Beautiful sunny day today, headed north towards Campbell River and whatever camp ground I could snag. On the way I'd stopped to photo more of the Strait of Georgia when a nice lady volunteered to take my pic. Nice gal. But she must have adjusted the image size setting on the camera as the rest of the day's pics turned out smallish. Thenkuvermuch... Courtenay sounded interesting and since I needed to buy a few basic food necessities, ie, MORE TONIC WATER, I headed into that town to see what I could find. Right smack dab in the middle of town was a small mom and pop grocery store complete with parking lot and all so I homed in on it, knowing for certain they'd have exactly what I wanted. Turns out the outside phone booth located at the corner of their store just happens to be appointment headquarters for the local lady of the early afternoon. She was busy-busy making arrangements on the telly when I walked past her, then she sprinted over to a drive-through van, then back to the telly for more calls. Maybe her rates didn't suit the guy in the van? Anyway when I came out she was just hanging up and as I passed she gave me her warmest warm "Hi" lick-lick and I gave her my most many man's grunt/grimace and continued on to the hack. Linda's face looming ever so large everywhere I looked. Not smiling eiher. She strode (wiggled? slithered?) past me and I snapped a hurried pic of her departing posterior, clad in what I'd at first taken to be the shortest hot pants I'd seen in years. Wrong old timer, it was a skirt. Almost. Woo Hoo...
I think it was after that I saw the Old Barn Market and stopped for milk & eggs & bananas, all real manly food items designed to enhance your vigor. Or maybe that's what potasium is for? Anyhoo, I've been amazed at how well milk keeps without refrigeration. Eggs too for that matter. And Spam, well I sort of expected Spam to have a half-life measuring in weeks if not months when exposed to the elements.
Moving right along, once beyond Courtenay and way out in the sticks the fuel reserve light came on. Feeling brave I figured I could make it to the next town on reserve so I lead-footed it on per normal. Funny thing about the Aprilia, when you fill the tank if you don't turn the fuel petcock to the reserve position it doesn't fill the reserve, just the main tank. Which is exactly what I'd done on the previous filling. So be it, out of benzino I was, about 30 miles short of anticipated reserve time. No biggy I thought, I had plenty of fuel on board in the form of two 2.5 gal plastic cans plus a one-litre bottle left over from my last trip, unopened no less. What the heck, I'll use the small bottle as there's a town not far up the road so I did. And true to form it took me just about to it. Just about. Minus about a block or so, and around the corner so the petrol place was not yet in sight. Unpack the trunk again, out comes the can, in goes the gas, repack the trunk, fire it all back up, ride around the corner and there it is, Canada's finest Shell station just waiting. Wot fun, and hot as hell all the time.
After all the entertainment and reserve gas drill exercise I paddled around the city of Campbell River aka Sailboat City taking in the local sights before pulling over to check out the map to see where I was. I guess I must look harmless enough as 3 nice ladies approached to see if they could help. Not the early afternoon working type, these were genuine nice ladies. I resisted the urge to ask if they'd push me to the nearest gas station but it did seem like it might have been fun. Anyway they sent me off in the general direction of Elk Falls and I only had to stop 2 more times for more help. The first was a guy loading groceries in his car who waved his arm randomly and said it's that way, indicating somewhere between north and west in varying degrees. OK, I can do that I thought and I did for another 1/2 mile, then rolled into a small parking lot and asked another guy who as it turned out knew exactly where it was. Unfortunately I don't understand Russian or Polish or whatever the heck he was speaking so I thanked him and continued in the general north or west direction as before. Finally I stopped and tried the GPS, which earlier hadn't a clue but now by some miracle had recovered it's mapping memory so off I went. 15 miles west and sort of northerly I arrived.
Check-in procedure was similar to the last time, a sign at the entrance said pick a spot and someone will be by to collect the money. OK. I did that, choosing a nice site with a sign at the front that said "first come, first served". Finders keepers, eh? Now given my prior experience I questioned the wisdom of setting up shop before getting the official camp guard's blessing but I did it anyway. Right on cue just as I finished setting up the cot and sleeping bag Mr Entertainment 3 sites over goes ballistic with his boom box featuring the latest rave noise or ho rap or whatever the hell they call it now. All sorts of interesting thoughts crossed my mind about how to deal with him when along comes the camp guard, another nice young kid making the world of camping a more enjoyable experience by collecting the fees. I mentioned to him I was thinking about testing my virgin can of Counter Assault spray on Mr Entertainment as I'd neglected to bring my 9mm. Oddly enough, at exactly that moment someone beat me to it as the noise stopped dead and not another sound was heard for the rest of the night. Meanwhile the camp guard kid was becoming very interested in my Counter Assault which I assured him was as harmless as toothpaste and for him not to worry, I was just being a fussy old geezer who'd missed his nap. He understood, I expect I reminded him of his grandfather and he moved along without further comment. Nice kid. Time for a lie down.
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