Day 15 — Texada Island to Saltery Bay - Summer Island Hopper

August 6, 2025

Day 15 — Texada Island to Saltery Bay

The rain that had been predicted all day started to fall in the evening and persisted overnight as a light drizzle. What should have been a cozy evening dozing in the tent was marred by two things. First, our neighbours had some enormous setup of solar panels linked to their jeep, and some motor running incessantly for some reason. They were nowhere to be seen. Second, after we had been asleep for a good hour or more, a truck with one of those enormous trailers came roaring in, and spent a half hour trying to back the trailer in and out of the spot in the dark, headlights washing over our teeny tent while the truck roared back and forth. At one point the driver’s wife and kids came out and were told to “sit the f*ck down and shut the f*ck up”. Ah, the precious memories you are making, sir.

Anyhoo, because of all this we slept late. The tent did well and kept us dry, though we did have to pack it up wet. We did keep the fly and body separate to try to keep the interior dry. We needn't have bothered, given what happened later.

The ride back to the ferry terminal was quite pleasant. It was warm and muggy, but the rain held off. There was minimal traffic, and what little there was was polite. Before long we were back at the ferry terminal, with an hour to kill until it left. Marilee spent the time doing some shoulder exercises.

Gives you a start, coming around the corner

The ferry trip (#13) was uneventful. Today was supposed to be rainy, but the forecast kept pushing the start of the rain later and later, and in fact by the time we hit Powell River it was sunny, though the wind (a headwind, obviously, what other type of wind is there) was picking up.

Roadside stop outside of Powell River. There was some whalespout in the distance

The road out of Powell River wasn't great. Busy and fast, intermittent shoulder with loose edges, made all the more tricky by the blustery headwind. However, after a dozen or so kilometres, all those conditions improved, and we soldiered on to Saltery Bay.

The Saltery Bay campground was a pleasant surprise. A calm oasis carved into old second growth forest, with large sites set far apart. We spent a while choosing the very best one.

90 year old second growth — lots of old nurse stumps like this

Saltery Bay — reclining, listening to distant thunder

Given the repeated rumbling of thunder, we decided we better get an early dinner in. Just as we were finishing up our curry and couscous, the drops of rain started. We watched for a while in the shelter of two large trees, though as it became more insistent we headed for the tent. The rain picked up quickly until it became unbelievably intense, just completely torrential. It was like having several hoses turned on the tent. We stared at each other wide eyed for a bit, then started checking in on how dry we were staying. The fly was doing fine, water was sluicing off it. However we could see water creeping along under the corners of the tent, then realized the entire floor of the tent was floating over an inch of water, and no tent floor even with a footprint is going to keep that out.

We realized we needed to act, so hopped out of the tent -- the rain was actually starting to lessen, so it wasn't too bad being outside. We saw immediately that half of our carefully chosen campsite was a small lake, and we had set up in the middle of it. We chucked the bags out of the tent, dragged it up onto higher ground, repitched the fly and surveyed the state of affairs. The inside was quite wet (and as we had set up on wet ground, no hope of getting any drier!), though we managed to keep sleeping bags and clothes less wet by keeping the Thermarests under them. By now the rain had fully stopped, the clouds were parting and the birds were chirping. The whole episode lasted maybe 20 minutes.

Perfectly dry 20 minutes ago, now it’s a shallow lake

As the rain had pretty much stopped, we decided there was not much to be done with the tent or our dampened belongings, so we walked around to survey the park post-monsoonlet. The park operator was driving around, checking in on people, and offering the use of shelters and driers to soaked campers. We were told of two other bikers that were completely washed out with "a river running through their tent". We continued our walk around the camp, taking in the now swollen creeks and noting all the available sites we had passed up with nary a puddle in them.

We ended up back down at the shore, where we encountered the cyclists setting up inside a changing shelter, which had been recommended to them by the park operator. A father and son, they had come from Cortes this morning. They had just gotten in and the tent set up when the storm hit. They managed to chuck their belongings in the tent, but did confirm that they ended up with a river running through their tent, and were completely soaked.

This is why they call it a rainforest, I guess

We ambled back to the tent, and tucked ourselves into our damp shelter, putting jackets underneath our pillows and Thermarests to keep additional water at bay. Sleep was fitful -- we had set up directly under a moss strewn tree, which slowly dripped onto the tent most of the night, and we had the fly cinched so tight it was like a snare drum. We were, however, damp but not wet, and warm enough, and looked forward to sun being back in the forecast for the rest of the trip.

We can see clearly now, the rain has gone

The Garmin captured this as two rides, for some reason

Today's ride: 54 km (34 miles)
Total: 615 km (382 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	2
Comment on this entry	Comment	0