, even around blind terms, that could only be called dumb.
so, here we are for two days, in a yurt, overlooking the Pacific, storing up energy for the return trip home, and staying dry from the at-times miserable weather taking place outside. although the truth is that we deal with whatever weather we are dealt with equanimity, plus some good, healthy cursing if the weather is bad, it is a welcome relief not to have to deal with that every now and then, like now. the rain is pelting the canvass roof of the tent relentlessly; the surf, less than 200 feet from my right ear, is pounding the rocks on the shore; the little propane-fueled fireplace that comes with the yurt throws off more ambience than heat or light; all three create a peaceful orchestral combination that I am sure someone would pay dear money for on Ebay. to assuage my guilt feelings, i do not use the battery-operated light in the yurt, and i do most of my chores outside or smoking my pipe in the back of the Defender, mainly to adhere to the no-smoking proscription in the yurt. (I was given permission to ignore the No Pets sign on the door.)
Tomorrow, we will explore the area a little, retake that winding highway, and head toward Victoria. depending upon our plans, we may stay overnight along the way in the small unheated spare cabin of the nice couple I met at Cape Scott with their dog Luke. Another night of relief never hurt anyone, I say. eventually we will find our way home.
some photos
- dogs resting by the fireplace inside the yurt
- dogs resting on the Pacific Ocean
- dogs resting outside the yurt
-Defender resting outside the yurt
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