Day 13 — Cortes Island to Powell River - Summer Island Hopper

August 4, 2025

Day 13 — Cortes Island to Powell River

Today’s journey was back to the mainland. There is no ferry from Cortes back across to the mainland, so this portion of the journey needed to be by water taxi.

We had arranged pick up at the government dock at Cortes Bay at 10:30. The campground was only 7 km away, so we had a good amount of time to pack up and make the hilly trip to the dock.

It is difficult to take a picture that really conveys the incline.

The bikes patiently awaiting their boat trip

Tide was out, so the incline to the floating dock was steep

When we did this trip 4 years ago, our water taxi was a decent sized boat that took 6 people and bikes, and had an enclosed passenger area with ample seating. I was expecting something along those lines again.

We waited a bit, with not much happening at the dock. A small fish boat came in, and thinking this was it, I asked whether the guy in the bow was Brian. No, he said, I’m Pete. He’s Steve (indicating the pilot). Not a water taxi.

A small motorboat had docked, which I had thought was just a launch from one of the pleasure boats. But, no, the guy running the outboard said he was Brian and was looking for 2 bikers.

The water taxi was basically a small motorboat with a 25 hp outboard motor in the back. Brian explained his system for lashing the bikes into the boat, asked a lot of questions about who weighed more and who had the heaviest bags so he could figure out what went where. He then gave us a safety talk that was mostly about entering into the spirit of adventure, and following instructions very closely because it could get a little hairy out there.

Lashing the bikes. The fastening system involved lengths of hand cut paracord and an old flip flop

The next half hour involved lashing down the bikes, distributing the cargo, then finding our seating, from which we were not to move not even an inch, nor were we to occupy the field of vision up the middle of the boat, all of which would impair the navigation of the vessel and Brian’s ability to read the waves.

And off we went, chugging past the pleasure boats in the harbour until we got into open water and Brian opened it up and we bounced over the waves, spray in our faces, bikes bouncing against our knees.

At one point, we had to navigate the wakes of two larger vessels, and Brian skilfully brought us up on one wave crest, surfed forward for a while, then rotated us sideways into the trough. I thought we were goners for a sec as the water line crept perilously up the gunnel on my side, but no, we bounced out through the waves still intact.

In what seemed like no time at all, we were in Lund, back on the mainland, thrilled at having survived the crossing. Shout out to Brian at Magic Skiff for giving us a fun ride. He also has the ability with his smaller boat to get some interesting spots up Desolation Sound which sounds amazing.

We cut through a channel between two islands, which was scenic detour from the terror of the open water

If you’re ever looking to get dropped off (and picked up) anywhere up Desolation Sound, Brian’s your guy.

A bike on dry land, its natural habitat.

After some lunch and ice cream in Lund, we began our afternoon trek to Powell River. For whatever reason, every time we start a ride at sea level it involves a big climb. I can’t figure it out.

It wasn’t long before we had pounded up 2 long climbs, and gone screaming down a big switchback into Powell River. Powell River is essentially 2 towns 5 km apart. On the west side is the older town, clustered around an enormous old pulp mill which is in the process of being dismantled. The aura of gloomy post industrialism is added to by a breakwater made of old ships surrounding the hulking mill. Old Powell River however still possesses a faded charm and would be an interesting place to nose around.

The newer town, which is larger and is closer to the ferry terminal, was where we were headed. We were staying at a campground in the town’s municipal park. It had top notch showers and laundry, which we took advantage of.

As it was basically right in town, it was super convenient to the highway, and the Harleys fartcanning their way up the hill out of town, which provided a delightful serenade through the night. It was however also walkable to beers and tacos in town, which we also availed ourselves of.

Willingdon campground in Powell River. A little less remote feeling than last night

Today's ride: 33 km (20 miles)
Total: 536 km (333 miles)

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