Victoria to Vancouver
I'm feeling so numb that I can't even feel excited about this trip. I did get my last 23 remaining "miscellaneous" boxes all packed up and into a storage unit. Not enough sleep and too much stress. U-Haul chased me away for showing up too early. Then they wouldn't allow me to park my vehicle on their lot. By the time I found parking on the street there were 6 other renters ahead of me. I left in a foul mood as I pointed the old truck towards James Bay. Then my hired helpers didn't show up on time. One was 15 minutes late and the other never showed up at all. Scary visions of U-Haul's $100/hour policy for late returns were dancing around in my head. At the storage place we ended up inadvertently causing damage to the motorized rollup door at the loading dock.
I was hoping not to have to do anything too strenuous just before the trip so I wouldn't injure myself just before leaving. Now my back aches and my hips are sore from 4 hours of heavy lifting to get the U-Haul all loaded up and unloaded again. The Canadian economy is still going full tilt and good workers are very scarce. I was able to lift more than my hired helper who was wheezing all day long. I hope he squanders the money on food and shelter instead of BC's #1 cash crop. I've been going full bore from 6:00am to 4:30pm when I pulled into the ferry terminal with only 30 minutes til sailing time for Vancouver. I had planned to stand in front of the apartment building when the last items were loaded in the car and shout out "I'm free! I'm free! no more smokers below me! no more stompers above me!" I was too exhausted to utter more than a weak "goodbye" to the building manager. I was too exhausted to even let out a sigh of relief as I painfully dragged my sore body into the driver's seat of my little Dixie. I really need to work on my "full chaos" lifestyle.
The voyage over from Vancouver Island was spooktacular. I've lost count of how many dozens of times I've taken that ferry since I moved to BC 25 years ago. But each time I do the 90 minute trip I'm still as stunned by the beauty as the first time. A red glow reflected off the puffy clouds over Vancouver Island where the sun was setting in the west. Fog banks were starting to build in the east, over the Gulf Islands and the mainland. As I devoured my veggie burger on board, the haunting sound of the ferry's foghorn could be heard every minute or so. Once in Vancouver I promptly stole a beer from my hostess' fridge while she was out on a date, only to find out it belonged to one of her roomies. I was fearing the worst but the roomie forgave me ...phew!
Everything else seems to be going along perfectly. Almost too perfectly. The old mountain mule has new tires, a new chain, new crankset and chain rings, new sprockets, new computer, and a new bottom bracket. I can't even hear the gears shifting. Tomorrow it's off to a brunch with a friend, then by carasaurus across the border into George Dubya's kingdom and on to Seattle in search of some kickass Scrabble before flying out on Monday.