Thursday morning I was awakened gently but early by the distant sounds of moving cars and trucks, and loud-speaker announcements at the ferry terminal. After a breakfast of coffee, fruit and pastry at the B&B I packed up my panniers and rode back across the overpass, above the boarding lanes to the ferry. By this time my cell phone was only useful as a pocket watch (so no more photos).
At Swartz Bay there are several car lanes serving two ferry slips for the big BC Superferries, and the terminal facilities look like modern airport buildings. Partly because it was early in the morning and I wasn't feeling too alert, I got confused finding the right bicycle route to the ticket office. Tickets are sold in the waiting room and food concessions building. Fare for me and my bicycle was $18.70 Canadian; I only purchased a one-way ticket because I planned to ride my bike 40-45 miles home to Ferndale.
Compared to BC Ferries, Washington State ferries are utilitarian but sociable, with worn vinyl-covered benches, booths and cafeteria tables, linoleum flooring and sheet metal walls. On the Washington ferries, people stroll around the passenger seating areas, indoors and out, enjoying the views and chatting with strangers, neighbors and friends from other islands. The BC Superferries have cushy airplane-style seats, only with more leg-room, and a business lounge with carrels for recharging or working via free wifi, but people keep to themselves more. The common trait is the food: overpriced and awful; the vending machines for snacks and beverages work more like playing slot machines. But I expected that, so I had a decent breakfast, brought along a couple of granola bars, and bought a second cup of coffee (not bad) while I waited to board.
The trip across the Strait of Georgia to Tsawwassen took a little less than two hours, and since I was travelling within Canada I could just roll off the boat without any border screening. Inside the ferry terminal I looked for a bicycle route map, but as usual only found sketchy tourist brochures. However, the ferry landing is located at the end of a long spit and there's only one road, with a clearly marked bike lane next to the car lanes. I followed Route 17 to Ladner Trunk Road, I think, but I was looking for a bicycle trail, to avoid riding on the shoulder of Hwy. 99 or the King George Hwy., and I'm not sure exactly where I went.
I was on busy city arterial streets for a while, until I saw a large group of bicyclists in colorful matching jerseys. Thinking this must be the RSVP crowd (Ride Seattle to Vancouver and Party), I decided that to get to the border, I should head in the direction they came from. This plan seemed to work for some distance, until I approached Hwy. 99 again. Then I found a side road next to the highway and followed that for a ways until it t-boned an overpass approach. As I was trying to decide which way to go next, an older couple passed by, wearing bright jerseys and riding touring bikes, so I followed them. They led me to a dirt bicycle and pedestrian path which passed through some wetlands, and some small farms, and near a highway, surrounded by high blackberry thickets.
Eventually, despite all my efforts, I got stuck on the King George Highway. Deciding to accept that this was the only approach to the Peace Arch Border Crossing, I just kept going, looking out for a place to take a rest break. In front of a complex of large, low buildings I spotted some black banners, which I thought said HOT SUBS - not my favorite food on a hot, dry bike ride, but I was hungry, thirsty and needed to pee. The business turned out to be a farm & garden and variety store, and the banners actually said HOT TUBS - not what I was looking for, either. But there was a public restroom, and a small selection of expensive snacks and drinks, so I was able to get some Powerade, a bag of mixed nuts and couple of Payday bars, which I sat out front to eat.
Back on the road I just put my head down and pushed on to the border. The ride was hot and gritty, with fast car traffic next to the bike lane. I had to wait in line more than a half hour at the border (maybe partly because I was hot, tired and confused, and didn't see the turn-off for bicycles, which wasn't well marked). After a quick look at my passport, the agents let me through and I rolled along beside the cars, to the familiar streets of Blaine, and then on to my own doorstep in Ferndale.
*Note: On Monday, September 25, my first day on Vancouver Island, I rode 25 miles from Sidney to the Ocean Island Hostel in Victoria. The next day, I rode about 53 miles on the Galloping Goose Trail, but only as far as Gillespie Road and back. Wednesday I rode 29 miles from Victoria to Sidney and Swartz Bay; and on Thursday it was 45 miles from Tsawwassen to Ferndale.
Also, I probably misspelled Tsawwassen in my previous posts. Ooooops.
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