After reprising breakfast with Shirley at the Days Inn, I checked out of the Robin Hood Motel and biked downtown to the ferry terminal to catch the Victoria Clipper to Seattle. I purposely arrived an hour prior to departure to make sure there were no glitches with the bike. The Victoria Clipper is a high speed passenger only ferry. No cars allowed; however, you can transport a bicycle. What I did not know - and what was not apparent from the website and confirmation instructions - was that the process for transporting bicycles was different from the 3 ferries I had been on previously. The process previously was that you went through customs, then walked your bike on and parked it with the bags intact and then went upstairs and took your seat. Upon arrival, you walked your bike off and, if necessary, went through customs again. Problems arose with the Victoria Clipper because the staff at the terminal apparently had differing ideas regarding the process, or, at best, did not communicate the process in a coherent manner. First, I was told to get in line for checking in and customs. Then, I was pulled out of line and told to take my bike up a ramp where it would be put on board. As I was walking up the ramp, I was met by a young woman who told me to take everything off the bike and go back down the ramp and leave the bike leaning against the rail - someone would put it on the ferry boat. I was to take all my bags with me to go through customs. Did that, and resumed my place at the now further back place in line - now hauling my front and rear panniers in addition to my handlebar bag. A good 25-30 pounds at least. I kept thinking it was sure a good thing that Pam had taken my tent, sleeping bag and pad to mail back from Canada rather than having to carry those as well. Then, just as the checkin/customs process began and the line started to move, I was pulled out of line again and told I needed to check my bags and tag the bike at another stand - this after I had been standing there for 30 minutes after being told that I was supposed to go through customs first with the bags. After tagging the bags, they handed me a waiver to sign for the bike - sort of as an afterthought. Ignored my first four polite requests for a pen. I signed and tried to hand the paper to the staffer, who ignored me until I got at the back of that line, even though they had brought me over to the podium in the first place and tagged my stuff. I handed her the paper and was directed to what was now the very back of the checkin/customs line, and hoped there was no other forgotten procedure that popped up. To add insult to injury, the staff was not very friendly and treated me as if I should have known all this - which I had tried to educate myself on by checking the website. I ended up as one of the very last to board, and gratefully found a seat on the rather crowded ferry.
Once settled, I took several deep breaths and determined that I was not going to be annoyed. Rather, I took stock of the two couples that comprised my traveling companions in the cubicle. When I arrived, they were fully engaged in sharing the details of their vacations. Turns out both were celebrating their anniversaries, one of 60 years (from Miami) and the other of 25 years (from a small town in eastern Washington near Spokane I think). They also shared a common profession and passion as long time teachers and administrators. I, of course, shared my current bicycle adventure. All in all, a 2 hour 45 minute ride to Seattle shared with very pleasant and interesting people. My annoyance with the bike debacle quickly dissipated. I also learned that the gentleman from eastern Washington was contemplating a possible new job in Beaverton, OR that would allow for more time with his family. A move his wife, also an educator, enthusiastically supported. We talked a lot about balance between jobs and family. Living life as an adventure with no regrets when all is said and done. As I got ready to leave, this couple graciously agreed to let me take their picture for the blog. I am saying a special prayer for this couple, their family, and possible new beginnings.
After debarking and retrieving my bike and bags, I waived goodbye to the older couple at the curb, who cheerfully waived back, and biked over to the light rail station to take the train 14 miles out to the airport area where my motel was located. The attendant directed me down 3 flights of stairs to the boarding platform. When I asked about an elevator because of the loaded bike, he had no clue. I began wandering around looking for an elevator and stopped another traveler who looked like he might know his way around. His solution was to pick up my bike on his shoulder and carry it down the stairs - ignoring his wife and my protests and plea that he and I carry it together. I mean, we are talking a good 50-60 pounds or so. I pray that this Good Samaritan is not suffering any ill physical effects today.
The 35 minute light rail trip went smoothly. I decided to ride directly to the Trek Bicycle Store located approximately 2 miles away down a street with a 6% grade. A mechanic, named Charlie, was super nice and is in charge of getting the bike boxed for the trip home on Monday. He also helped me figure out which busses to take to get to my motel, approximately 5 miles away. I won't go into the details, but lugging all those panniers on my bum foot at the end of a long day of travel was a challenge to say the least. My final stop was .2 miles from the motel, and I gratefully trudged in about 6 pm. Then gimped my way further downhill to a restaurant for dinner. Gimped my way back uphill and got "home" around 7:15 pm. Very tired and done for the day.
Since I already took care of the bike, tomorrow is a "free" day. I may try to take the light rail back to Seattle to look around a bit and maybe go to the famous space needle. Or maybe just hang out and read, rest and watch the Olympics. I will play it by ear.
