The Galloping Goose

Galloping Goose trailside scene

By this time in the summer my cell phone battery was pretty well cooked. The charge level kept jumping between 30%, 66% and 12% and my phone was operating too slowly to be any use for internet access or as a camera. I did have an old city map and some tourist maps of the route, so I turned my phone off and did without, except in a few places where I found pretty scenes, like this one which reminded me of old Chinese prints.

I found the trail-start by back-tracking to the route intersection with the Great Trail sign-boards. Inside the city the trail passes between the backyards of some big, old farm-style houses, which might have been kind of seedy when the trains still ran. But now the tracks have been torn up to make a pleasant bike route shaded by huge big-leaf maples, and the houses are probably valued much higher. A few miles on, the trail runs next to the Trans-Canada Highway (Hwy. 1), not the most scenic stretch, but it is a smooth-paved, flat bicycle express-way out of the city.

After Burnside Road the trail crosses Hwy. 1 toward Island Highway, then enters some more modern suburban neighborhoods, with strip malls or shopping centers near major street crossings. I thought it might be a good idea to stop to buy some Powerade and snacks - I was only carrying two water bottles and a granola bar. But I was fired up to ride and didn't want to stop to deal with mini-marts or grocery store crowds, so I just kept going.

Many of the crossings are located at intersections that were under construction, in the process of improvement, but that sometimes made it difficult to pick up the trail again on the other side of a four-plus-lane street. At one point I followed a bike lane into what soon became a neighborhood of 70's era split-levels. Guessing that I was off-route, I stopped to ask a passer-by, a tall, ruddy-skinned man with wild salt-and-pepper gray hair, who spoke with a slight French-Canadian accent. He pointed the way back to the rail-trail, warning me to be careful. "There are people who shouldn't be out," he said, "They are beasts." I thanked him, reassuring him that I could escape on my bicycle.

This was around Colwood Corners, where the surroundings become more woodsy. By late September, although much of the understory plants had thinned and died back, the maples and alders overhead were still in full, green summer leaf. Somewhere along the way Island Hwy. becomes Sooke Road, which the winding trail intersects in about three places, but it was still easy to follow the wide gravelled pathway. After the last crossing at Happy Valley Road, the route turns south into undeveloped rural and forest areas. A trail marker gives some historical background: the Galloping Goose was the name of a coal-powered steam train that ran with a wild, lurching gait. The rail line was built during World War I, to bring Sitka spruce lumber back to Victoria BC, to be used to build fighter airplanes for the new Air Forces of the Allied armies.

At another crossing I was stopped by a woman who told me she had just heard the sounds of a horrible dog fight near the trail, then seen a man coming out of the brush, carrying something in a sack. She warned me that sometimes at this time of year bears came out of the woods to eat windfall apples from trees that grew along the way. Again, I reassured her that I could get away fast on my bicycle, and she sought the safety of her car.

The trail crosses Rocky Point Road, bends to the right/west and then crosses Rocky Point Road again, heading into one of the prettiest stretches, through Matheson Lake Regional Park, along a steep hillside above Matheson Lake. There are rest stops with beautiful views of the lake, and interesting rocky outcrops. A hiking trail runs around the lake, and I believe camping is allowed (I might be wrong).

There were very few people on the trail on a weekday and I began to watch my bike computer, trying to push my average speed up above 15mph (or at least, not let it fall). It was fun skimming along for miles under the greenery and sunshine until my legs began to feel numb from the steady, higher-than-usual cadence on a gravel surface. But after a while I realized I was day-dreaming about Nutella and jam. Soon I began to remember that margherita pizza - fresh basil and tomatoes, sprinkled with just the right amount of mozzarella, on a thin, crispy, buttery crust. When I stopped at the Gillespie Road rest point to check my map, I realized that with maybe twelve miles to go before the end of the trail, I would bonk if I tried to ride the whole way. It would be miserable, I would be crawling home to the hostel.

I decided to turn back, rationalizing that now I had reason to come back next summer, with more provisions for the road. I stopped at a Taco Time and had a lovely taco salad. When I got to the hostel I was too late for cocktails, and by the time I had cleaned up and rested I had missed dinner, too, so I had to go out again, even though I wasn't very hungry after my late lunch.