White Rock is a town that sits at the bottom of many hills. The only way out of there is uphill and the only variables are how steep and how high. We chose the route that climbed a fair bit, but at a steady gradual slope. When you ride bikes you learn that it is slope that really counts. You can climb the Rockies if you have a mild gradient, but you can be off and pushing if a one block climb is too steep!
We were also looking for a quick breakfast on the way out of town. Mike had promised a McDonald’s (egg McMuffins are good road food), but everyone was starting to wonder when we were near the edge of town and still had not found it. Finally it appeared, well past the rest of the business areas.
Our bikes pretty much took up the whole bike rack our front, so when another biker rode up, he took one look at the rack and just leaned his bike against the window. It happened that we were sitting on the other side of that window, so when he saw us, he raised his bike in greeting. Soon he appeared at our table side to talk bikes. And talk he did! He was an older gentleman (older meaning older than Mike and Tami) with a French accent, though we never got his name. He was very entertaining and launched right into a series of stories, first about his collection of bikes (he has one bike that is good for uphills and another that is good for downhills, but the problem is neither is great for both). Then he told us the times his wife got frustrated with his keeping his bike in the front entry and he came home to find it in a heap at the bottom of the basement stairs. He also told us about one friend who used to be a professional bike racer decades ago, and still does some amateur racing. He was visiting this friend one day and the friend took him down to see his bikes. He had a number of VERY high end bikes, but he had some complaint about each one. When asked which one he rides given the various complaints, he said, oh, I ride my wife’s bike.
After a while we realized the stories could go on all day, so we reluctantly excused ourselves as we had to get back on the road. Our friend did follow us outside to look over our bikes and offer a few last comments. McDonalds has never before been nearly so entertaining!
We then headed across the flatlands south of Vancouver, following a route carefully calculated to stay flat as long as possible. We had to ride on the side of a busy highway for a few miles, but that ended mercifully quickly. That led us to some nearly deserted farm roads and then several miles of well packed dirt trail. Mike had actually discovered that trail from seeing it out the window of the train on several previous trips. The trail was definitely one of the highlights of the day. We only wished it had been longer.
After we finished the trail, we came to the first bridge of the day. It had a nice bikeway separated from the cars, but it was HIGH over the Fraser River. It was quite the grind up to the top, where we stopped for pictures because it was a lovely view, and then zoomed down the other side. Almost immediately, however, we were on to another bridge, as the first one had brought us to an island in the middle of the river, so we had to get off the island as well.
By this time we were getting pooped, so when Mike spotted a couple picnic tables in a field, we pulled right in. Turned out it was a dog park. Since there was no one else around, it was the perfect place for the boys to water a little grass.
Leaving there, we got on the second wonderful section of the day’s ride, River Road along the south bank of the north arm of the Fraser (previously we had been crossing the south arm). Again it was a very quiet road with some great views, until it wasn’t (near the end it turned industrial with trucks).
A third bridge – this time the bikeway was slung off the side of a skytrain bridge – finally brought us into Vancouver proper. So far it had taken three bridges just to cross the Fraser! We still had to get up and over the ridge that is South Vancouver. Funny, it always seemed relatively flat driving into Vancouver, but on a bike you discover otherwise. It did take us, however, through a neighborhood of beautiful old homes, which actually made it the third great section of the ride. Except for Tami, though, as she was getting tired and hungry, which in turn makes her grumpy. Mike therefore started looking for food. This was difficult as we were riding on a residential street, but finally we came to a business street and Mike spotted a pub. Funny, but Tami’s grumpies went away as soon as she saw the menu, even before the food had actually arrived. It is all about anticipation!
From there we just had one more bridge to cross and then ride along the shore for a few minutes down to English Bay right by the south entrance to Stanley Park. We got checked into our hotel and then went out for cocktails to celebrate the end of our ride.
That area of town, Denman Street, is full of small ethnic restaurants. We only had to go about a block to find a wonderful Malaysian place for dinner. After dinner we pretty much collapsed. What a day.