July 21, 2019 – The turns life takes… A small change in plans can lead to something possibly profound. It wasn’t in my plans at any time to be in Crofton BC but here I am. Contacting the local kayaking company to find out how I can get BABS, me, and my gear down south to a more strategic launch site and finding Nancy, a kindred spirit, at Wilderness Kayaking Co. in Maple Bay BC. Going to the local small cafe to get tomorrow morning’s breakfast so I don’t have to make it and making a new friend named Andrew. Yes, another Andrew. Going up to the “rec room” of the campground to get a good wifi signal so I can write and publish journal entries and making another new friend. The journey is about more than geography, but some already know that. I’m not quite as fast at making those links.
On a practical level, I have charted my potential route over the next two days. The current plan is to launch early tomorrow. If conditions are in my favor, I will paddle directly to Rum Island. You got it. There’s rum there, eh? If conditions are not in my favor, I will paddle to somewhere near/south of Cowichan Bay on Vancouver Island, and Nancy will come pick me up and take me to Sidney (still on Vancouver Island but farther east and closer to my destination) where I can launch to Rum, if it’s gotten nicer by the time we get there. If it hasn’t, I’ll find a place to camp near the beach in Sidney and paddle directly to Orcas the following day (weather permitting) – a distance of about 25 miles which, if you’ve been following along, you and I both know is a doable paddle day for me.
I am torn because I kind of like this place and want more time to explore it and spend time with new friends. Have committed to be on Orcas Island in two days (weather permitting); people counting on me. I’ve been out so long without those kind of expectations that it is strange and I feel resistance to that. Well, onward I go.
But for tonight, I am in a nice campground in Osborne Bay, BC. I have come over 750 miles. Letting that settle in. Over 750 miles. That’s supposed to be more than half way. I’m good with that. In fact, I’m good with that being a lot more than half way. While my body is more fit than ever and able to do so much, it is more my soul that is weary – weary of lugging gear up and down 1/4-mile beaches, figuring out where I can take out/camp while satifying my ‘rule following’ nature in this new place.
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