British Columbia - 1978
This is a journal written by Art Faibisch during his family’s one-month trip to British Columbia in the summer of 1978.
July 18, 1978 – Florence, Oregon
We’re on our way again, this time to British Columbia, by way of Oregon and Washington. The four of us, Misti, our sons David and Mike and myself, off on another adventure in our school bus/camper, Gus. We left three days ago after a one-day recovery from the trauma of quitting my job.
We had originally planned to leave Saturday morning for a three-week vacation, and I intended to submit my resignation at Field Research the day I got back. On the Thursday before we left, my boss, Merv Field, said he wanted to talk with me, and I knew the time had arrived. I gave him the resignation letter I had prepared some weeks back and we made the break more or less amiably. I had been preparing for the split for more than three months and had been phasing myself out of projects which made the departure easier. The actual break wasn’t bad on me. It was a little sad saying my goodbyes, especially to people I had worked with for eleven years. But the feeling of a new beginning had taken hold and overcame the emotional disruption.
We’ve been traveling along the Oregon coast all day, headed for Washington and then on to Victoria by way of ferry from Port Angeles. Misti and I decided not to set any specific itinerary but rather to leave things open for whatever lies ahead. This is a luxury that belongs to those who have lots of time, and we’re beginning to think in terms of unstructured time.
Our originally planned three weeks may grow to four or even five since we have no time commitment to return home. I try to stifle any concerns about money and employment. This is the first time in fifteen years, since 1963, that I’ve been without a paycheck, and I have to be truthful by saying that it does concern me, especially after seeing prices for so many things. But I think I can earn money when I return home, through the business I began, and I’m very excited about the idea of being in business for myself.
We spent our first day traveling through redwood country in California, and our first night in Humboldt State Park on the Eel River. The weather traveling up 101 was perfect, warm but not extremely hot, as it sometimes can be.
We got an early start on Monday, and our first stop was Rockefeller Memorial Redwood Gove, just a few miles from the campground, on the Avenue of the Giants, the name of the scenic road that parallels the freeway. After a short hike, we had breakfast in the serenity and seclusion of the redwoods. It was a coincidence that John P. Rockefeller Jr., who had contributed the land for the memorial grove, had died at the age of 72 just a few days earlier.
July 19, 1978 – Pacific Beach, Washington
We’re camped in a lovely place midway up the State of Washington right on the ocean, a state park in the town of Pacific Beach. Last night we stayed in a state park on the Oregon coast, Beverly Beach, a nice campground, big and best of all, we had our first hot shower since leaving home on Sunday.
Pacific Beach is nicer than so many places we’ve seen on the way up the coast. It’s barely developed, just some tables indicating more or less where you can park and bathrooms with hot showers. I’m sitting at a table and bench drinking the first of what will be several Bloody Mary’s, and the sun has about another fifteen minutes before it will set into the Pacific. Not a bad way to spend an evening.
This place is rugged with lots of driftwood and large logs that have floated onto the beach. The water is about 200 feet from where we’ve camped, a comfortable distance considering the unpredictability of the Pacific. Directly in front of me are twenty or so logs that have been stuck into the sand, big ones about eight to ten feet high.
July 20, 1978 – Pacific Beach, Washington
We decided to stay another day in this campground, since it’s so pleasant and the weather is beautiful. Last night we had a fire on the beach after a delicious dinner of clams, 3 pounds between the four of us, and a tasty fish stew that Misti made. Yesterday we stopped at a fish market in De Poc Bay, Oregon and bought clams, smoked herring and fresh red snapper. We all love seafood and thought we might as well take advantage of the fresh fish and low prices.
Just had an interesting conversation with an old-timer traveling with his wife in a pick-up camper. They’re just completing a 5,000 mile trip through the Southwest and a visit to their daughter in Southern California. He’s an interesting guy, about mid-sixties, retired for some time from an industrial accident. We discussed everybody’s favorite subject, changing times and how to get by. He seems pretty satisfied with his lot, does some traveling and fishing and trying to enjoy his later years. He said the same thing that so many others his age say: his only regret is that he spent too much time working and not enough time living. I told him that many other people his age feel the same way, and many younger people are trying to put more emphasis on living and less on working. He told the familiar story of a relative who saved all his life for retirement and then had a heart attack just after retiring. A cruel joke but so common.
The sun is warm and there’s just a slight breeze, warm enough for T-shirts, and it’s only about 10 a.m. We hope to spend time on the beach getting some sun.
July 21, 1978 – Port Angeles, Washington
I’m sitting on the back step of Gus surrounded by about 100 campers, cars, trailers and everything else you can imagine, in a parking lot waiting for the ferry to Victoria, British Columbia. This is really a slice of America, young families cooking their dinners, people sitting in lounge chairs, all waiting for the ferry.
I did a dumb thing yesterday. The kids wanted to take the inflatable boat out on a small river that fed into the ocean. I agreed, and the three of us carried it to the river and pumped it up. We floated around for a while and then I thought we should use the small outboard motor we had. I got it going, and we started up the river, but quickly ran into a problem with submerged logs. The propeller hit a log and stopped turning, even though the engine was on.
Using the tool kit we carry in the boat bag, I changed the shear pin, but the propeller still wouldn’t turn. Apparently the gear that connects the drive shaft to the propeller shaft was broken, and I wasn’t able to remove the casing to see. In Victoria we plan to take it to an outboard motor shop and have it repaired. With the wonderful lakes in British Columbia I’d really like to have the engine working.
The ferry gets here at 9:00, in another 45 minutes. We’ve been waiting since about 3, did some food shopping in Port Angeles and just looked around the town. Behind us are parked three women from Maryland, traveling in a small camper, and Misti talked with them about Baltimore.
July 22, 1978 – Victoria, British Columbia
We crossed into Canada last night on the ferry Coho, from Port Angeles to Victoria. The crossing of the Straits of Juan de Fuca is about one hour and you can see the lights of both shores from the middle. The kids were very excited about the ferry trip and it was fun. The sea was calm, a full orange moon and almost balmy weather.
Victoria is celebrating the 200th birthday of British Columbia and the harbor was filled with tall ships of all sizes. The ferry docked across from the Eagle, an American Coast Guard cutter built in 1936, and the largest of the Tall Ships visiting Victoria.
We spent the first night in Victoria parked in Beacon Hill Park near the children’s zoo. It was about 11:30 p.m. by the time we landed and cleared customs, just a few questions and no hassle, and we looked for a place to park. We found an isolated area in the park where we stayed the night. We woke up to the sound of peacocks, which sounded like loud and angry cats.
We’ve had a busy day, sightseeing from about 7 this morning until about 9 this evening. We toured the Parliament building, the Provincial Museum, had lunch at the Empress Hotel, went on a Japanese and Canadian warship, toured the Eagle and a Danish Tall Ship, and looked around the waterfront and wharf area.
We were impressed with the Parliament building and managed a free tour from a young man who was a docent. The building is magnificent. It’s been in the process of restoration for the past several years and they’ve done a beautiful job, marble, tile, wood, gold leaf, a work of art. The talk about how BC government functions was interesting and we saw where Parliament meets.
The Provincial Museum was outstanding, one of the finest we’ve ever seen, relatively new, completed in 1967, with work still going on to complete exhibits. The entrance hall shows a waterfall fountain and a huge, perhaps 50 feet long, wooden carving of Indians in a long canoe hunting a whale.
The museum gets better as you go through it. The museum succeeded in recreating the past, with sights and sounds, so that you have the feeling of being transported back to earlier times. A railroad station with every minute detail including the realistic sounds of a steam locomotive, a blacksmith shop with the sound of horseshoes being hammered out, and so on. The creators wisely avoided using human figures since even the best usually look phony. We toured the museum for about an hour and a half before the kid got too restless.
We decided to have the buffet lunch at the Empress Hotel, a grand old hotel on Government Street, facing the water. The elegant dining room convinced us that a leisurely lunch was in order. The buffet was OK, but not spectacular, and the price was right at $3.95 each. We took our time eating and enjoyed the grandeur of the lovely old hotel.
Since the line of people waiting to tour the Eagle was very long, we didn’t want to wait in the sun, since Victoria has been having a heat wave with temperatures in the low nineties, we decided to visit the Japanese and Canadian warships in Esquimalt Harbor, about three miles from the center of Victoria.
The kids were impressed with the two Japanese warships, destroyer escorts, both fairly new, built in 1969. The Japanese seamen were courteous and managed as best they could with limited English. After seeing these ships, we returned to the waterfront to see the Eagle, which was open from 6 to 8 p.m. The ship is used by the U.S. Coast Guard to train its officers, with all voyages almost entirely under sail. It was built in Germany in 1936 and used during the Second World War by the Germans. It was surrendered to the Americans in 1945 and has been used by the Coast Guard ever since. It’s 295 feet long, has three masts and dominates the inner harbor.
After seeing the Eagle, we returned to Gus and drove back to the same parking place in Beacon Hill Park for dinner and to spend the night. After walking and sightseeing all day, the four of us were exhausted.
July 23, 1978 – Victoria, British Columbia
We slept late today realizing it would be a long day. A fireworks display is set for 10 p.m. and we plan to see it from the roof of Gus, who is parked right on the wharf about 100 feet from the Eagle.
I ran about a mile this morning, something I started doing a few days ago in Washington. Now that I’ll be working on my own, I feel that I have more of a responsibility for my health and well-being. Also, as we travel, running will give me an opportunity to see more of the countryside.
We spent early afternoon having lunch at the Princess Mary Restaurant, a ship that used to operate on Vancouver Island and was converted into a restaurant in 1958, and we then explored downtown Victoria. The city appears much larger and cosmopolitan than its quarter million population would lead you to believe. It has an international flair and the waterfront area is filled with impressive old buildings and commemorative sites going back to when Victoria was founded as a trading post for the Hudson Bay Company.
July 25, 1978 – Bamberton Provincial Park, Vancouver Island, Canada.
We’ve been having a wonderful time, seeing exciting things, meeting nice people, relaxing and enjoying the leisure of not working. We’re now camped in Bamberton Provincial Park, 20 miles north of Victoria on Vancouver Island, arriving yesterday afternoon after spending three days and nights in Victoria. We’ve met some people here, Dennis and Shirley and their kids, and stayed up late last night drinking wine and talking with another couple from Ontario. We’ll probably stay here for another one or two days.
Let me finish relating what we’ve done so far. After lunch Sunday at the Princess Mary restaurant we split up, Misti and I going to see Craigdarroch Castle on Fort Street and the kids going back to Gus to ride their bikes and explore.
To see the fireworks we decided to park Gus in the municipal parking lot on the Inner Harbor. After leaving Beacon Hill Park we went right to the lot and were lucky to get a spot right on the waterfront. The tall ship Eagle was about 100 feet from where Gus was parked, our dining room, bedroom, bathroom, all rolled into one.
It was a festive day, dancing and singing all along the waterfront, throngs of people awaiting the sunset ceremonies and fireworks, and people visiting the Tall Ships. Behind our back door was a little park with benches where people would stop and rest and, if we had our door open, they’d look in out of curiosity. At 8:00 there was a ceremony with BC dignitaries presenting awards to the tall ships that were participating in the bicentennial celebration. After, there was a parade of Canadian armed forces with music provided by a Canadian navy band. As they played the Canadian national anthem, most of the people in the crowd sang the words, a moving and tear-evoking experience. I sensed a strong feeling of national pride that one doesn’t often find in the U.S. The ceremony ended with two twelve-pound cannons firing salvos of blanks. The earth shook and the air was filled with cordite and it was a thrill.
We returned to Gus to watch the fireworks display. The wind came up and it was cold as we sat on Gus’s roof and watched 30 minutes of not especially spectacular fireworks. They made up in quantity what they lacked in quality.
The next morning we awoke at 6:00 a.m. to watch the Eagle pull out, bound for Vancouver. It was a thrill to watch the beautiful ship turn in the Inner Harbor with men standing on the spars of the masts. We spent the rest of Monday tending to things that needed to be done; changing money and getting a cash advance at the Royal Bank, since our funds were running low. We also found a place to repair the outboard engine, Victoria Lawnmower Hospital, recommended by a marine supply house on the waterfront.
We had lunch along the waterfront and the kids played in a tide pool that contained all sorts of life, crabs of all sizes, various kinds of small fish and bugs and even an eel. I found a piece of driftwood that I thought would make a nice sign and then decided to use it for a bike rack on the front of Gus. It gives Gus a rustic look and makes it easier to carry the kid’s bikes.
July 26, 1978 – Bamberton Provincial Park, Vancouver Island, Canada
This is our third day here. It’s raining and we’ve decided this is as good a place as any to sit out the rain. British Columbia has been experiencing a severe drought and this is the first rain in six weeks. There is a ban on open fires of any kind, including hibachis, with fines of $1,000. The logging industry has been shut down because the forests are tinder dry.
The sound of rain pattering on Gus’s metal roof is relaxing and the coolness and freshness of the air is delightful. We’re cooped up in Gus but are enjoying reading and playing games. It’s a nice respite.
Yesterday was very hot and we spent the day on the beach. We took the inflatable boat and David and I did some fishing, but we didn’t catch anything. Dennis, our neighbor at the campground, had lent us a device called a buzz bomb, which makes a sound that attracts fish as it moves through the water. Within a few minutes my rod came alive, but unfortunately my line wasn’t heavy enough for whatever was on the other end, and it snapped.
Last night we had Shirley and Dennis over for dinner. It was Dennis’ birthday and Misti made a pot of spaghetti which we had with home baked bread and a bottle of red wine. Dennis was manager of a construction company on Vancouver Island when about a year ago he came down with multiple sclerosis, which put him in the hospital for three months. He had to relearn how to walk and do other things but now it’s impossible to tell that he was ever ill. He’s on disability insurance and has returned to school to complete his degree.
July 29, 1978 – Pacific Rim National Park, Canada
We’re starting our second day in what must be one of the most beautiful places in the world, Pacific Rim National Park, on the west coast of Vancouver Island. We have a campsite, which is no easy accomplishment since there are only 92 sites and hundreds of campers vying for them. We got here yesterday morning at 8:30 and waited in a line of 20 cars for about 2 hours. It was worth the wait.
The scenic beauty of this area is overwhelming. The long curving beach with rock outcroppings, tidal pools, lush vegetation amidst the tall cedar trees, and a solitude created by the forest meeting the ocean that is almost religious. We plan to stay at least through Monday and then head back to the eastern coast of Vancouver and then North.
We left Bamberton Park Thursday morning after staying three days and nights. We said farewell to our friends, exchanged addresses, and told them to be sure to see us on their next trip to California. The night before we met two friends of Shirley and Dennis, Larry and Sandy, who live in Ladysmith on Vancouver Island, and we talked with them.
Sandy is n interesting person, heavyset and a person who speaks her mind, which I respect. In the course of our conversation, we mentioned that it had been a week since we last had a shower, and she volunteered that we were welcome to stop by her house for a bath. When she drew us a map with directions we knew she was serious.
We set out Thursday morning to head north up the coast and weren’t sure if we would head toward Campbell River on the east coast or Long Beach on the west coast. We had heard that Long Beach was a pretty spot and a friend had told us about Campbell River, renowned for its salmon fishing.
Our first stop was Sandy’s house for a much needed bath. We learned a lot from Sandy about Vancouver Island and the state of things in Canada, and discussed living in the U.S. versus Canada. She was amazed at the high rentals and medical costs in California. In B.C. they pay about $3 a month for health care and then $1 for a hospital visit. Maybe someday the U.S. will come to realize that inexpensive health care for all is a necessity.
Sandy convinced us that we should head for Long Beach and she called a neighbor to check on road conditions and weather. The drive to Long Beach was a pretty one, beautiful lakes and forests, snow-capped mountains and a serenity due to the knowledge that we weren’t surrounded by throngs of cars and people.
At 7 pm we stopped at the Pacific Rim National Park information center and were told that the park was filled but there were campsites available at the commercial campgrounds, outside park. We went to a campground outside the park, but first stopped at a fish store and bought 2 pounds of fresh salmon, which we had for dinner, the first of what promised to be many delicious salmon meals.
When we were waiting in line Friday morning to get into the National Park campground, a guy told us how to get fresh salmon cheap or for free. He said he went to the docks in Tofino, the nearest town, and traded the fishermen beer for salmon that were too small to sell to the cannery. Yesterday we tried this and bought a 5 pound salmon from a fisherman for $5, a great price considering that salmon sells locally for $3 a pound.
July 30, 1978 – Pacific Rim National Park, Canada
I’m sitting in Gus by myself since Misti and the kids have gone to the evening nature program. I believe it’s about Florencia Bay tonight, one of the bays that comprise Long Beach. It’s cool, just getting dark and the fog is in. I’ve got the oven on to keep Gus warm and am thinking of soon going to bed.
Last night we had a delicious salmon dinner, the third night in a row we’ve had fresh salmon. The kids went to a two-hour park activity and we invited Reed and Wendy for dinner, two people from Baltimore that we met while waiting in line to get into the campground. They both grew up in Baltimore and knew many of the same places that Misti talked about. They marveled at Gus and envied the full kitchen, headroom and bathroom. They had been traveling for six weeks in a van and plan to stay out another month before returning to Baltimore. They plan to be in San Francisco next week and we may see them there.
After dinner Misti, Reed and I went down to the beach to watch the marine life in the tide-pools. We took flashlights to illuminate the pools and also to find our way, since there was no moon and it was inky black. The sky was amazing, clear with millions of sparkling stars. We saw several shooting stars, one of which left a trail of smoke and seemed more like a comet. The tide-pools were teeming with life, crabs of all sizes and colors, small fish and insects. Each was a world unto itself with all its citizens scurrying around as we shone our lights into the water.
At one point, Misti disappeared as Reed and I were concentrating on a crab. She had walked off into the dark to watch the stars and could see us because of the flashlights, but we couldn’t see her. At first I had the eerie feeling that she was taken by aliens, and Reed was mumbling something about Bigfoot, but then I saw her shadow in the distance and was relieved that she hadn’t disappeared.
Today I finished reading the book Roots and was deeply moved by its final pages. I had started the book just before we left and was quite involved in it. The descriptions of life as a slave and the following of Haley’s family from generation to generation, was very powerful, and I suspect the book will have a lasting impact on my views toward Black people.
We spent most of yesterday on Long Beach taking in the sun, reading, eating and building sand castles. The beach is magnificent and the weather has been outstanding. Today was the first day we had fog, although the afternoon was sunny and nice. We took the inflatable out and tried to fish, but the water was too shallow, and we had problems motoring because of the heavy seaweed.
July 31, 1978 – Comax, Vancouver Island
This morning we left our campsite at Long Beach after spending five days there and enjoying every minute. We hated to leave but knew the road waited and there were was much more to see. Before we left we took the beach nature walk at Wickanmish Beach, and the ranger explained tidal action, how the sun and moon affect the tides, how waves and currents are formed, water temperature, marine life and other things.
The ranger was a young guy, obviously very involved with his work. He had us all take off our shoes and socks and get into the water up to our ankles, then slush around in the sand. He did most of his explaining by drawing pictures in the sand with a pointer he carried in his knapsack. It was enjoyable and informative, but unfortunately the kids didn’t want to go and preferred to stay in Gus reading comics and playing cards. They missed a valuable learning experience.
We’re now camped in what must be the ugliest place on Vancouver Island, Talson’s Trailer Park, in the town of Comax, 40 miles south of Campbell River. Why are we here when we passed hundreds of beautiful spots? We decided it was cleaning time, showers for everyone and three pillow cases of laundry. It’s Monday and our last showers were Thursday at Sandy’s house and our laundry had piled up so we had no clean clothing. Provincial and national parks don’t have showers or laundries, so we decided it was time to spend a night at a private campground, even though they’re not as scenic and are more expensive.
Misti went through the AAA camping book and chose a campground that sounded good. When we arrived we saw it was awful, but didn’t care because it was only for one night and we were able to take showers and do the laundry. Mike made a friend in the playground, which has a cute wooden roller coaster that he loved.
A word about the cost of living in British Columbia. Food here is incredibly expensive, roughly a third to one half higher than the Bay Area. Canned goods, meat and poultry are especially expensive. We seem to shop about every other day and usually spend about $15 - $20, but it seems we’re always running out of things. Today we did a major shopping, $70, at a store in Parksville, where the manager was nice and let us cash a check. We stocked up on durables since we’ll probably be in Canada for at least another week. We just began our third week out.
August 2, 1978 - Campbell River, Vancouver Island
Last night we stayed at McIver Beach, six miles above the town of Campbell River. We were looking for a nice beach and lake to use our boat, and happened upon McIver Lake. We stayed the day going out in our inflatable fishing, but didn’t catch any fish, which didn’t surprise me since I’ve never had great luck with fishing, but do enjoy the boating part.
The lake is in a beautiful setting with snow-capped mountains, deep blue water, an irregular shoreline with many inlets and a sandy beach. There was a sign saying “No Camping” which we disregarded, and no one bothered us.
An interesting experience last night. A group of about 20 people had gathered for a party, 50 feet from where we were parked, and we could hear them singing in German and playing the accordion. At about 9, they all came by Gus dancing in a string and they invited us to join them. They told us they were Swiss, and were celebrating the day of Swiss independence, called Dominion Day, which happened in the year 1291. They were a cheerful bunch, and we talked for awhile before the party broke up.
That night the sky was magnificent, incredibly bright stars and clear with the absence of any city lights. We saw several shooting stars, but nothing like the smoking shooting star we saw at Long Beach, which we thought was a comet. Campbell River is nice, renowned for salmon fishing, and attracting people from thousands of miles away to fish these waters.
This afternoon we decided to try our luck and catch a salmon. Someone we met on the beach recommended “Lucky Louis” as being one of the more honest places that rent fishing boats and gear. We decided we’d go late afternoon and hopefully catch the evening bite. We rented a fourteen foot open skiff with a 20 horsepower Johnson outboard. When we got into the river, we realized that the tide was going out into Georgia Strait, and the water was getting rough. But the boat was very seaworthy and, other than being scary, we didn’t have any problems.
The people that rent the boats make it easy, they rig the lines, show you what to do, how far to go down and so forth. Unfortunately, the fish weren’t biting. There were close to a hundred boats and we didn’t see anyone catching a fish. But the boat ride was fun and we learned a thing or two. Total cost for the three hours was $21, not bad, but it would have been nicer if we had caught a fish.
August 3, 1978 – Campbell River, Vancouver Island
We spent last night at Elk Falls Provincial Park, a few miles outside of Campbell River. We got there late, just as it was getting dark, we were all exhausted from the boat ride, and were asleep by 9:30. We ate Kentucky Fried Chicken, only the third meal we bought. Misti is a wonderful cook, and even though our school bus accommodations are a bit primitive, we eat like royalty.
After spending most of the day on McIver Lake, we decided we’d seen enough of the Campbell River area and it was time to move on, so we caught the 7:15 p.m. ferry from Comax to Powell River, taking us from Vancouver Island across to the mainland. From there we will have to take two more ferries to get to Vancouver City. We had an incident while loading Gus onto the ferry: a hook sticking out the side of Gus broke the mirror on a van next to us, but the driver was very nice and said the ferry people would take care of it.
We pulled into Powell River just as the sun was setting and the view was magnificent. We tried to get into a municipal campground on the beach, but it was full, so we moved a block down from the campground, to a street along the water, and parked Gus there for the night, just in time to watch a spectacular sky with patchwork clouds lit by a blazing sun.
We talked with some people who had come to watch the sunset and they told us about a treasure hunt that was underway. We learned there was $850 hidden in a tin can on the beach, under a rock, and there were hordes of people on the beach looking for it. Of course the kids were quick to get down to the beach and look.
August 4, 1978 – Powell River, British Columbia
We stayed the night in Powell River and will probably stay today and tonight before heading for Saltery Bay, and the first of two ferries, which will take us to Vancouver. We’re parked on a bluff overlooking the Strait of Georgia, which separates Vancouver Island from mainland British Columbia, near the entrance to Powell River Harbor. Beneath us is a rocky beach with about 100 people searching for a treasure that a local columnist hid under a rock about a month ago. People have all but torn the place up, following the clues that appear in the newspaper. So far, no one has found it, which might be somewhat embarrassing to the newspaper. It’s $500 in cash plus another $350 in prizes. Misti, of course, has been down there all morning.
Last night, after the kids went to bed, we went into town to look around. We walked down to the fishing pier and tonight hope to buy a fresh fish from one of the boats. We had our first taste of Canadian pizza last night- it was good, but different from the pizza we’re accustomed to, more cheese and less tomato sauce and a thick crust.
David is planning to go fishing off the municipal pier, about a half-mile from where we’re camped. He so much wants to catch a fish and plays around with the rod and reel, trying different lures and lines. I wish I knew more about fishing or was more interested in it so I could help him. I told him that when we get back we’ll go fishing with Michael Taylor who is a pretty good fisherman.
Yesterday, I had the feeling of wanting to get on with the trip and start heading for home. I think it was due to either boredom or just wanting to move on to another place. I was tired of Campbell River and ready for a new adventure. One thing I like about traveling is not knowing what lies ahead. We mostly don’t make plans about where to go or when. If we like a place, we stay awhile and if we don’t like it, we move on. This seems to work well and experience usually enables you to point your nose in good directions. Maybe we’re not very fussy, but we seem to like most places.
I’m surprised how little I think about leaving my job and what lies ahead when I return. Every once in a while, especially when I’m driving long stretches of road, I think of what happened just before we left on our trip, and then realize I’m actually unemployed for the first time in 15 years. I don’t allow myself to be frightened by the prospect and know I can earn a good living.
August 6, 1978 – Earl’s Cove, British Columbia
After staying two days in Powell River, we decided it was time to move on and we headed toward Saltery Bay. We thought we’d stay at the Provincial Park, but it was filled, likely because it was a three-day holiday weekend with Monday being BC Day. The ride from Powell River to Saltery Bay was short and scenic. We expected more of a town, but there was only the ferry landing and a parking lot. We decided we’d take the ferry across last night and see what the other side had to offer.
Misti thought there might be a small town, and possibly a campground, at Earl’s Cove, which is the ferry terminal on the way to Vancouver. We took the 7:30 ferry and decided to hold dinner for the other side. The crossing was pleasant, great scenery and a mild summer evening. There were only ten cars, and about 30 people, so we had the entire upper deck to ourselves.
As soon as we landed, Misti saw a spot that looked like a perfect place to spend the night, on the water overlooking Agamemnon Islet, with snow-capped mountains in the distance. There was a trailer and Volkswagen bus already camped, and we became friendly with a couple from Vancouver, Marie and Dick. He’s a flyer that shuttles people locally and she’s from Kenya and has lived in Canada about five years.
August 7, 1978 – Earl’s Cove, British Columbia
This is our third day in this lovely spot. We’ve become friendly with Dick and Marie and they’ve offered us the use of their townhouse in Vancouver for our stay there. They’re living in the town of Sechelt where Dick is temporarily working as a private pilot. They’re both interesting people. He’s spent a great deal of time in Australia, New Guinea, Africa, the US, Canada and other parts of the world. His parents live in Quebec and he spends part of his time there since he only works about 7 or 8 months of the year. They have a cute four- month baby girl named Debbie.
We spent yesterday boating and fishing, I still haven’t caught a fish and I’m sorry now that I didn’t bring a rod and reel for myself, and then we went to Ruby Lake with Dick and Marie for a swim. We invited them for drinks and dinner and Misti made a delicious ham and potatoes dish. We’ve been getting by mostly on canned goods for the past few days, since most stores are closed and we’ve been away from any towns. We plan to be in Vancouver tomorrow and we’ll stock up then.
I can’t believe this weather. It’s setting all sorts of heat records and each day is hotter than the one before. We’re enjoying the heat since we spend almost of our time in and around the water. Our refrigerator has been working fine and we have all the ice we need. We’ve just started our fourth week of vacation and have had only one day of rain. We especially like the warm nights, which are unusual for this part of the world.
The other thing we love is the exceptionally long days. It gets light at about 5:00 a.m. and doesn’t get dark until about 10:00 p.m., which makes for a very long day. The days have been full and enjoyable but have been passing almost too quickly. In some ways it seems like we’ve been gone several months, perhaps because we’ve done and seen so much.
August 8, 1978 – Langdale, British Columbia
We’re parked waiting for what will be the last of four ferries we’ll take to get to Vancouver. This one takes us to North Vancouver and from there we’ll cross the Lions Gate Bridge into the Vancouver city , where we plan to stay several days before heading home.
Last night we stayed at Porpoise Provincial Park outside the town of Sechelt, 20 miles north of the ferry terminal., a lovely place with a protected cove and a sandy beach At Porpoise Provincial Park we ran into the couple from San Diego that we had first met in Port Angeles, waiting for the ferry to Victoria. They had been to Sechelt for ten days, since her appendix and gall bladder had to be removed, and she had it done in the hospital in Sechelt.
We spent yesterday afternoon at Earl’s Cove and the four of us took the inflatable over to Nelson’s Island looking for oysters. Someone had told us there were lots to be found, and It was the nicest boat outing we’ve had so far. We found a cove across the inlet where there were thousands of oysters just waiting to be taken. We barbecued the oysters for lunch and they were delicious! Only problem was the heat, there wasn’t much shade and we almost got heat exhaustion from cooking the oysters. We must have eaten about 50 or 60 between the four of us and gave the remaining ones to the people from San Diego. It’s a good feeling to eat off the land, although I think I’ll wait a few days before I eat any more oysters.
August 10 1978 – Vancouver, British Columbia
We’re now on our third day in Vancouver city and plan to leave either today or tomorrow. It rained this morning, after three very hot days in the mid-nineties. The last two days in Vancouver were extremely hot, it hasn’t cooled off much at night and we’ve been avoiding cooking in Gus because of the heat. The short rain last night cooled things off and it appears to be clearing now.
We arrived in Vancouver mid-afternoon on Tuesday and headed first to Chinatown where we had dinner. We had wonton soup in a very touristy place and decided not to eat much since it was expensive. We did some shopping in Chinese food stores and were amazed at the variety and low prices. It seemed as if there were more different products than in San Francisco’s Chinatown, perhaps because Canada does more trading with mainland China and Hong Kong.
We stayed the first night in a parking lot next to the main railway station, across from Harbour Centre, with a view of the lights in North Vancouver. I didn’t sleep well because of the heat; it was the hottest day of the trip, and noise from the trains shuttling back and forth all night. The lot cost one dollar to park the night, but we didn’t have to play since we left before it opened at 8:00 a.m.
After putting the kids to bed, Misti and I walked through Gastown, the North Beach or Greenwich Village equivalent of Vancouver, with stores and restaurants all renovated from the old waterfront buildings. When Misti and I were last in Vancouver, ten years ago, the city was just beginning to renovate Gastown and now it has become a major part of the city. We had a beer in the Old Spaghetti Factory and made plans to bring the kids there for dinner.
The next morning, we moved Gus to Stanley Park early, while the kinds were still asleep, to spend time in the park and try to get away from the heat. We toured the small zoo and then had breakfast in Gus. Then we split up, with the kids going back to the park to see the aquarium, which we felt at $3 each was too costly for us, and ride the miniature train. Misti and I went for a walk on Robson Street, which we remembered for its quaint international shops selling all kinds of delicacies. We mostly window shopped and bought some goodies, sausage rolls, licorice candies, bread, coffee and hot dogs. We found a fish market that had small salmon at $1.99/lb., about the best price we’ve seen so far, and plan to buy a whole one for dinner tonight.
The people that we met at Earl’s Cove, Dick and Marie, had invited us to stay at their place, but we weren’t able to reach them by phone until later that evening. We spent the afternoon going to Wreck Beach, near the University of British Columbia, that Dick had told us about. It was a nice experience, larger than any of the nude beaches in California. The water wasn’t very nice, dirty looking with lots of crud, but it was hot and we waded in it to cool off.
We finally got hold of Marie last night and went out to see her, hoping at least to be able to take a shower. We realized that their townhouse was too small for all of us, but we did all shower, have a couple of drinks and conversation with Marie, much of it about Africa, her favorite subject. Since we hadn’t eaten dinner, and it was getting close to 10 pm, we said our goodbyes to Marie and headed toward Gastown, since we had promised the kids we’d take them to the Old Spaghetti Factory for dinner. We had spaghetti with tomato sauce, salad, bread and spumoni ice cream all for $2.65 for adults and $1.95 for kids. The bill came to about $13 for a good dinner.
We went back to Stanley Park to spend the night and woke up Thursday morning to rain, only our second day of rain ,and we welcomed it as a relief from the many hot days. Misti is trying to reach the people who live in Vancouver that we had met years ago in Guatemala, Rob and Marge Eldridge. They had sent us a Christmas card inviting us to call them if we ever got to Vancouver.
August 11, 1978 – near Seattle, Washington
We’re stopped for dinner in a rest area about 15 miles south of Seattle and will spend the night and go into Seattle tomorrow. It’s been raining for the past two days and is much cooler, with temperatures in the low 60’s, down from the 90’s a few days ago. We already miss the sunshine and are looking forward to getting back to California and hopefully nicer weather.
We spent yesterday afternoon at the University of British Columbia Anthropological Museum, an interesting place, but a little disappointing after seeing the anthropological museum in Mexico City and the Provincial Museum in Victoria. It was only recently opened, and they’re still putting the finishing touches on it. There was an interesting exhibit showing the chronology of a small village on the western coast of Vancouver Island, from the first traces of Indian life about 4000 years ago, to present time. There is a remarkable similarity between the North American Indian tribes and those in South and Central America, which I suppose isn’t surprising since years ago the tribes migrated from north to south.
We were expected for dinner at the Eldridge’s at 5:30 and arrived on time. We had only seen them for a short time in Guatemala, just before I went into the hospital there, and we barely remembered what they looked like. They greeted us as if we were long lost friends, which was nice. We spent the first half hour recounting what happened to us after we met them in Guatemala, and then had a tour of Rob’s orchid collection. He’s an avid orchid collector and we remembered when we saw them in Guatemala they were about to climb a mountain to find an orchid he had heard about.
They have two kids, Andrea a girl who is 14, and Graham a boy who is 11, and David and Michael spent the entire evening playing with Graham. We had a nice dinner, pot roast and vegetables from their garden, and stayed up until 1:30 talking, mostly about traveling. They are intrepid travelers and have been going to Mexico and Latin America for the past 15 years. They usually take two or more months every other year; several years they took six months and went to Venezuela and Columbia. Rob works for the British Columbia Department of Fisheries, and we spent an hour or so talking about salmon fishing, their spawning habits, types and names, and so on. For his work, Rob has to travel throughout the province, and he pointed out roads and areas of interest.
We spent the night in Gus parked in front of their house and woke up to heavy rain. We hadn’t decided whether or not we would stay in Vancouver for another day or two or leave. The weather made up our minds for us. It was time to leave.
We spent the morning having coffee and toast with Marge, and then got directions for getting to the border. We had heard from someone we met in Pacific Beach that it was possible to get tickets in Seattle to see the King Tut exhibit, which was showing in Seattle through November, and then it goes to San Francisco. We also heard that tickets for the SF showing had already all been sold out in advance. Misti called a number in Vancouver and confirmed that it was possible to get tickets for the Seattle exhibit by getting a time early in the morning. Tickets went on sale at 8:00 , for that same day, and were only $1.00 with kids 12 and under free.
We left Rob and Marge’s house about 2 p.m. and headed for the border in heavy rain. The front skylight in Gus was leaking, and things were getting a bit damp. We decided to drive to Seattle, spend the night there, and get up early to see the King Tut exhibit. We spent the night in a rest stop 20 miles from Seattle and had salmon dinner in Gus, the fish we had bought on Robson Street in Vancouver.
August 12, 1978 – Seattle, Washington
Today has been King Tutankhamun day. We awakened at 7:00 and drove to Seattle in light Saturday morning traffic. We had no trouble finding Seattle Center, since it’s hard to miss the Space Needle. The kids were still asleep while Misti and I got in line to buy tickets, which only took 20 minutes. They sell tickets each day starting at 8:00 a.m. and the tickets are numbered consecutively for each day. They’ve computed how many people they can accommodate at one time, and announce, by PA system and on television monitors, which numbers are being admitted.
While waiting in line we met and talked with an older man who had seen the exhibit twice and who knew his way around. He gave us some good pointers, both on the exhibit as well as sights in Seattle. We had about three hours before we could get into the exhibit and decided that we’d explore Seattle Center and start with the Space Needle, which neither Misti nor I had ever seen.
Even though we’ve been trying to economize, we thought it would be a special treat to have breakfast at the Space Needle. The ride up in outside glass elevators was a thrill and the restaurant, which slowly revolves as you eat, was fun. The food wasn’t spectacular, but the view made up for it. After the Space Needle we went to see several BBC movies about King Tut, which were informative and a good introduction to the exhibit.
Overall, we were impressed by Seattle Center. It was originally built in 1962 for the Seattle World’s Fair, and has been kept as a permanent fair and exhibition grounds with a small amusement park, restaurants and museums. The main attraction is the Space Needle, which is a mecca for tourists. The King Tut exhibit has apparently breathed new life into the Seattle Center, with more than 300,000 people seeing it the first month.
The exhibit lived up to our expectations. The realization of the antiquity, and the magnificence of the artifacts, is most impressive. Tut was a minor pharaoh, little had been recorded about him and, since he died at the age of 19, he couldn’t have accomplished very much. But his was the only tomb found in a relatively untouched state; all the other tombs had been almost totally looted over a span of several thousand years. When the tomb of Ramses the VI was constructed, about a hundred years after the death of Tut, the debris from the new construction buried Tuts tomb, and it lay hidden for over 3000 years. It was the persistence of the Englishman Howard Carter, who is 1922, finally ended his search by uncovering the tomb.
August 14, 1978 – Klamath Falls, Oregon
We’ve covered a lot of ground in the past two days and the realization that the trip is almost over is upon us. We’ve had a wonderful time. done and seen so much, and we don’t want the trip to end. The kids, on the other hand, have become restless and are ready to go home. They say they miss their friends and appear to be tired of sightseeing and driving. We’ll be home either tomorrow night or the following morning, a week and a half beyond the three weeks we originally planned to take.
Right now we’re stopped at a small county park in Oregon, Hagelstein Park, to have an early dinner before driving on for another few hours. We’ll probably cross the California border tonight, which will leave 300 miles for tomorrow.
After seeing the King Tut exhibit on Saturday, we took the monorail to downtown Seattle to go to Pike’s Market, which we heard about from the guy waiting in line to buy the Tut tickets. The market was great and it’s the first we’ve seen in this country that reminds us of the markets in Mexico.
The market is 71 years old and has a feeling of age and durability that can’t be created for any amount of money. It was to be torn down some years ago and the people voted, through a referendum, to save it. We bought some fruits and vegetables, hamburger, bacon, hot dogs and freshly baked bread and found a magic shop where the kids bought smoke bombs, which they love. After Pike’s Market we took the monorail back to Gus and it started to rain again. We decided that, despite the rain, we’d head toward Rainier just to see it, since we were so close.
We drove for two hours and stopped for the night at a small lake about 20 miles from the park entrance. It was just getting dark as we had dinner, and we went to bed early. The next morning we were on our way into Rainier National Park for a one-day visit. We stopped at the Longmire Visitor Center for breakfast in Gus and took the two-hour naturalist tour. A young woman ranger from San Francisco gave the informative talk. She explained how to identify the different trees, hemlocks are bent at the top and Douglas Firs are straight, and named all sorts of plants. She explained the concept of forest succession, whereby the land goes through different cycles: meadows, one type of tree and then another, and back to meadow.
After the nature walk we drove through the park, stopping at each overlook and marveling at the scenery. Rainier is magnificent and we’d love to return some day to spend more time, and not rush through it, as we did this time. Since it was raining on and off, the mountain was shrouded in fog, and we never did get a glimpse of it. We were told that is not unusual and many people visit the park without ever actually seeing the mountain.
We left the park at about 3:00 headed toward Yakima. We decided we’d go down Route 97, which goes through the central part of Washington and Oregon. Even though we said we’d go home quickly, the idea of driving Route 5, the major interstate highway, wasn’t appealing; it’s a different driving experience and you are disassociated with the land. You become part of the concrete ribbon and enter the world of road signs, gas stations, restaurants and rest stops.
The ranger at Mount Rainier Park had described the typography through central Washington and Oregon as being desert-like and possibly quite warm. The ride down from the mountain, from an elevation of about 6000 feet to the valley floor, was very scenic. We followed a raging river with torrents of white water, which eventually became a gentle river and then a stream many miles from the mountain. From Yakima we headed south on Route 97 toward the Oregon border, about 80 miles. The countryside was beautiful, high desert and very dry, looking more like part of the southwest of Mexico. After just passing through Rainier Park, which was lush and wet, this was a nice contrast.
We stopped at a state park called Mary Hill, on the Washington side of the Columbia River, just before crossing the border. We considered staying there, but the fee was $4.00, and we found out that there were showers in the picnic area that we could use for free, so why pay to stay in the park. Misti and I took a shower together and she freaked out when a man and his two small sons came in to take a shower. She slipped out without being seen but was nervous about it.
Misti cooked a dinner of salmon cakes and some corn we had bought in Northern Washington, and David and Mike made a delicious salad. After dinner we crossed the border into Oregon and stopped for gas in Biggs, the first town over the river. By this time it was quite dark, we were looking for a place to spend the night and about ten miles later we turned off on a side road and parked off the shoulder of the road. It was very desolate, no lights or buildings or anything to be seen or heard, only the moon and stars which lit the sky. It reminded me of the scene from Close Encounters, where the pick-up truck got stopped on the railroad track, in the middle of nowhere, and a little spooky, that’s how this place was. We spent the night undisturbed and got up at 5:00 a.m. to watch the sunrise. We were on our way by 6, headed south toward California, with a detour first at Crater Lake, about 200 miles to the south.
Our first visit to Crater Lake, 13 years ago when Misti and I were first married, was a short one. It was winter then, and everything except the road was covered with a blanket of deep snow. This time, since it was summer, there was little snow to be seen except at the higher elevations.
Just before reaching Crater Lake, we stopped at a National Forest exhibit of lava beds and formations, a clever exhibit. You walk through a darkened area and view a series of six displays. Each is activated by pushing a button and uses slides, hidden lights and microphones to demonstrate the birth and history of the Cascade Range. One exhibit used a vibrator in the floor to simulate earthquake activity, very effective.
August 16, 1978 – San Rafael, California
Well, we’re home after a hard drive yesterday afternoon from Redding to San Rafael. Both Misti and I were pleased that we had gone a month and 3000 miles in Gus without any mechanical difficulties, no breakdowns, flat tires or any mechanical problems, except for what happened yesterday when we were leaving Oregon.
This is what happened. We stopped for gas in Southern Oregon and since it was so expensive, 72 cents a gallon, we decided we’d only buy enough to get us to Redding where we thought it would be cheaper. About 30 miles north of Redding we ran out of gas on the left tank, and I switched to the right tank, a normal procedure, which I’ve done many times on the trip. The gauge on the right tank showed almost empty, but I was certain there was a small amount left. Well, the engine would not catch and just sputtered until we stopped. We were on Interstate 5 and managed to pull onto the shoulder but still close to the road, with trucks whizzing by at high speed. I kept trying to start the engine but wasn’t able to get it going. I decided we were out of gas, we really weren’t, and cursed my stupidity for letting it happen. It was the first time that we had run out of gas in Gus.
I put in the 2 gallons we had in a reserve gas can, but it wasn’t enough, so we hitchhiked to the nearest gas station and got five more gallons. We put the gas in and Gus still wouldn’t start. I thought that perhaps there wasn’t enough in the tank and since we were parked at a tilt, maybe it wasn’t being pumped up. We went to another gas station to call AAA and luckily we had renewed the card before we left on the trip.
The AAA guy put in 5 gallons of gas and tried to get Gus started but couldn’t. He took the fuel line off to see if it was clogged and it was ok. He said we’d have to be towed in, about four miles, and AAA would pay for it.
I was certain that AAA had a weight limitation for towing, and our 12,000 pounds far exceeded it, but I wasn’t about to tell the guy this. His tow truck was small, only a one ton truck ,and I had my doubts about his being able to tow Gus. But if he was game to try I figured it was our only way out of our predicament. I volunteered to stay in Gus, in case it broke loose at least I’d be able to steer and brake .
Misti and the kids rode in the cab of the tow truck while he towed us to the gas station where a mechanic looked at Gus. Just like our Gus trip in Mexico, a dirt lot in back of the gas station. The mechanic climbed into the engine compartment and began testing different things. He finally took apart the top section of the carburetor, which was new, and found a pin that had slipped down. He got Gus to start and run, said there was a vacuum leak that needed to be fixed but he thought we could make it home without any problem. When I asked him how much we owed he said, Let’s just call it even, and he wouldn’t take any payment.
Gus was still running poorly at low speed, was having trouble getting up hills and I was hesitant to drive the 200 miles home. We decided to go into the Chevy dealer in Redding and get their opinion. First we had lunch at MacDonald’s, Misti’s idea to break up the tension. At the Chevy dealer the manager of the service department came out to listen to Gus and confirmed that it was a vacuum leak and that we should easily be able to make it home. With this assurance, we proceeded home and didn’t stop once. We arrived home about 8:00 pm and it was nice to be back.
The trip was a good one and, in many ways we were sad to see it end, but we must return to the world of reality and get on with our lives. Our friend and housemate, Billy Owens, got back later that night and we chatted briefly with him. He said it was important. The next morning he told us that a week ago my cousin Helen was killed in an auto accident. A real tragedy, she was only 33 years old and a lovely, soft spoken person. She leaves behind her 3 year old daughter Nicole, her husband Romano and her mother and father.
This brings my log to an end. Our trip is over and it was an especially good one. It came during a period of change in our lives, my leaving my job and about to venture into a new business. I had hoped the trip would give me perspective and I think it has. Misti says I’m more relaxed and easy going and I hope this continues. I realize this is a very special time in our lives and I’m trying my best to live in the present and enjoy what we have and what we experience. We realize our kids are growing up quickly and the time will soon come when they no longer want to travel with us, and we’ll all look back to the times and experiences we shared when they were young and “ours”. I’ve come to realize that the great life experience, at least from what I’ve seen so far in my 38 years, is the raising of children.
Art Faibisch
Written in the summer of 1978 and edited in December, 2017