The climb out of Campbell River is long and hot, the road stretching ahead at a relentless incline. It's a bit of a shock after the sleepy island traffic of Quadra and Cortes to get back on the highway, with the summer crowd, loaded with boats, campers and giant trucks, barreling past us on their way to the beach. The further north we travel, the bigger the trucks seem to get - maybe it's just because we're thinking a lot about the oil industry, or because we're on bikes, but our collective addiction to the black gold has never seemed so alive.
Suddenly, just past Sayward, with a horrible hissssss, Tyese's back tire explodes, bringing us and our bikes to a standstill beside the road. The sun beats down on us as we survey the damage - the back tire has been torn by a rusty L-shaped chunk of metal on the shoulder. So, like true Canadians, we get out the roll of duct tape and patch the tire as best we can, and replace the shredded tube. We need a new tire, and Port McNeill is the closest town with a bike shop, so we pedal tentatively north, our wounded bike limping badly, the rest of the weight piled high on the other rat trap. It's obvious we won't make it the whole way with a duct tape patch, but as long as the back tire is still holding air, we're stubborn not to have to take a ride in one of the passing trucks. Eventually it's clear we're going to have to give in if we want to make it to Port McNeill before nightfall, and when a kind Port Hardy local offers us a ride as we rest beside a little waterfall trickling from the forest, we accept the ride. The drive in is a blur from the cab of the truck, we've become so used to the speed of a bicycle.
In Port McNeill, we stay with the Mackay family, who have been running a whale watching company in the area for more than thirty years. It feels so good to be landed after such a long day, but we realize quickly that somewhere in the chaos we lost our camera and all the campaign footage so far. The blown tire was intense, but its a temporary problem - losing the camera is harder to deal with. Bill and Donna are sympathetic, and entertain us with wild stories of life on the water. From calm sunny days watching huge pods of orcas spyhop and breach around the Niad, to life and death situations where the fate of a sinking boat, or a drowning sailor rests entirely on their ability to stay calm and act fast.
It puts the whole day into perspective for us, we just have to let it go and hope that a kind stranger finds the camera and sends it back to us.
Stay calm, be brave, wait for the signs...
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