Sunday, July 26, 2009

Duffy Lake Motorcycle Camp Out

I am in my little blue motorcycle tent on the shore of Lake Duffy with my little ACER laptop. I left the motorcycle hidden off the road. Not an easy chore with a heavy Harley. I drove it behind some pilings and locked a chain through them ,then cut some shrub to conceal the reflective parts.

The flies have been terrible though. Thanks to Watson’s DEET Lotion, I’ve survived them but would have liked to have remembered more green bug coils. The Indians used to smear mud all over themselves from spring to fall. That and cedar bark clothes make Luddites unattractive. I need a space age light weight bug proof motorcycle gazebo.

I followed a couple of motorcyclists on the road hauling trailers and thought after the Electro glyde that would be the way to go. Alternatively I could stay home or in 5 star hotels. When does camping cease to be camping.

This is the glorious outdoors. And I love it. Unbelievable. Fishing, I didn’t catch any, but enjoyed watching the fish chase my hook. Serious fishermen have been spoiling the fish with worms. Either that or they’ve pigged out on flies. Power to the fishies!

The mountains, the green lake, the blue sky , the sun setting behind the mountains, the sound of waves

Here I am alone on the side of a lake after a day of motorcycling. It was a heck of a climb down from the road though. I’m not looking forward to hauling the gear back up. Glad my saddle bags came off. And I’ve drunk a lot of the drinks I picked up at the Mount Currie Indian Reserve Store. Now it’s time to read till it’s dark. I cooked a can of chucky chicken noodle soup and have the camp stove and expresso machine ready for morning. This is just great.

When I left home I really wanted to swim in fresh water. Well, it’s really cold. So I had what would better be called a dunk. Dive in. Rapid about turn. Swim back to shore. Towel off. Into sleeping bag. I’ve stopped shivering enough to write this.

Night: I forgot the bear banger. I have to get up and pee because of all the drinks. I only brought my leatherman. What’s that going to do to a grizzly or a cougar. What was I thinking when I left the Ken Onion knife. I always carry that at least. I feel better when I’ve got a rifle. Or a dog. Dog would have loved this. I’ll take my camera when I go out to pee. If there’s anything there I’ll flash them and run.

Pre dawn: I dreamed of bashing a bear with a rock and it turned out to be somebody’s pet. All manner of beaurocratic trouble. A Monty Python nightmare. |”Why did you bash this lady’s pet? The police are asking me. “It’s a bear, it startled me in the night.” “You didn’t have to kill it, did you? You have heard of necessary force.” I’m exasperated in the dream.

Dawn: It’s just light and I wake to hear Eagles shrieking overhead. They have such a distinctive call.

Morning: When I am fully awake I look out on a beautiful calm lake, the sun just peeking over the mountains. God gave us bladders to get us out of bed. I have a cold Starbuck’s cappuccino I’ve kept with the other drinks and yogurts in the stream. After that I get a hot coffee going with the amazing Mountain Coop MSR mountain stove and the stove top expresso machine I love. While drinking coffee, I cast a few times then think better of it. I’d have to clean the fish.

I’d rather climb into the tent and read. I take off the fly and read till the sun is overhead then get up and pack up the camp. The files are back. After packing the tent and running the first bag puffing up the hill the the road I come down for between hauling camp swim. I do the dive and spin bit twice. I’d shampooed my hair and needed the extra torture to get the suds off. I towel off in the sun killing the slow moving flies with gusto.

Then it’s motorcycle clothes and hauling the saddlebags topside. I get the bike out from it’s hiding place, pulling away the cut shrubs. Load up.

It’s noon when I leave. Hot ride. Pass through the Mount Currie Reserve and Rodeo. First stop Pemberton. Fill up. Thought of stopping at Whistler for lunch but I’m enjoying the ride. After Whistler I tag onto six bikers from Oregon. I think they think the KM signs are in Miles. It’s a wild ride trying to keep up with them. Eventually they pull off and I’m back at sight seeing speed but that ate up a lot of miles. In Squamish I stop at the biker’s Starbucks, have a double expresso and a bathroom break. I fill up with 91 premium at the Shell. The Chieftain is so impressive. Then it’s a winding trip home with a Ducati following me. Have to pay attention at the new Horseshoe Bay road development. Then its Taylor Way. Crossing the Lion’s Gate Bridge is always a top of the world experience. Specatular views of Coal Harbour and English Bay. Then it’s Denman, Beach Avenue and soon home. 330 pm.

I unload and carry everything up in one load. Scatch cat’s belly. Put out some tuna for her. Then it’s into the shower. From Squamish on it was a really hot ride. Thank God for modern luxuries. After camping everything I take for granted seems so much better. Love this refridgerator cold Santa Cruz Ginger Ale.

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