Cycling the islands
- Erin Spyker
- Dec 27, 2025
- 17 min read
Welcome to Here+Therin, bike trip edition! This post was written with dirty hands, waiting for coffee, ferries, and sitting with the sea. With an adventure as challenging, invigorating, and empowering as this one, I did not smooth the edges or turn this into a story with answers. Instead, I wanted to let the days speak as they were lived: uneven, tender, and unfolding.
I am so happy to share this with you.
All my love,
Here+Therin
May 2025
Part one, Mayne and Saturna Islands
On an early morning in May, I woke in a room whose walls were left faded from where I once hung posters. I got out of that bed for the last time, brushed my teeth, and strapped everything I needed onto my bike, Uffda for an adventure of a lifetime.
Starting my trip with a ride up the Galloping Goose with my friend Kestrel, making it right on time for my ferry to Saturna
Island. I gave her a hug, and just like that, I was on my own.
When we docked, I was met with a hill immediately -classic Gulf Islands- and I quickly learnt that this trip could be slightly more challenging than expected, but as soon as I got to the top of the hill, all my misery was quickly forgotten. I carried on through forests with trees berried deep under moss, and along roads decorated with potholes. As I headed down the steep hill to the campsite, I let go of my brakes and was sent barreling down a bumpy, gravel hill with the rattle of my gear underneath me. I made it to the bottom in one piece.
Nearing Narvaez Bay campsite, life begins to take control, and the pot holes turn into a grassy meadow with the ocean through the trees. I followed the fruit trees, which guided me to my home for the next 2 nights, set up camp and went to explore. I found a cave and warm rocks to lie in the sun while listening to the ocean below and the birds above.
I can't shake the feeling of loneliness, but as the day goes on, I feel it less and less. I have realized that I can do whatever I want; I have nowhere to be but here.
My first night camping was admittedly chilly, but I have a plan for tonight, and hopefully I will sleep like a baby! The day started with a coffee by the ocean before I threw my leg over my bike and headed to the corner store, where an old man pointed me toward the Historic lighthouse. He warned me about the hills, but it couldn't have prepared me for what lay ahead, darn gulf islands.
The East Point lighthouse sat frozen in time, surrounded by meadows, at the tip of a rock. Birds sang, seals barked, and the silence sat heavy on my shoulders. As I explored, I ate a cinnamon bun and gawked at the bizarre geology found here. I wonder what it must've been like to come across a place like this, after a long night fighting with the sea. I would never want to leave!
As I was getting back on my bike, I met two girls who come here every day to look for whales! Apparently, East Point is a prime spot to see whales feeding! -Deep water close to their shore creates a strong current, stirring up plankton and attracting fish.- I waited a little longer before calling it a day and continuing my adventure around the island. I went to a different area of the Gulf Islands Reserve and followed Boat Pass Trail to a bench with a view of another island only a spitting distance away, but what surrounded it was the end of the world. I then started my trek back and prayed to anyone that would listen to get me up this mfin hill.
Back at camp, I made a cup of tea and a snack at my favourite spot, Echo cove, I believe, and did some stretching; a habit I hope to keep as time goes on.
This morning, I boarded the ferry and watched Saturna fade out of view as we approached Mayne Island, famous for its peaceful artistic vibe, and its pizza place - Give Pizza Chance.
I am staying at yet another beautiful campsite right by the water. This is, once again, a walk-in-only site on an incredibly kind lady's property. It wasn't supposed to be open this time of year, but seeing as there are no other campsites on the island, she let me stay. As well as three other groups of hikers, bikers, and adventure seekers.
I have been struggling with loneliness. I meet those inspired by my journey, but as the sky fades from blue to black, I am left alone like a single star in the night sky. I know it will get better, for I have only been gone 3 days, and every day I wake up, proud of myself for being here and excited about the day that lies ahead.
I wandered beaches and bookstores, breweries, and Japanese gardens where I ran into my campsite neighbours! We chatted for a bit before I wandered the gardens and bumped into them yet again at the park across the road. I stood back and watched creepily for a bit before mustering up all the courage I had to see if they wanted to play horseshoes. Big surprise, they said yes! I was proud of myself for doing what I was too afraid to do last night.
This evening, I sat on a rock until the tide came up and kissed my toes. As time passed, my grumbling tummy grew louder, so I decided to make some dinner. Without even realizing it, I had put my bag down in the middle of a line of ants getting from here to there, creating chaos within their world. Yet to me, all I did was place a bag on the ground. This chain of events reaffirmed the notion that every step we take affects the world around us. Whether that is in the placement of our bags or the words we write. Every choice we make is an opportunity to vote on the kind of world we want to live in, so choose them wisely.
I'm not feeling so lonely anymore.
May 2025
Part 2: Birthday weekend with a stranger
Before leaving on this adventure, I befriended a fellow bikepacker on Facebook. His name is Joe, from London, and today we are meeting on Salt Spring Island, where we will spend the next few days seeing all that we can.
I arrived on Saltspring early, when the sun was still shining, and their famous Saturday market was at its peak, so naturally, I loaded as many fresh fruits and veggies as I could onto my bike and carried it up the monster of a hill to Mowhina Creek Campsite. A place where, many years ago, my friends and I stayed on our very first bike trip. I just so happened to get the same site! Talk about a full circle moment.
When Joe arrived, we were both ready for dinner, so I met him at the bottom of the hill, and we rode into Ganges for a pizza and a pint. He claims to have studied music, yet comes to Canada having never heard of The Tragically Hip?! - New Orleans is sinking rung a bell, he thinks he heard it at a pub somewhere, sounds about right. - With that, we paid our bills and slugged our way back to camp, bellies full of wheat.
Today brought the heat, and as we battled the ever-changing elevation of Salt Spring Island, we were brought to divine Ocean views and cheese factories, where we found refuge in the shade, with the company of creamy goat cheese. Then, finally, a lake with a dock, where the afternoon melted away as we shared stories with strangers, snacked on carrots and cooled off in the lake below our feet.
As the sun began to sink, we made pedals back to camp and passed time in front of a crackling fire, listening to An Aeroplane Over The Sea. It was a beautiful day.
I woke to the pitter-patter of rain on my tent this morning, and smiled to myself, rain on my Birthday, what a treat. As I unzipped my tarp, I stepped into a world bursting with life. Boy, do I love the West Coast.
Today, Joe and I part ways; he is heading back down to Victoria, and I'm continuing to
Lake Cowichan. Luckily, we are both taking the boat over to Duncan, so we made a day of it, stopping for coffee while waiting for the ferry and having a picnic lunch in the town square after a beautiful cruise through the countryside of the Pearl of the Pacific Northwest.
The rest of the day was exhausting, from wrong turns to long detours and leaky tires, I slogged along at a snail's pace to a campsite I thought I would never see. Once I arrived, I made a cup of tea, had some snacks near the Cowichan River and set up my tent before buying some firewood from the park Ranger. Unfortunately, I had no paper, no kindling and no hatchet. I retired to my tent, exhausted from a long day of being alive.
Happy Birthday, Erin.
May-June 2025
Part 3: Cowichan Lake - Port Alberni
Today I woke up, packed up, and walked my bike up the big hill to get out of camp. I am riding to Gordon Bay Provincial Park, where my friend, Sister, and Stewie — a 1990 Ford Ranger with an LS built with my sister's blood, sweat, and tears, and lowered 4in. Sounds like the perfect camping rig to me!— will meet me for a couple of nights of laughs, and a
weekend full of Beyond Meat burgers, Birthday Girl rules.
Alone again- my ride today was supposed to be a short 50km, but with the sun shining and the sky blue, it was hard to stop pedalling. I rode 107km mostly on logging roads, through ancient forest and alongside rushing rivers, ending up at China Creek Campsite just outside of Port Alberni. During the first leg of today, I stumbled upon a gravel race heading the other way, cheering on one another on as we fly past each other in blurs of colours. Conveniently, I stopped at their refuelling station for a couple of bananas and a water refill; apparently, I was their first customer of the day. " Good luck, young lady!" I heard as I said my goodbyes and continued along the dusty road ahead of me.
As I rode, I reached ultimate flow state, my tunes carried me, and the warm June sun filled me with joy.
Most of the road today was flat, with minor inclines, up until the final stretch, where I was forced to climb for two hours. I was just about to let the first tear leak out of my eye when, at my feet, a butterfly appeared. I picked it up out of the middle of the road and gave it the experience of flight without having to flap any wings. It was good for morale.
I rolled out of bed this morning and had to pinch myself as I wandered down to the Ocean to sip my coffee and eat my oatmeal. As I sipped, I took notice of the crow that had been following me for a day or so. I know when it is near, for over the deafening silence, I can make out the sounds of its wings flapping and the tapping of its claws.
Today, I washed almost all my stinky clothes and cycled into town, where I met someone who had just finished an 8-month cycling trip to Panama! It was crazy and inspiring to hear all their extraordinary stories, what an adventure that must've been! Back at camp, I read my book, walked in the river and finished off the Birthday cookies Dad made for me. It felt like a "day ay home - where - you - pitch it" .
June 2025
Part 3: Bamfield
Holy hell, today was demoralizing. I climbed, climbed, and climbed, fought headwinds in the beating-hot sun, and spent the last 30k with a leaky tire. Everything in me wanted to give up.
"Left, right, left, right" is what I told myself over and over until I arrived in Bamfield sweaty, snotty, and teary-eyed. I booked myself into a motel, and boy am I glad I did. The wind is howling, and the sky teases with rain.
Within an hour, I had fallen head over heels in love with the place, though I hadn't seen much. There is a presence in the land that makes you feel home.
Last night, I was lulled to sleep by the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of gunfire from my neighbour's TV, only to be woken by the banging of hammers above. I missed the peace that comes with a night in the tent.
So, I packed up my room, left my bike with the receptionist and set out to explore what may be the most incredible place I have yet to see. On the land of the Huu-Ay-Aht First Nations, lies Bamfield, a community connected by a boardwalk and split into two by the Sea. There are both the East and West sides of this unique town. I am staying on the East, so I hopped into the water taxi and was off to explore the West. My first stop was the
Merchantile, where I was treated with kindness from everyone I spoke to and stumbled upon the best apple fritter I have ever had. I was then urged to visit Brady's Beach, so I did. As I made my way there, I was stopped by many locals for a chat, met cute dogs, and, as I took that first step onto Brady's beach, felt a wave of emotion wash over me. For I have never seen a place quite like this.
The sun was high, the sky was blue, and the tide was out. I walked down the beach, sat on a bench perched high on a rock to watch the ocean, read my book, and counted the many starfish that inhabit the scattered tide pools. This is a place of pure magic; my soul feels alive. I can hardly even remember all the hardship it took to get here yesterday. Tonight, I sleep at the Eileen Scott Centennial Campsite.
What a night, I was carried off to sleep by the croaking of the frogs and the distant sound of the ocean. I met a fellow camper who had kayaked over from a fishing lodge where she is working this summer. We chatted for a while, mosied to the convenience store for chocolate
and beer, and talked about what a special place we have found. She inspired me to go on a kayaking adventure.
This morning, I took my home and carried it to Pachena Bay Campsite for my last night in Bamfield. It reminds me a lot of Tofino, with far fewer tourists and a calmer, more natural feel. It also just so happens to be either the beginning or the end of the West Coast Trail - a 75km coastal trek that takes multiple days to complete- so today, I walked it until I felt like turning around. On my way down the trail, I was buried in the forest and on the way back, I walked with my toes in the sea.
I had plugged my portable charger in to charge in the bathroom, checking on it regularly and hoping that nobody would steal it, to have it disappear on me. I left a note asking whoever took it to please return it, as I am living off my bicycle, but no luck. However, as I was rummaging around at my campsite, my neighbour asked if I was the one who had lost their charger. I said yes, trying not to sound overly stressed, and before I knew it, she was handing me her phone charger.
Thank you for everything, Bamfield.
June 2025
Part 4: Port Alberni and Comox Lake
It was a bittersweet goodbye to Bamfield this morning, as I boarded the Lady Rose Marine and was carried up the Alberni Inlet. The boat ride was glorious, with a warm summer's day and a light breeze; the four-and-a-half-hour ferry felt like a blink of an eye. I read my book,
ate some bread and hummus, and made friends with the captain, who invited me to steer his ship.
In Port Alerni, I checked myself into a hostel, did some much-needed grocery shopping, made friends with a group of older ladies, who invited me to sit with them and talk about life, and prepared for an early departure tomorrow morning. I plan to leave before the sun comes up, as I have a lot of ground to cover and a heatwave is coming.
“I can’t do this anymore”, I thought, as I pushed my bike up what I’d hoped to be the last hill of the day. I had woken before the sun, intending to reach camp before the heatwave was at its peak, but I had run out of time. The sun was now at its highest point in the sky, mocking me as I slowly rode my fully loaded bike down one hill only to face another, without enough momentum to carry me up the next. This was the pattern of the day, riding from Port Alberni to Cumberland along the mosaic of logging roads that stretched behind and around Comox Lake. I wanted to give up.
I was finally coming face-to-face with the logging roads that Reddit users warned me
about. I spent the day climbing over closed gates, following Google Maps through thick bush, summiting mountains, riding through graveyards where giants once stood tall, and jumping into the cold lake when the sun got too unbearable.
With the unforgiving heat, sore muscles, and demanding climbs, I was tired. I had waved down a vehicle, with sweat seeping out of every hole in my body and tears streaming from my eyes, to ask how much longer I had until I got to Cumberland. "A couple more hills" is all he said before driving off.
Just as I was about to stick out my thumb, a truck slowed to a stop beside me, and a nice young man asked if I was okay. "These hills are just so steep" is all I could say, and before I knew it, he was lifting my bike into the bed of his truck, handing me water, and driving me all the way to my campsite. His truck sailed over every pothole and loose rock like it was nothing. I felt like I was floating on a cloud.
I continue to be inspired by the kindness of strangers. When I got to camp, I discovered that my neighbours are some of the warmest people I have ever met, plus their dog may be one of the cutest. They invited me over for some drinks, asked all about my adventure, let me store my food in their vehicle so I didn't have to string it in a tree, and gave me their numbers in case I need anything.
This morning, I was the first person in line at the Cumberland Bakery, I wandered the streets of this cute mountain biking town, and had a burrito from Biblio Taco at the 'China Bowls'—a unique point along the river where the water has carved smooth pot-holes into the rock.
Arriving back at camp, my neighbours, Wendy and Marcus, invited me for a drink and gave me an apple, wanting to be sure I was fueling my body with healthy food. "Let your parents know that you have people looking after you."
June 2025
Part 5: Hornby Island
I left my site in Cumberland, went to the bakery, and made the tough decision of where to go next. I decided to visit Denman Island. Luckily, it wasn't a long ride; my body is tired.
When I arrived at the ferry, I spoke to fellow cyclists who told me Hornby was a place I couldn't miss. So I made my way across Denman to the ferry to Hornby, and I'm ever glad I did! This place is beautiful. There is a beach with water so blue; I feel like I have been taken
back to Australia, and there is so much forest to get lost in.
Though from the second I woke up, I was counting down the minutes until I could crawl back into bed, and I woke from my ciesta drenched in sweat; my campsite gets full sun throughout the hottest hours of the day. I changed my flat tire, then enjoyed the tranquillity of the beach.
I woke at 7 am to yet another flat tire. As I was on my final step in repairing it, I snapped the rear axle of my bike and immediately went back to bed. I woke again an hour later, hoping that it had only been a bad dream, but alas, I was not. The bike shop on Hornby is permanently closed, and my day was spent talking to camp staff and Home Hardware employees, sorting through the bikes abandoned at the dump, and knocking on random doors locals sent me to, in search of anyone who could help. I found myself in a beautiful home, waiting for a Bob the Builder type, and drinking tea with his wife and kids, but no luck.
My final glimpse of hope was the campground guests checking out tomorrow, so I asked the woman in the office who was leaving, hoping to find someone to ask for a ride on my desperation lap. As I was leaving the office, she yelled after me, "Wait! My partner and I are going to the Big Island tomorrow and can bring you and your bike over!"
With that, I breathed a sigh of relief and jumped into the ocean.
Rumour has it that Hornby has the most spectacular sunrises, so naturally I decided to wake up at 4 am to catch a glimpse. To my surprise, the sky was full of clouds, blocking any chance of a sunrise worth waking up that early for. It's okay, though. I still had a lovely morning, sitting in my sleeping bag, playing the harmonica, and nursing a hot drink with the beach all to myself. By the time 8:30 had rolled around, Lyric and Regan were loading my bike and gear into their van, and another adventure was underway!
We all clicked immediately, and I spent the day with them, picking up their new dog from the airport, going to Costco, and finally, the bike store. I decided to go back to Hornby with them for another night or two, and they let me sleep in their hammock for free! Thank God for minivans; I don't think a day like today would have been possible without them. What other vehicle could fit a bike, camping gear, a big Costco haul, a new dog, and an extra person (me).
Chapter 6: The road home
Today I left Hornby- For real this time, and Regan and Lyric drove me to the ferry. I bid them farewell and told them to give me a call if the campsite needs any help in the last few months of summer, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed!
We are barely halfway through June, and already, I have woken to a view hazy from wildfire smoke. When Regan and Lyric aren't working on Hornby, they live in Calgary, though they long to be free from that place. With winters growing colder and summers growing warmer, there is no escape from the extremes of both seasons. We are shooting ourselves with our finger on the trigger.
As I creep closer to Victoria, the song of the birds becomes choked out by the sounds of industry, and the pulp mill overrides the smells of the living world. I crave a life away from all the noise.
For the next few days, I stayed with my aunie in Qualicum. I babysat her dogs while she spent the day in Vancouver. We watched the sun go down, danced at their annual street party, drank wine, and enjoyed the company of loved ones.
This time tomorrow, I will be home. I rode into Duncan today and reminisced about passing through here at the beginning of my trip with one of my new friends. I feel like in these few short weeks, I am coming back to Duncan a different person than the one who passed through all those kilometres ago.
The campsite I am staying at has no privacy whatsoever, and my view is of industrial buildings just over the fence. I can't believe that by this time tomorrow, this ride will be nothing but a memory. I don't want to lose the feeling this trip has brought me, the power in my body, the sense of complete and utter freedom, and learning to be kind to myself when I get off my bike and push it up the big hills.
I remember the first day of my trip, the peace that came with the realization that the only place I have to be is right where I am, slipping into the routine of the sun, exploring this beautiful place I call home. I chose when to pack up and move on, when to pull over for lunch, and when enough is enough—looking for a place to happen, making stops along the way.
Well, here I am, home sweet home. I woke to the industrial din around 5. Thanks, Duncan. Fell back asleep until 6:15 before deflating my sleeping mattress and packing up my tent for the last time.
Last night, one of my biggest fears came true. A group of bikepacking high schoolers pulled into the site beside me, and, thanks to the zero-privacy campsite, I heard all their complaints about pedalling all day and now having to set up camp and cook dinner. Anyways, my first stop of the day was True Grain Bakery in Cowichan Bay, before heading to the Mill Bay ferry, skipping the Malahat climb, and getting soaked in a quick episode of sideways rain and gray skies. It's poetic how the only days I got rain on my trip were my birthday and now, Dad's birthday!
Waiting in line for the ferry, I met a fellow bikepacker from, guess where, the UK! She, too,
was riding a bike with skinny tires, LOADED with crap, and had been given'er on the logging roads behind Comox Lake. We bonded over the trauma and laughed, and laughed over a cuppa joe and a pastry at my favourite spot, Mosi. It was a beautiful way to end a trip.
I got home and feasted on a Birthday dinner of burgers and cake, but I won't be home long, as I landed a job at the campsite on Hornby and will spend the rest of my summer living out my dreams in a trailer by the beach.
What a life. Thank you,
Amazing amazing amazing!