Not driving the Malahat in winter; Victoria and Vancouver Island

Sometimes, you’ve got to go with plan B, even when you don’t.

On an Alaska Inside Passage cruise a few years ago, I saw a lighthouse on the coast of the Queen Charlotte Strait.  It was so picturesque, I thought I’d like to go back there and see it once again.  My thought was to drive the eastern edge of Vancouver Island to the point near Port Hardy where I could view the light – and everything else in between.  Since it is a mild marine climate, I didn’t think it too much of a risk to do this in early winter.  Who cares if there is a little rain anyway, eh?

As I planned the drive, I discovered that the lighthouse is not accessible by land after all.  I believe the only way would be boat or possibly a chartered floatplane – or land plane just to see it, not visit.  You probably cannot visit it anyway since it is a government installation.  But I was wedded to the idea of this road trip, so I continued with the plan regardless.

The plan was to fly to Seattle, rent a car, and drive to Port Angeles to ferry across the Straits of Juan de Fuca, visit Victoria for a day, then drive Canada 1 and highway 19 (a highway the locals call “the Malahat”) north to Port Hardy the following day.  After an overnight in that vicinity, I’d drive back south to Sydney, B.C. and catch the Sydney-Anacortes WSF ferry back to Washington and Seattle, before returning home to the desert.  Total trip time about 5 days.  This looked good on paper.  Note: while pre-planning tightly and to the Nth degree can be a good thing, it can also reside in the vicinity of stress and “things gone south.”

On arrival in Seattle late in the evening of 12/5, I elected to take the more direct route across the sound, rather than drive around the end, destination Bremerton. I needed to be at the ferry terminal in Port Angeles by a few minutes after 7 AM the next morning.  Since my flight didn’t land until almost midnight, getting to a Bremerton hotel in as little time as possible was of some importance if I was going to be rested the next day.  In the end, driving around would have been the better choice; taking the ferry unexpectedly doubled the time, because of the waiting time at the terminal and then a mid-route stop at Vashon Island – and the time that required. It was after 2:00 AM before I got in the rack at the Flagship Inn in Bremerton. 

In any event, I got moving at 5:15 am for the 1.5 hour drive to Port Angeles.  It was cold and wet – and along the way there was light snow.  The roads were in good shape though.  I think the snow was melting within seconds of its fall.  There was black ice on the parking lot at the ferry terminal in Port Angeles, which I discovered simultaneously with the bonus discovery that my smooth-soled walking shoes are useless on an icy surface.  Fortunately, I bounced rather than crashed. 

Leaving Port Angeles

The crossing to Victoria takes about 1:45.  The Strait was a bit rough, but I’ve encountered worse.  I sat at the front and kept my eyes up and out.  We encountered several cargo ships along the way, but the distance was great enough to make photos difficult.  The wind was blowing, but the sky overhead was almost cloudless, the water blue-gray and white capped.

Upon arrival at Victoria and driving off the Black Ball Ferry Line’s MV Cojo, I pulled up to the Customs booth.  The Customs official asked my plans, etc. and after learning that I wanted to drive north to Port Hardy, informed me that I needed chains or M+S tires on that road after November 1^st.  I didn’t have chains of course – I don’t think you’re permitted to put them on a rental car anyway.  And I didn’t think I had snow tires on the car either.  This was a rather revolting development that I hadn’t anticipated or considered.  The Customs lady suggested I stop a couple blocks away at the Tourist Information office and see what my options were.

The air temperature was about 31 degrees F.  I drove around the harbor to the Tourist Bureau and after parking along the street, attempted to negotiate my way down the ice-coated sidewalk to their office.  I probably presented a fairly comical sight – and I am certain that people who live in places where ice is common have special shoes that make walking a safer proposition than I experienced at that moment.  I much resembled a hog on ice.  I made it without falling down again, just the same.

I confirmed the chains or snow tires requirement with the Tourist Bureau people. They suggested I check with the local National rental car agency about swapping the car for one with the proper tires, and they helped me locate the nearest office – which turned out to be the wrong company but the staff there helped me get to the correct one (Enterprise, Alamo’s parent company).  While I couldn’t see the information on the tires, it turned out they were in fact mud and snow tires, so I thought at that point my plan was still on.  But the “elephant in the room” was an approaching storm that was predicted for that evening.

Juan de Fuca Provincial Park

I decided to spend the remainder of the day driving west along the Strait to Port Renfrew to see the coastline in that direction.  There’s a road's-end limit to how far you can go – but I didn’t even make it that far.  I got about half that distance, to Juan de Fuca Provincial Park.  It was about the size of a highway rest area (at least in terms of vehicular access).  I found an A&W Root Beer stand in Sooke, and had lunch and a root beer in a frosty mug! 

The Cozy James Bay Inn

Back in Victoria about 3:00 pm, I checked into the James Bay Inn.  It wasn’t much to look at from the outside – but inside it was warm (in terms of ambiance) and clean and friendly.  But they didn’t use much heat, and I was cold all afternoon and evening.  I wore my coat at dinner (in the hotel).  The food was pretty great, and a great value as well.  The kitchen staff were future “chefs” in training – and I didn’t expect much, but was very much surprised.  I ordered the daily special – a three-course meal for about $20 (probably $17 USD).

Expecting the storm to hit overnight, I cancelled my plans for the drive north to Port Hardy.  I worried I’d get up there and wouldn’t get back in time to catch the ferry to Anacortes (if the roads were bad, or if the traffic was slow). I cancelled the hotel and moved the return ferry reservation up one day.  Had I had one extra day and had I not planned everything so tightly time-wise, I could have done the trip as planned – but I didn’t know that yet. (Actually, even the original plan would have been OK, but that was even less certain at the time I had to make a decision - a little extra wiggle-room on time frames would have made the choices easier.)

After a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed, and a little portable heater provided by the hotel staff that took the chill out of the air <love>, I discovered that while it had remained very cold, the storm had not arrived.  It was now predicted to hit that next night.  I toyed with the idea of changing everything back and risking it, but was still somewhat concerned about the traffic on the return, if not the road conditions. So I didn’t do it.

MV Elwha calls at Sydney, BC

I drove to Sidney to await the ferry, had a nice breakfast at the 3^rd Street Café a couple of blocks from the ferry landing, then waited about 90 minutes for the ferry to arrive, while enjoying the view.  On board the ferry, I discovered the “weather” decks were all closed.  Still, I snuck out to get photos several times.  They threatened “violators” with trespassing charges, so I watched out for “the man” in hopes of avoiding jail for taking pictures.  There was NO ice on the deck (which was the stated reason for the closure).  Still no storm, by the way. There was an intermediate stop at Friday Harbor (San Juan Island), and I must return there some day for further exploration; I've been to the ferry landing there twice, but never got more than 500 feet from it!

My new hotel reservation was in Bellingham, and I had several options for the next day’s adventure.  That storm was still supposed to arrive overnight.  I thought about the air museum at Boeing Field, a ride up the Space Needle, a trip to the beach out on the central Washington coast, or a drive up Mt Baker Highway if the weather held.  It did.

Nooksack Creek - Mt Baker Highway

I slept a little late, and then got on my way to Mt Baker under sunny skies the next morning.  The highway was clear – no ice except on the sides.  There was a stretch where there was a thin cover of frost on the roadway, but while I drove slowly just in case, had no difficulty all the way to the top.  The temperature at the top of the highway was 14 degrees F. This was the coldest I encountered on the entire trip. A ski resort was open, but not much else, and I didn’t stop except to take photos of the snow and the peaks.  It was really beautiful up there and in addition to the mountain peaks, I encountered several tumbling creeks.  I stopped to look and one thing I noticed is that the trout seemed very, very cold. Poor things.

Mt Baker Highway

I was back down to Bellingham and Interstate 5 by lunch time, and proceeded on south to Seattle in hopes of an early arrival and missing the afternoon rush hour traffic.  While it was heavy and stop and go in several places, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.  There was probably traffic backed up earlier than usual because the “storm” was now predicted to arrive late that night.  The prediction was for light snow in late evening, followed by rains through the night washing that snow away.  Finally, that’s what happened.

I had turned my rental vehicle back in that evening, as the hotel had a shuttle and I had no further plans for sight-seeing.  I had a steak dinner, and turned in early. My flight left for home the next day at noon.

In the end, the predicted storm was never a factor.  Had I not planned everything so tightly time-wise, I wouldn’t have been pressured to make peremptory choices about changing plans and reservations.  All I needed was an extra day to play with, and less pre-planning and I wouldn’t have been so uneasy about going with the original idea.  I’ll go back as I still want to see that road.  But next time I’ll better know how to get it done, assuming I remember the lessons I learned.

Keep it between the fence posts!

Visiting the relations! Road Trip USA Midwest

I like driving American highways in October.  The weather is usually perfect, traffic is lighter, noisy kids are back in school!  This year, I planned a road trip to visit my relatives in Missouri and across Indiana.

Ready to go at PHX

I flew from Phoenix to St Louis on Oct 17^th.  It was mostly clear all the way and I got some good photos out the airplane’s window (if such can be had).  We over flew Four Peaks and Roosevelt Lake, Springerville/Eagar (AZ), and the Rio Grande near Socorro.  After that I knew when we were over Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas, but couldn’t have told you much else – until we reached central Missouri.  There, I recognized the Missouri River valley which we followed into St Louis.  I grabbed my bag and my rental car, and hit the road.

US 61 in Missouri

I took US 70 west from the airport to Wentzville, then US 61 north to Hannibal.  There are only two things of note along the way – one, Missouri drivers are a bunch of oblivious jerks.  I never saw so many impatient tailgaters in my life.  Road rage may have been born in the west, but it is alive and well-rooted in St Louis.  Simply stated, following too close is one of the most dumb-assed things a driver can do.  Then, once on US61, there was a wreck that had traffic backed up quite some distance – maybe a mile or a half mile.  A truck had gone off the road and down an embankment.  It was upside down (or at least on its side) as I went by.  I couldn’t look too closely (got to keep your eyes and mind on the road, you know).  Once past that, it was smooth sailing all the way to Hannibal and then to Brookfield on US36.

I stopped in Hannibal at a MoDot visitors’ center – they claimed to have road maps of almost all 50 states.  I really wanted to ask for a copy of everything they had – but settled for those states near to the ones I was driving through on this trip.  I have an almost complete collection of American states’ road maps – but they are getting dated.  So I will try to get new copies.  This Welcome Center on US61 in Hannibal gave me a good start on that project.  I use a GPS these days, but always carry paper maps for back-up.  Sam Clemens’ parents are probably buried in Hannibal, and it was my plan to stop and try to find them, although I didn’t get that done as I was short on time when I came back through the next day.  I had done something else instead; i.e, visited Marceline.

Dan's Farm

I arrived at my cousin’s farm near Brookfield in time for supper; we talked for quite some time about his collections of different things – he likes old stuff, including model trains and old farm equipment.  We spent some time perusing an old farm and industrial equipment catalog from back around the turn of the 19^th century – and he was able to show me some of the things that were available new in that catalog that he has now that they are not so new.

Marceline Main Street

Next morning, we continued our visit for a little while and then I started off toward Indiana.  My first stop heading east on US 36 was at Marceline, Missouri.  This is a Santa Fe railroad town, and Walt Disney’s parents moved their family there when Walt was little.  Disney’s memories of that town became the basis and inspiration for Main Street in the Disneyland parks.  He came back sometime in the late 1940s and photographed Marceline’s main street, then used those photos to plan Main Street in the Anaheim park.  It has changed a lot since then, as have most “main streets” in small town America.  I had a really great pork tenderloin sandwich at Ma Vic’s Corner Café downtown, then got back on the road toward Indiana.

The weather was sunny and I set the cruise control at the “right” speed and settled in with my tunes for the 6 hour drive to western Indiana.  I crossed the Mississippi into Illinois, which looked about like it always does (Illinois, I mean) and kept on toward Attica, Indiana. My route followed I-72 to I-74 at Champaign, I-74 to Veedersburg, IN and then north on US 41 to Attica.  I arrived at about 8:00 pm and my cousin Chris grilled some beef and we had a good dinner and talked for a while.  

Indiana Road Buggy

The next morning, we got his 1973 Pontiac Lemans going (or he did while I watched) and we drove the river road for a ways, then circled back to Attica and crossed the Wabash to Williamsport, and drove the back roads to Mudlavia (a ruin now).  It had been a popular resort in the area in the early 20^th Century – but the hotel caught fire and that was about the end of the “good times” at Mudlavia.  I saw the waterfalls in downtown Williamsport, and we spent a couple of hours roaming around the flea market at Veedersburg.

Road trip booty

Chris had just made some dandelion wine using our late-grandfather’s recipe – and it is crystal clear and beautiful.  I don’t know how it tastes… yet.  But Chris gave me the first bottle I think, and I brought it home.  So sometime this holiday season, we will break it open and have a taste of my Grandpa’s wine. Chris also provided me with a jar of his famous barbecue sauce.

At one time there was a brickyard at Veedersburg (I don’t know if it is still there or not) and it was the supplier of perhaps the most famous bricks ever fired in the USA – the ones that paved the Indianapolis Motor Speedway!  There is still a ceremonial remnant of that brick racetrack at Indy – a narrow strip of them right at the finish line.  They keep a supply of the original bricks nearby to replace any that get damaged, so the “history” and heritage of the Brickyard can be preserved.  That may be the most fascinating thing I learned on this entire trip.

About mid-afternoon, after Chris fed me again, I headed on east on Indiana 28 to Muncie, Indiana. It had clouded up and was raining for the first time on this road trip, but the roads were still good and I moved along OK until a detour north of Indianapolis sent me 30 miles out of my way (give or take).  My college roommate Chad lives in Muncie, so we had a nice visit with Thai food, and a good movie.  Next morning, I visited with still another Ball State friend over breakfast, and mid-morning headed toward Brownsville, Indiana to see my Aunt Pearl and cousins Marilyn and Lowell.

Me and Nelson!

Late afternoon, I got on the road toward Batesville, where my cousins Nelson and Nan live.  The drive between the Connersville area and Batesville is a beautiful one – through wooded hills and over streams, past lakes.  It’s one of the prettiest places in Indiana I think.  The roads are fun too – lots of hills and curves, so a “driver” can have a lot of fun on them.

Indiana back country

We all went over to Oldenburg, Indiana for supper at a German restaurant there, then back at Nelson’s we watched a good movie before calling it a night.  Somewhere during the evening and along the way I lost my reading glasses, and although my very nice cousin offered hers, I stopped at a drug store the next morning and bought two replacement pairs.  Both of which are wrong (too strong).

On Friday morning, my route took me across south-central Indiana, through my family’s original (Indiana) country in Brown County, and then on to St Louis.  In Brown County, I took some time to visit the site of my great grandparents’ farm, where several generations of our McKinney ancestors had lived and died.  The farm itself is no longer there and the land belongs to someone else that has it gated off.  I took a few photos of the area and our family cemetery before going on toward Illinois.  It’s such a beautiful place, I go back every chance I get.

Brown County near Story, IN

The drive back to St Louis was uneventful, just normal super-slab driving and ticking off mile after mile.  I love driving the American two-lanes, but if you need to get some place in a hurry, the interstate system is the way to go. The old federal highways are for moseying.  

I grabbed a sandwich to keep me going until I got to my cousin Greg’s in Defiance, MO, where Shari had cooked some great chili for supper.  My uncle Fred and cousin Linda (and Tom) were also there for the evening.  I met Greg and Shari’s cat (Simba) who is in fact crazier than my own cat.  The next morning, after talking with Greg and Shari a while longer, I moved my show over to Uncle Fred’s apartment in O’Fallon, and we talked and went to Red Lobster for lunch.  After that, it was time to go to the airport.

I got there very early, and the flight was delayed about 40 minutes.  So I had a nice, long wait in the terminal.  The weather was CAVU all the way to Phoenix.  The pilots chased the sun but never caught it.  Where’s Concorde when you need her?  I was a bit uncomfortable in a window seat – I should have grabbed the aisle when I had the chance.  But my two row-mates were both “little” people and they were both quiet, so those were pluses. The flight was almost on time into Phoenix after all.

Can't wait to hit the road again... maybe Tennessee and the Natchez Trace!