Here I go again on my own….

 

Well, today is the first day of the rest of my trip. I am leaving Vancouver and heading up the Sea to Sky highway through Squamish, Whistler and Lillooet – then heading down Hwy 1 (TransCanada) to Hope for a side  trip – turning around and heading back to the Hwy 1 / 8 junction and continuing on to Merritt. I will eventually be going on from Merritt to Princeton and the nheading back in an easterly direction to Penticton, where I plan on heading north again into peach-country and on up into Kelowna.

I don’t know how far I will make it today – it is, of course, pouring rain again and cool. I would really like to take in the sights at Whistler and Blackcomb, but the weather forecast calls for rain right through until at least Thursday.

Another trip will just have to go into the old planning machine, lol.

So, yesterday was a different day altogether. The weather was beautiful – 20 degrees and sunny – which of course meant that a great ride was in order.

Never having been on a motorcycle, Sophia borrowed a helmet from her sister and hopped on the back – and off we went to visit Vancouver Island. We took the ferry from Tsawwassen to Victoria (Schwartz Bay) and then rode the scenic route along the coast before breaking off and heading up to Nanaimo, where we boarded the ferry back to the mainland.

All told it was about a 10 hour day, and it was fantastic. The views were amazing, the ferry rides were very enjoyable, and Sophia turned out to be a pretty darned good passenger.

Sophia took me out for supper afterwards to a popular Vancouver restaurant / bar known as Rogue. The food was great – and other than that one incident where our waitress dropped an entire tray of waters and drinks smack-dab in the middle of our table – the experience was wonderful. I actually went ahead and filled out a comment card commending Mel, our waitress, for keeping her poise and maintaining her cool in a situation that would have found many wait-staff overwhelmed. Well done Mel.

Of course, having an accident like that happen at our table probably worked in Mel’s favor. Sophia and I had already had far too good a day to let anything spoil it, and we found ourselves laughing about it and helping Mel to straighten things up.

After dinner we took one last walk aroung downtown, strolling through Gastown once more – my favourite part of the city – and then called it a night. We had a really interesting conversation with a young couple that we met on the Skytrain while heading back to Burnaby. The young woman was voicing her opinion over the new crime bill, and sounded discouraged that addicted offenders are now going to be facing minimum sentence periods of incarceration.

I, of course, had to toss in my two cents.

I mentioned that addicted offenders still have the opportunity to opt into a Drug Treatment Court program. The young lady gave me a kind of disparaging look, as if to say ‘big deal’ – so I mentioned that it had worked for me, and that after 18 years of crack addiction and 4 years of being on the streets I am now approaching 6 years of being clean and sober.

It was at this point that the young lady began to cry.

A soul overflowing with compassion and the willingness to help, she works part-time at a local Elizabeth Fry Society, and volunteers at the Vancouver community court. She is afraid that offenders who are in conflict with the law due to their addictions are no longer going to be able to get help.

We talked for 20 minutes or so, shared some laughs and some experiences, exchanged hugs and went on about our evenings, and our lives. Maybe just a little more enriched. I know mine is. I thank god that there are people like this young woman who are so passionate about helping people like me. Without them, I would not be writing this. And that my friends, is the god’s honest truth.

Sophia, you were a wonderful host. Thank you so much for putting me up – and putting up with me – for the last 5 days. It has been a true pleasure to have a friend show me around one of our country’s most beautiful cities and I thoroughly enjoyed your company.

And now, it is time once again to pack up my trusty steed and hit the open road. If you don’t hear from me for a couple of days it is only because I am camping in the mountains. And enjoying the hell out of my life.

Between Victoria and Nanaimo

A bunch of pictures from the ferry rides and Victoria are right here.

Ok. The bike is packed.

Let’s ride!

One Day At A Time

 

Well, today was my last ‘take it easy’ day in Vancouver. I did not even roll off the couch until sometime after 10:00am.

Oh yes – let me make sure that point is cleared up. A friend of mine sent me a ‘Quagmire’ – like text this morning alluding to my waking up with Sophia. I am sleeping on the couch.

I guess my wording in previous posts may have left the reader open to the idea that I was sleeping with Sophia, as opposed to merely at Sophia’s.

I assure you – not that you care – but it is important for me to be clear that this is not the case.

So, I got up late, surfed around the ‘net for a while, eventually showered and finally left the apartment at about 1:30 in the afternoon. I brought my rain suit with me –ah-ha, prepared – so of course it did not rain. Actually this afternoon turned out to be one of the nicest that I have experienced thus far.

I rode back downtown – snapped a couple of pics of the local emergency shelters – went to yet another mall searching for an Otterbox for my new phone (to no avail), rode down to the yacht club, and eventually made my way back to New Westminster and went to an AA meeting at a local, privately run treatment facility.

I have not been to a treatment facility meeting in a long, long time. And it was precisely what I needed.

There was one gentleman there who had just completed the in-house program and he is moving out in the morning. There were also two new, younger lads there who had only arrived this afternoon. Tonight was their first meeting at the house. They did not share much. But it did appear that they were listening. And hoping. Hoping that somehow, maybe – this might work for them too.

The ‘old-timers’ who were present – including a gentleman who works the overnights there in the house – did their best to help these new lads feel some hope. Through the sharing of some experience, and some strength.

I am honoured to have been a small part of that. At first seen as a bit of a novelty – a middle-aged guy crossing the country on a motorcycle in search of who-knows-what – I was quickly treated to hand-shakes, questions, suggestions and well wishes. As always, I was once again amazed at how welcomed any newcomer / out-of-towner is made to feel at a good, healthy meeting. And this is definitely a good – even great- meeting.

Thank you once again, my higher power. For doing for me that which I cannot do for myself.

The Salvation Army – DTES

The Yacht Club

New Westminster

Cheers,

My dogs are barking….

Today was a day of laundry. And a day of walking. A lot of walking.
As I type this I am nursing a very sore foot with a recently drained blister. The way it feels right now, tomorrow will not entail much walking. Which, of course, leaves an opportunity for riding. Something I did not do at all today. As a matter of fact, I did not even start my bike today. Something that has not happened since I put her on the road this season.
Sophia and I got up and hit the laundry-mat early this morning – a classic little Chinese laundry run by an elderly couple – him seeming to do everything wrong, and her chattering away in Mandarin, or Cantonese, or I don’t know – it’s all Chinese to me.
We were all done within 90 minutes. A quick trip back to Sophia’s to drop off our newly cleaned garments, and then we were off on an adventure into the down town lower east side – DTES – Gastown and Chinatown. Those who know me well know that I am one of those odd men who actually enjoys shopping. Walking through a crowded, eclectic district full of shops and store-fronts can occupy an entire day for me – and it did so today.
We started out by walking into Chinatown and then onto East Hastings street – the heart of the DTES. We dropped by InSite and spoke with Ashley, the young lady working behind the desk who is the point of contact for the person coming in off the street who has decided to use safely. I congratulated Ashley and her peers and co-workers for the work that they are doing – in the face of some hefty odds – to help save lives.
InSite
I have heard so many different stories, tales and interpretations of what the DTES represents and embodies. Most people have described it to me as a street full of pain and despair; of ruined lives and waiting death; of danger, horror and darkness.
I have a different take on the picture that I saw unfold before and around me.
I saw a community. One that has pulled together and does what it can to support those lost within it. Lost to us. Once within this community, I get the feeling that most ‘individuals’ feel found. Feel part of. Feel like they too, are no longer alone.
The community that I am referring to is, of course, made up entirely of the disenfranchised and the desperate. Addicted and afraid. Sickly and suppurating. Skittish and sketchy.
Those are the terms that we hear – and use – when we are trying to describe what we feel when we walk the DTES.
We forget to describe what we see.
I saw a community of men and women – boys and girls – young and elderly – black, white, aboriginal and native – doing what they can to help each other out. Pulling together to get a brother what he needs; to provide a sister with whatever it is that she is screaming to find; directing a an addict who is dope-sick to the guy who has what he needs. I saw two full length city blocks lined with the wares of gypsy marketers'-  blankets laid out and filled with objects that you and I would toss into the trash. Things we think are no longer useful. Because in our lives, these items no longer serve a purpose.
But in the lives of this struggling, hard-scrabble community, every trinket has value. Every item has a use. Every possession has a price.
The trading was brisk. Almost every blanket had an individual attending to the sales end of the exchange, while several potential buyers jostled with each-other to get that ‘must-have’ item into their own hands in order to begin the bartering banter. Money changed hands at every square. When money was not visible, cupped palms and hushed voices indicated that more illicit forms of payment were being offered.
Sophia and I walked the 6 block length of the DTES without even once being approached by a panhandler. Not one individual tried to sell us anything. No one even asked me for a smoke. As a matter of fact, the only question that I was asked was when an guy with an unlit joint in his mouth asked me if If had a lighter.
There was not a single moment when I felt unsafe. Or uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, there were times during our walk when I noticed that it was I who felt invisible. It is not a nice feeling. To correct that, I made eye contact, and said things like ‘what’s up’ or ‘hey man’ – and found myself acknowledged in return.
A lesson in humility.

Here is a link to an article about a man who also see's more in the DTES than most...

http://www.insidevancouver.ca/2012/01/18/reality-show-gastown-gamble-tells-save-on-meats-story/

We travelled from there on into Gastown. A very hip, chic, artsy part of Vancouver. We walked in and out of so many different shops that I cannot possibly remember the number or the names. And I shopped. And bought stuff. And walked more. And took lots of pictures. And discovered a city that appeals to me as much as any city ever has – and much more than most.
Gastown

I am a visitor here in Vancouver. And I feel at home. What the hell do I do with that?
Pictures from today DTES and Gastown