SEPTEMBER 14 - Barnston Island, Ferry Barges, and What the Hell Was I Thinking ...

Should we or shouldn't we? Barnston Island looked like a long way on the map that's hanging on the kitchen wall, but not so far when checking the Google Transit one on computer. This is one of the bike trips I wanted to do this summer, so I figured today was as good as any.

Down 92 Avenue, where according to Mr Google, I was supposed to meet up with Kenmore Drive and then the Greenway. Nope. If I hadn't turned on Kenmore in the direction on the power towers, I would probably still be looking for the entrance. However, the morning ride was beautiful, mostly flat, downhill, or mildly elevated, until I got here. The valley below is where the entrance to Tynehead Park is, but today's trip would take me farther than that.

There are a few rivers in Surrey - some, like the Serpentine, seem to trickle - we will see another river farther down the page.

Ah. Recess, and an anti-oxidant snack of Goodness.

After Tynehead Park, I decided to stick to the bicycle lane (cycling) and the sidewalk (walking uphill) of 96 Avenue. If I had followed the greenway, there would be a point where I would have had to exit at 96 and U-turn back to 176, and you know me. I wouldn't want to add extra distance to my trip. Right? I would never do that.

so many  choices
none of them where I want to go though

Hmmm. So far no 176 Street, which is the one Mr Google suggested I take. Seems like 96 turns into Golden Ears Way, and that would take me to Maple Ridge if I pedalled enough. Highway 1 would take me either to Vancouver over the Port Mann Bridge, or to St John's, Newfoundland. But I wasn't that energetic this morning. All I wanted was Barnston Island. I was looking forward to seeing the Barnston Island Herbs Company. Travelling down the road, I came to this underpass ...

.. and this hole in the wall. To me (and Stephen King, I would think) this is the underpass equivalent of having your foot stuck over the side of the bed at night. Even though our box spring is flat on the floor (Howard hasn't gotten around to putting the bed frame under it yet) I still can't have even my big toe hang over the edge of the bed, because I know something will reach out from somewhere to grab it, and I'll be finished. Or at least done for. However, I braved up, and Breehy sped me past it before any other-worldly creatures seeped through.

It was shortly after this I realized I was gone way past 176, even though I saw no signs reading 176. This is where I realized that, even though I knew where I was, I had no idea where I was or how to get where I was going. The only road I had crossed was Highway 15, the brand new upgraded one that turns into Highway 1 and travels across the Port Mann Bridge. FYI - if you do open this link, the first picture you see won't be the new Port Mann Bridge - it is a picture of the old one, which is the very same as the Patulla. Boy, do these bridges ever confuse me - as you probably know by now. The new Port Mann is the one below. I didn't take this picture.

However, I decided I'd better turn around, as I didn't want to go over the Golden Ears Bridge either. On the way, I stopped and had a couple of balls of tomato soup. Seems the utterly delicious harvest of Steve's cherry tomatoes didn't survive the ride too well.

As I once more got to Highway 15, I saw a little convenience store down the way a wee bit, so pedalled there for some guidance - hopefully. This is when I got a call from Neil, who knows all the routes in the Lower Mainland.

'Would Highway 15 be 176 Street?'
YES! It would be!

So all I had to do was travel down Highway 15 (aka 176) to 104 and I'd be there! Almost! Ha. They were building a big overpass bridge a few metres down the highway, and guess what? They didn't have the sidewalk/bike lane open yet. What they did have was this:

One of these meant me. My only choice was to take the Hope exit and Hope I could hang a left and find 104 somewhere along the way. Double Ha. I ended up on another super highway, and guess what? I found a good thing - and a not-so-good thing. The good thing was this - I could imagine the spinster teacher on the steps ringing the bell - just like I did in the early 70's - the early 1970's that is.

And the bad thing? Well, you probably figured out what the bad thing was.

So back to Highway 15, pushing Breehy the wrong way up the exit ramp to the convenience store. I saw two bikers polishing up their motorbikes and asked if they knew how I could get to 104, but the only advice from them was to take the bridge. They thought my helmet was part of a motorbike outfit, until I pointed out pretty pink Breehy. So I just crossed at the intersection and saw the entrance to Tynehead Park. A bit disappointed, I figured I'd just do the perimeter route I hadn't done a few weeks ago, and head home islandless.

I so regret not passing through this door. Stupid me. I could have ended up with Roland in another time frame. But then again, I could have been gobbled up by the monster lobsters at the beach. Maybe the next time. (If you haven't read The Dark Tower series by Stephen King you'll have no idea what I'm talking about, so just ignore this little paragraph.)

Community bulletin board.

Another spot of colour. We'll soon be surrounded by fall colours - lots of pretty coming up.

As I was cycling the trail, I thought how we were sort of paralleling Highway 15, and sure enough - I saw in the not-so-far distance an overhead walkway. I remembered a different Google route that mentioned an overhead walkway - as in, go over one - so it was a YES! moment.

I stopped at a little picnic area and had a lunch - not a great lunch, but a lunch nevertheless. Peanut Butter Bread, Brownie, Banana and a Crystal Delight water that wasn't all that delightful.

We passed a loaded apple tree on the ramp to the overpass.

And from then on, it was easy peasy. Rode down the street so far, and came to 104 and 3 young fellows on the corner. I asked them how to get to the ferry, and they pointed down the street. One of them said, 'Yeah, just watch for Daly Road.'

So off I go. After a while, I do indeed come to Daly Road, and head down there for a few feet - before I considered - Google didn't say anything about Daly, and the kid didn't say go down Daly, he just said, watch for Daly. So I un-Dalyed and headed back to 104, where I finally found what I was looking for -

A REAL river - The Fraser River! and the Barnston Island Ferry!

Down we went on a rickety, crumbly, rotten wood ramp. Glad Breehy and I average only about 100 pounds each.

Looks like they have a safe way of transporting children. Safety first.

Biking Barnston Island was tough, whatever the link here may say. For one thing, there were no hills at all, so there was no just sitting and sailing downhill - it was all pedal, pedal, pedal. Another ferry rider with a reclining bicycle actually passed me three times on my one trip around the island. The first time was okay, as we had started going opposite directions - the second time I called out 'I stopped for lunch!' which was a bit true, if one considered half a Brownie and some water as lunch, and the third time, we chatted and I told him I took hundreds of pictures. He was in training for a Vancouver-Whistler ride later on this fall. Hmph.

I don't think I'll try that. Maybe if it were a Whistler-Vancouver ride I might consider it. Downhill and all that.

I saw horses.

I could live here.

The Katzie Indian Band has a reserve here. I think the sign needs a bit of Native Pride added, though.

Chickies.

A banana tree. Nope, only kidding. This is part of a huge old cedar tree.

An acorn tree. Actually, it's an Oak Tree. Which reminded of that old and famous autograph poem -

Don't worry if your job seems small
Or if your pleasures few
Remember that the mighty oak
Was once a nut like you.

This was actually written in one of my autograph books by a then-young gal named Patsy Hall on October 30, 1969. She signed herself as The Lullaby Singer, but I really don't think she was. Looking back, I realize that I must have been the female version of  Rodney Dangerfield - I obviously didn't get no respect, either.

The Golden Ears Bridge. I thought it was the Port Mann Bridge, but Howard once again set me straight.

Cranberry fields. They will flood them in the fall and harvest the berries. You've all seen the Ocean Spray commercials, right?

A yard full of goats - there were more than these three. I wonder what they do with them when they mow the grass?

The bottom of my feet. Oh no.... wait .... it's a tree trunk. It just looks like  my feet feel.

And I finally made it back to the ferry landing, in time to watch the Deckhand raise the vehicle ramp and sail away. So I sat under the above tree and waited a few minutes for him to return and bring me across the river again.

I had a long uphill, hot walk before I got going on Breehy again, but we finally did make it over the overhead walkway, and back to Tynehead Park. A bridge over a stream, you may think?

Hard to believe you would be right, yes?

Well, you would be right after all.

Even though I had some nice parts to the ride home, like sailing on a downhill grade for almost a mile through a smoothly paved forest path, with Breehy's tires whistling gaily, most of the journey was trudgingly made under a hot, hot sun with a lot of uphill.

I think this day was a prime example of the saying - It's not the destination, it's the journey. If you think it's taking too long to read this blog - you can read it a lot faster than I did it - it took me about 7 hours - to ride, walk, enjoy, and complain about 41.3 kilometres, or 25 miles.