On the Edge

Spontaneous leaps of faith almost always lead to beautiful places, but this one leaves me breathless. After waking up in Campbell River with a killer hangover, and walking back into the heat wave, we take the advice of a kind passing stranger and choose to ferry over to Quadra Island rather than tackling Capital Hill - a six kilometer climb stretching between us and Sayward. Now, after a mad dash for the beach on our heavily loaded bikes, and an icy plunge into the crystal waves, we sit on the smooth sands of Rebecca Spit and eat an entire head of lettuce. Life is good.

In Quathiaski Cove, we speak to a local woman named Ingrid who tells us about the potential for tidal energy farms in Discovery Passage between Campbell River and Quadra. Becuase the tidal currents run from 7 - 10 knots and the slack tides are short, this is an ideal spot to gather renewable energy from the gravitational energy of the moon. I think about this as we drift to sleep beneath the stars - what's keeping us from making the transition into these types of sustainable energy?

Where water and fire meet, light blooms into colour and, on the stretch of water between Quadra and Cortes, we look up to a massive rainbow encircling the sun. It's exciting and reassuring to see the great spectrum in the sky - we've taken a chance stepping out of the planned itinerary, but it's clear that we're exactly where we're meant to be. 

A sign right off the ferry says "Manson's Landing 14km", but says nothing about the road that snakes up and down and around the contours of the rocky island, making it the longest 14km we've ridden so far. We arrive exhausted on the shores of Hague Lake, a stretching blue-green jewel surrounded in silky white beaches, and dive into the cool water. The farmer's market up the hill (everything seems to be up a hill on this island) is almost finished when we finally arrive, but we spend some time talking to the artisans and villagers gathered around a giant cedar tree in the center of the courtyard. The sense of community is strong here, and island children, on the daily adventure, fill the air with movement and laughter. 

The Cortes Natural Food Co-op across the street is a local meeting point, and we feast on slightly bruised bananas and almond butter on bread outside on the picnic tables and talk to passing islanders. Our project generates a lot of support in places like this - on an island, the people are inseparable from the ocean and the land, and the need to preserve this connection for kids of the future is very real.

We are offered a spot on the Cortes Community Radio station by Sean, the kind face behind the counter of the co-op, and arrange a live broadcast for tomorrow morning . We are swept up in a wild island jam that stretches into the night, alight with stories of the woods and their mystery, their monsters and magic. One of the old locals tells me about the spirit of Cortes, "we're living on the edge of it all", he says, "most people come here to escape from something, or to find something they have been missing - we're all in this place for a reason though, some of us just can't leave the edge once we've gotten a taste of it..." As we find our way through the dark on our bikes, the stories of the woods seem to stretch and grow before us, and I wonder what we came here to find. It feels like we're crossing a border of sorts, like we've walked into something that is growing and intensifying as we ride North. 

Waking up on the shimmering sands of Hague Lake, we run into the water before kicking it up one more Cortes hill to the radio station in the back of the community hall. Sean gives us time on air to talk about our journey, and tells us a little more about the creation of the funky radio station, overflowing with records and inspiration. This is the kind of place where people walk in afterwards to congratulate us on our interview and write an impromptu song about oil spills in the morning sun outside. Coffee in hand, it is good to know that spontaneous detours lead to places like this, islands full of music, and laughter and really good people.

Because after all, "if you're not living on the edge, you're just taking up space" - right?