Masochism for Dummies

Vancouver to St. Johns. Approximately 10 000 kilometers, depending on how you go, and this summer I will be attempting to traverse that distance with nothing more than what I can carry on the back of my bicycle. My name is Steve Vanden-Eykel, and this website will be the record of my trip, and the wall I wail to. I hope you find it interesting.

Why am I doing this?

Well, there are a lot of reasons, some of them fairly cliched. You could probably guess, for example, that I've just finished school and want to go out and do something wild and fun before going out and getting a job and joining the adult world. It's been a long grueling slog of work and school, and right now, all I really want is to get out from under for a while...decompress, you could say. Then there's the bragging rights; something like this automatically squares your 'cool factor.' It's the sort of thing I'd like to tell my own kids about, if I have them. The time is right; I've got money, time and youth, and really, what else do you need?

OK, you may say, so you want to go out and have an adventure. Why specifically cycling across Canada? If you knew me, you'd know it's not really in character. You see, I don't look like a cyclist. You know what I mean -- those lanky leggy guys with the knobby knees and the chiselled faces. If you were to associate me with a sport, it would probably be wrestling or something; I'm short, broad, and inclined to be chubby. In fact, when I told friends I was planning to cycle across Canada, most of them said something like 'You are?' Maybe that's part of the reason right there: I've always been a very cerebral person, so I'm attracted to the idea of doing something so completely physical for a change. Call it a matter of scientific curiosity -- Can I do it?

Here I have to acknowledge inspiration by a guy named Trevor Hennessey. In 1998, he, in much the same situation as I, made the trip, and he also maintained a website detailing his progress. I found out about it from an article in the Vancouver Sun (by columnist Pete MacMartin) and I followed it religiously. For whatever reason, the idea appealed to me tremendously, and I kept it in my head for the next two years that one day I would do the same, following in Trevor's footsteps (tiretracks). For the curious, I strongly recommend his own website. As you can see, I've sort of borrowed his basic look (sorry Trev).

Mind you, there's also an element of rivalry here. Several times, Trevor made a point of mentioning that he was a Christian. I, with the best will in the world, am not; I am an atheist. So, there's a sense of picking up the gauntlet here. "Anything a Christian can do...yadda yadda." Come to think of it, maybe I shouldn't be admitting that...I'll look pretty silly if I don't make it!

Other reasons for this trip? Well, one of Trevor's stated reasons for his trip was to meet the people of this country. For me though, I'm more interested in the scenery. People are one of the things I'm trying to get away from. Not that I don't like people of course, oh no, I'm just not very social by nature. Add that to the fact that I work in a restaurant, dealing with picky people all day (no you CAN'T have your pizza toppings chopped up fine!), and you'll understand why I'm looking forward to getting out all by myself, away from the madding crowd for a while. Otherwise a guy could end up climbing a flagpole. I await with anticipation the loneliness of the long-distance cyclist!

On the other hand, this is something about myself I wouldn't mind changing. According to Trevor, being on the road for a long time really brought him out of his shell and made him more talkative and outgoing. Sounds good to me. If a long period of isolation will make me more appreciative of human contact, I wouldn't mind a bit.

Then there's a health reason. Like I said, I'm inclined to be chubby. About five years ago, I decided I would make a concentrated effort to get into better shape. I watched my diet carefully, and got some intense exercise every day (pushups and situps mostly). And it worked; I lost fifty pounds and developed a lot of new muscle. In the years since then, I've more-or-less kept the muscle, but unfortunately most of the fat has crept back. I figure a few months of cycling will burn some of it off again. Here's a happy thought; I'm carrying about forty pounds worth of gear. If I lose that much weight, it'll be like riding an unloaded bike by the time I end this trip!

One final reason (and I'm not sure I should bring it up) is something that could be called The Fantasy. I bet I don't even have to explain this one to the guys! The Fantasy can take many forms, but usually revolves around meeting a beautiful fellow traveller, a moonlit lake with an isolated beach, and...well, you can guess how it ends. I know, I know, it's not likely to actually happen, but it's fun to think about. -g-

And who knows? There is an undeniable romance about the open road -- the mysterious stranger who rolls into town from parts unknown only to disappear forever with the sunrise. Just ask my uncle, who used to be a travelling salesman! I think there's even an evolutionary rationale for it; something to do with mixing the gene pools. If an opportunity arose, would I take advantage of it? Let's just say that that's for me to know and you to...well...not know, I guess.

My plans

Although I've been thinking about this trip for two years, and actively planning it for a year, I'm trying to avoid the trap of overplanning. I haven't actually planned out a specific "route," as such. I'm approaching it more as a series of "hot points" that I plan to "hit." I figure I'll let the actual route take care of itself.

For example, I just have to go see the Burgess Shale. In fact, I don't understand how Trevor could have missed it; he was interested enough in fossils to go through Drumheller (and so will I, by the way), so how could he pass through Field and not go see one of the greatest fossil sites on the planet? Anyway, that's one hotspot to hit. Another is Oak Island, in Nova Scotia. Between here and there, I've got quite a bit of family scattered around that I'd like to visit.

Beyond that, I plan to be guided by general rules of thumb. I'll probably try to stick to a hundred kilometers a day, although I see no particular reason to enforce that rule until I'm out of BC at least; I figure that will give me a chance to get some road legs. I'll also make a point of taking a different route than Trevor took, unless something he described was particularly interesting (Drumheller, for instance). I'm also operating on the assumption that the older roads will probably be the best, for cyclists anyway, because early roadbuilders would probably have taken the path of least resistance.

I'm going to be taking a rather roundabout route through BC, mostly for nostalgic reasons. Growing up, my dad would take us on vacations in the Interior, and as a result, I sort of think of that area as my "stomping grounds." I want to revisit a few of the places we went. Once over the Rockies, I'll start travelling a bit more directly.

My gear

When clothing is this expensive, you don't call it clothing, you call it gear.

It's strange, but no matter what you take on a trip like this, someone will think you're crazy to be taking so little, and someone else will think you're crazy to be taking so much! I think I'm leaning towards the minimal side; no cookstove, no airmattress, basically just a tent, a sleeping bag, some clothes, rain gear, and the standard luxuries (camera, journal, maps, toiletries, walkman). That's basically it. Oh, and a flashlight. And basic tools. And a couple of magic tricks, just in case I have to entertain along the way. Also batteries.

You get the idea of how things can pile up pretty quickly. There's always just one more thing that you would like to take, and believe me, I can think of a lot of things I don't have that I would like. Preparing my "outfit" (by which I mean everything I'm taking, including the bike) has been a lot of fun by itself. I had to start from scratch, with a bike.

I had a bike, which I was planning to make the trip with. And if the first thing you said when I told you about my trip was 'You are?' then the second thing you'd say would probably be 'On that?' It was not a thing of beauty. It was an old ten-speed with down-turned handlebars, the kind that is inevitably found at garage sales. It was rusty, and it rattled, and I loved it because I had built it up from spare parts and knew every single piece intimately. Unfortunately, she didn't make it. While pedalling along a main road on a rainy day, some guy came out of a side street and decided to ignore the stop sign. He ran over my front wheel, and dragged me for about ten feet before I could kick off the bike. Then he peeled off, although he did come back a few minutes later to blame me. I've still got the dent in my shin, if you want to see it sometime.

Anyway, new bike. I'm no afficianado, or expert in the latest technology; my main concerns were that I find a bike I could afford, and that I could love. And fortunately, I did. It's a Nakamura Profile, if that means anything to you (it doesn't to me. I couldn't even find any information on the Internet). It's big, and silver, and actually pretty heavy. I wanted to come up with a cool name for it, and in the end, I decided to christen her the Skeptic Tank. -g-

Then, most important next step was rain jacket. Absolute necessity, right? Right. Trevor said that Gore-Tex was worth its weight in gold; what he didn't say was that he was speaking literally. That stuff is expensive! I looked all over, and I have to admit that the jacket I got was basically the jacket I was standing in front of when I finally got tired of looking. Not Gore-Tex, but waterproof this, breathable that, and fleece-lined the other. A bit short of pockets, but I like it anyway. The only real problem is that the color isn't very visible. My sister called it "pavement grey."

Then accessories. Rear rack, water bottle, pump, blinky light. Got a really good deal on rear panniers at AJ Brooks ($70 for a pair of Tatanka bags, about 40L each). Bought a handlebar bag, and it was the only thing I think I really paid way too much for ($100). Sleeping bag and tent were Christmas presents (thanks, Dad and Lisa). Searched everywhere for rain pants I could live with, finally went with the Marmot brand. Finally, a new helmet (bright orange), a little mirror that attaches to the side, tools, a framebag to put them in, lube, spare brakeshoes, a bandanna, address book...and here we go again. -g-

Conclusion

Well, as you can see, I may not talk much, but I can write forever. I'll update the pages with my tour reports whenever I get a chance, and hopefully it won't be too long between updates. I'd love to hear from you if you find my trip interesting, or want to offer encouragement. Enjoy!