For four years now I’ve hosted a small group ride with the same friends on the Saturday of Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, which lands around my birthday. This year it happened to land on the day.
The weather this time of year is far from reliable, but we’ve been lucky in previous years. However this time we got rain – lots of rain – for the first couple hours.
First order of business was to stash the 5L keg of Paulaner lager that Rob graciously provided and lugged. He stashed it down by the river to keep cool, which was somewhat laughable since the air temp was only about 8C anyway.
It was so rainy that even our stubborn selves were recalculating the planned route to reduce the time we’d be out in the elements. We rode out to Cypress Bowl Rd via Rob’s infamous fence line, but bailed on the plans to ride all the way out to horseshoe bay and check out a variety of little connector trails in west van.
Well, we did carry on a bit further from Cypress, up and over a particularly brutal service road climb that dropped us into the Cypress Falls trail network.
After Cypress Falls it was a twisty road descent down to McKechnie park, a beautiful park in West Van that I hadn’t visited in a couple years.
Leaving McKechnie we anticipated the remaining twisty road descent down to the ocean, but noticed a trail off the road shortly after the park – which ended up being a straight-down gravel descent down to the rail tracks, the down a set of stairs and connected right up to the quiet seaside bike route without touching the main road – magic! It was only two blocks long, but it was a great find that I’ll definitely use as a link in the future.
We stopped for sandwiches (and a Märzen) en route to retrieving our mini keg – successfully!
Once we had the keg in hand, we started to scope for a good restful place to enjoy it. After our river-front spot wasn’t quite right, we decided to bring it over the bridge to enjoy in Stanley Park.
However Graham’s derailleur had other plans, exploding as we climbed up to the bridge deck. It even ripped a spoke out of the rim, so instead of trying to rig up a single speed setup we just opened the keg right there on the bridge deck and afterwards, Graham loaded the helpless bike onto the front of a bus.
Not a particularly interesting ride, but a couple nice photos came from it so I’ve decided to upload. This was an after-work trip to Dageraad brewing, taking a noodley string of quiet residential streets out and the parkway back.
I thought I’d beat the weather, but I rode right into it – which provided some pretty dramatic skyline, at least.
The days are rapidly getting shorter and the hours of reliable daylight after work are over. As such, my weekday rides had become fewer and shorter, but this day I decided to ride to the mid-valley lookout in the Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve (LSCR) even though I knew I couldn’t complete the ride in daylight.
I’ve written about the LSCR, otherwise known as Seymour valley, numerous times. It’s accessed via Fisherman’s trail pictured above, which starts a 10km ride from my door. The trail to mid-valley is about 6km, closely following the Seymour river.
I wanted to see the state of the autumn colours in the forest, and for the first 2 or so km, there wasn’t much to report except the odd vine maple visible off the trail. The yards I passed to get to the trail were full of non-native cultivars bred for their beauty and these were regularly in bright autumn colours, but our native forests were largely still in business-as-usual shades of green.
That is, until I rounded a corner to this scene! A cluster of big leaf maples made my trip feel worthwhile already.
The trail is mostly double track as shown below, though there are a few sections of singletrack with a bit more technicality.
I arrived at the mid-valley lookout about 30 or 40 minutes before sunset, but the sun had mostly passed over the mountains at this point. I watched the sunlight creep up the mountainside on the other side of the valley, and the clouds start to turn pink and orange.
I spent some more time watching the light slowly fade before I figured I should make some progress out before the light fails entirely. I wanted a little bit of night riding, but preferably not the whole way.
Racing the light.. well not really racing at all.
I was down to the last kilometre or so by the time it was properly dark. Once I was out of the trees, I was treated to purple-blue clouds left over from the sunset.
A dry and relatively warm day warranted pulling out my un-fendered single speed Wombat for a ‘bridge to bridge’ loop. This loop, ridden clockwise in this case, is about 32-35km and mostly pretty flat.
The Wombat is my ‘just for fun’ bike, set up with a ~2:1 gear ratio which is a sweet spot between being okay to ride off-pavement without spinning out too quickly on the road. I can comfortable cruise at 22-25 kph which is as much speed as I need.
I rode to Beva Brewing because I knew I’d catch a pal who was riding home from camp there. We had some food and a beer together but then parted ways again afterwards; him to shower and me to toodle in the woods in search of early season salmon. Naturally, I took an unnecessarily inefficient route.
While I didn’t see any salmon (it was clearly too early), the early-autumn forest was lovely to exist quietly within.
Below are three distinct scenes from the ride from my river spot to the ocean. Each very lovely in its own regard.
And finally, as I neared home I was treated to a lovely display of rippled clouds.
This post is of just a rather typical local loop rather than a trip or grand adventure. It was a ‘scenic’ route that I took to one of my favourite local breweries, Dageraad, to meet some friends. The brewery is about 15km from my home if I take a direct route, but this wasn’t very direct.
One of the purposes of this ride was to trace along some of my favourite semi-urban natural areas and see how the early autumn colour was coming along. Late September around here means the show has begun, though is still a few weeks from peak foliage.
Above is a small conservation area surrounded by commercial buildings in Burnaby just west of Deer Lake, which is featured in the left two images below.
From there I wiggled over to the Cariboo Heights conservation area which is one of the most underrated gems of Burnaby. It is a beautiful and quiet forested area that as I understand, runs the risk of being developed. I sure hope not. It’s one of my favourite places.
Now that I know there’s a website and a volunteer org for this unprotected forest, I might just have to get involved. As it is, I try to do my part by maintaining these trails, having brought my folding saw and cleared a few trees downed over the path.
The above images show a curated beauty, but worth noting there is also a fair share of pushing and the odd staircase. Definitely worthwhile though. The route crosses Cariboo Rd (yes, spelled correctly) onto an old rail bed (active from 1911 until 1953) that connects to New West.
Exiting the forest, it was not long before I was at Dageraad with a lovely slow-poured Belgian ale in hand.
From there I rode with the pack of pals back to town, with a stop on the pedestrian bridge below to share a smoked lager that a buddy had brought.
Most people think of the Three Stooges when they hear the name Stooge Cycles, I imagine. Well, there must be something to it, because I have now had three Stooges and feel like I’m where I need to be. My first was the Speedbomb – I was enamoured by the blue-green colour in particular, but the geometry was a close match to the Esker Japhy it was replacing despite being a one-size-fits-all model.
What I didn’t appreciate was that hardtail geometry and rigid MTB geometry should be different – the rigid should be shorter so you can get over the rear wheel more readily. So I made my way to a Scrambler, which came in two sizes, the smaller of which being where I needed to be in terms of top tube length. In between these two I had a Tracker for a period of time, which I’d got in a trade deal as a stop-gap solution until the Scrambler became available.
I received the frame on Aug 26, 2024. I built it up over the next few days and my very first ride on it was Sept 2, 2024 with my friends Taylor and Cat – on a rather epic ride from home to the summit of Grouse Mountain via Fromme. It was a 1000m climb and the ride was over 50km door to door. A pretty massive shake-down ride!
The parts spec was all pretty much carry-over from my previous Stooge, which was carry-over from my Esker Japhy. The only change I needed to make was down-sizing my rear tire from a 2.6 to a 2.4 due to the frame clearance. I ran a WTB Macro, a fast XC tire, which paired nicely with the more aggressive Teravail Kessel to balance grip and speed.
As soon as the frame had arrived, I measured it up for a custom HMPL frame bag in waxed canvas. It took a few weeks to be ready, during which I used my little Lilac frame bag seen above for a few rides. The moment it was ready I bee-lined it to HMPL HQ and fitted it to the frame. I took the bike on a social ride around town shortly after and it was a blast, even though it was a pavement ride.
About six months later, in Jan/Feb of 2025, I had the White Industries hubs re-laced to 27.5″ Dually rims because Andy of Stooge was pretty clear that his preference was 27.5+ for the Scrambler. And I trusted his vision. I started my 27.5+ journey with Surly Dirt Wizard 3″ tires which I bought second-hand for a bargain.
The DW’s were perfect in the snow, but once the snow thawed I realized how incredibly slow they were on anything except mud and snow. My pal Taylor hooked me up with a variety of 27.5+ tires including WTB Rangers and Bridgers. As of Oct 2025, I am running a Bridger up front and a Ranger out back, both of the 3″ variety, and have been since spring – it’s a good setup for this bike.
In Sept 2025, I finally took the Stooge on a camping trip. I had hoped to do a ~330km rugged bikepacking route around the southern half of Vancouver Island this year, but that plan never quite came together – a goal for 2026 now.
More than ten years ago, a Slack group was formed by an acquaintance for local craft beer geeks to discuss the growing local craft beer scene. The group grew to about 100 members relatively quickly, but stopped growing many years ago now, and the slack evolved into a group of friends. As this happened, channels for hobbies and other non-beer topics started to proliferate.
One of the more popular interests was cycling, and our “beer” slack now has multiple bike-related channels. One of them is specifically about bike camping. It was here that a Gabriola trip was hatched last year in mid September by LA. I didn’t go. The first night was solo for LA, and it poured rain heavily all day, all evening, and all night. Thankfully she was equipped with two tarps, but nonetheless it was undoubtedly a challenging time.
This year the weather was looking much better, with rain forecasted for one morning but otherwise sunny, warm but not hot; just perfect. Well – that was the forecast. More on that later.
Some folks rolled out on Friday, but me and two others rolled out as the Saturday crew. We all stayed until Monday. The weather was perfect. I was rolling around 8am, and we caught the late morning ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo. From there it was a few km along the water to catch the small boat to Gabriola, a quick ferry that runs regularly enough to feel like a water taxi.
This was also the first time I’ve gone camping on the Stooge after a year of ownership. Bike-packing was front of mind when I bought the bike, so this felt overdue – even though it was a trip that really did not require such a rugged setup.
The reason I took the Stooge though is that Gabriola has an impressive trail network for a small island, including a double black rated trail! I wasted no time making my way to this trail after dropping off my gear at camp. It was steep, but that was it – no big features, no gnarly rock rolls, nothing to earn such a rating. Obviously a gulf island double black is not the same as a whistler double black. Probably for the best, as I don’t take the same chances I used to.
After the quick loss of elevation riding said trail, dubbed ‘Jack’s Dropper’, we followed a local’s advice about a less known beach on the east side of the island, shown below. It was indeed a good spot.
We hastened back towards camp after a snack on the beach to join the rest of the group at Malaspina Galleries. Despite the name, there is no artwork on display; but the beauty of the natural world is on full display with worn away sandstone creating a natural 3/4 tunnel like a cresting wave. We hung out here for the last hour of warm sun with beer and snacks at our sides. I even stuck my phone in the water for some underwater photos. There were tons of starfish!
It was a beauty day, but the clouds were starting to coalesce and rain was expected by the morning, so we set up our tarps to protect our gear and provide a sheltered spot to hang out.
It was a pleasant evening and our communal camp area was pretty dialed. The campsite is adjacent to a narrow inlet (below, center) that makes for a lovely spot to relax too.
Evening activities included review of our bingo cards (shout out to Graham for making them), drinking beer, and conversation over the propane fire (as the fire ban was still in effect).
The rain started around 10pm as a light sprinkle, and became a light but steady rain throughout the night. The sound of rain on my tent was both relaxing and sleep-preventing. Credit to my modest MEC Spark 1 tent, it kept dry inside except for a small bit by the fly which was probably my fault.
The rain was pretty light when I got up around 8am, and tapered off over the next hour allowing us to explore our surroundings without getting wet while drinking coffee and having breakfast.
I took this opportunity to photograph the area as well, as noted above and below. I haven’t been to a gulf island that isn’t beautiful yet, but Gabriola has a unique charm. Especially the water-worn sandstone along the shoreline.
As we took in the views at the shoreline, a wall of grey could be seen moving towards us looking menacing. I knew there was significant precipitation in that air, and we made our way back to camp without wasting time. Within moments, the rain began and steadily increased in intensity. At this point it was perhaps 11:30am. The wind also picked up, and at its peak it was a proper rainstorm. This was also precisely when our friend Dave arrived on his fender-less two speed bike from the mainland, drenched despite only 700m of travel from the ferry to the campsite.
Once the skies let up, we wasted no time getting out on our bikes as it was already after 1pm and the grocery and liquor stores close relatively early on the island.
While it was my first time on Gabriola, most of my company had explored these trails before. As such, I went along for the ride, following suggestions and recommendations. There was no losing – all the trails were really beautiful. Generally not technical, save the odd root, but they were narrow and immersive.
And they were seemingly everywhere. Gabriola is unique among the southern Gulf Islands in this regard, having a network of trails that are rather unparalleled. A dog walker’s paradise, this island.
By late afternoon, the rain a few hours prior was a distant memory with blue skies and surprisingly dry terrain. We laid in the field above and remained entirely dry.
After some provisions at the store we headed back to camp for more time in front of the propane fire pit, accompanied with an assortment of special beers brought by Dave and Ashley. Managing to not get too carried away with the booze, we were generally all in bed by 11pm.
The next morning was a travel day towards home, but with the extremely regular sailings off the island we were able to enjoy coffee and nature at our own pace in the morning.
After a lovely hour or so of walking around at low tide and marvelling at the eroded rocks, I packed up camp unhurriedly. As previously noted this was my first time bikepacking on the Stooge, but it was also my first time using the Buckhorn panniers and this bag arrangement in general. I was surprised by the capacity, owing in no small part to the tent being mounted atop the rear rack. Despite packing the tarp, my bulky cooking and coffee kit, and a few beers – I still had enough room to stuff a few other items in if needed.
The ride back was pleasant and uneventful. I took the higher, hillier, but quieter route from the ferry to West Vancouver along with Graham, Dave, and LA – and linked back up with Rob and Karen at a West Van park where we enjoyed one last beer of the trip and some final relaxing before returning to normal life.
Oh, but one of Gabriola’s well-fed spiders managed to hitch a ride in my pannier. I moved him to the patio, and a day later he rode back into our apartment on a dog mat I had put outside. I haven’t seen him since; I hope he’s OK but I also hope he’s done with me.
Attendees: Rob, Karen, LA, Ashley, Graham, Dave, and myself.
Booked in haste as soon as reservations opened this past spring, I had a site at Shingle Bay campground alongside a handful of friends for August 22 – 24. Shingle Bay is a secluded campground along a particularly beautiful bit of coastline, accessible only by foot or bike, and with a minimum of services: no water, just a single pit toilet.
I had never been to Shingle Bay, though I’d been on Pender before. It reminded me a lot of Narvaez Bay on Saturna with its beauty and seclusion.
It was also the first ride on my newly installed Continental Terra Trail tires, which I’d bought a year ago but was patiently waiting for my Ultradynamico treads to die.
I rode from home to the ferry, about 54km distance, with a friend and her e-cargo bike and two small kids. The cargo bike doesn’t fit on or in either their car nor public transit options, so ride it was. It’s a big of a slog – across town, over a couple bridges, then across an expansive section of farmland to finally reach Tsawwassen ferry terminal.
Once on Pender, the campsite is only 6km from the ferry, but this distance includes a few punchy climbing sections. I raced to the beer store first, then made my way to camp. After setting up my tent I realized my rear tire had gone flat; a slow leak on the inaugural ride on these tires!
The image below hopefully captures the beauty of this campground. It’s a small clearing filled with apple trees, on a small bay where the remainder of nearby coastline is cliffside. It’s a bit of a marvel.
As with many gulf islands, deer were plentiful and friendly. Whatever we were up to, you could count on them to be on the peripheral. Some gulf islands also have a lot of raccoons, but I didn’t see any here.
We enjoyed a wonderful sunset and a starry night aided by the lack of moon.
The next day I did two of my favourite camp morning activities: slow coffee while watching the tide slowly move, and a low-tide wander. I also fixed the flat tire, which I hope to not make a tradition of.
We lucked out that the annual Pender fair was happening on our only full day on the island, so once the morning rituals were complete, we headed into “town” for the festivities. The event started with a low budget but high enthusiasm parade, followed by fairgrounds full of display fruit and local interests of all sorts. I had a volunteer-grilled hamburger and spent some time in the beer garden, where beer from the nearest brewery was pouring – which was from Sidney, just on the other side of the ferry to Vancouver Island.
They also had some animals – chickens, goats, sheep, horses – including a wee lad reminiscent of Lil’ Sebastian.
Once we had befriended enough farm animals, we headed out from the fair and a few kilometres away to Twin Island Cider, which I would posit is the best cider in BC. Pender Island has a rich history of apple trees all over the island, and many of them contribute to the traditionally made cider at Twin Island. It was stinkin’ hot, and cider was exactly what we needed.
We made our way back to camp in the late afternoon, where lazing along the beach and wandering the coastline was the remaining day’s plans.
The evening brought a break in the sweaty temps as well as another beautiful sunset. There is something very special about a gulf island sunset, and Shingle Bay rivals the best in this regard, in company with Descanso Bay on Galiano.
The third day was the trek back home, but we had plenty of time before the ferry to check out some beaches along the way and spend some time with beers in the courtyard of the only shopping ‘mall’ on the island.
We didn’t arrive back in Tsawwassen until after 6pm, so it was dark by the time I was in the final 10km push to home. On the other hand, this was great for avoiding the worst of the August heat.
I’m not sure if this was the first bikepacking trip I did, but it was certainly one of the earliest examples. I had bought a Salsa Vaya the year before, and had completed the Ride to Conquer Cancer from Vancouver to Seattle on it about two months prior. I had transitioned from primarily riding fixies and mountain bikes to taking a sudden and unexpected interest in touring bikes.
At this time my partner Aimée and I had a sheltie, Esme, who was about 11 years old at this time. Since Aimée was much less into riding hills and longer distances than I, I carried much of our gear as well as the dog trailer. My setup was therefore quite the truckload.
To make the trip more accessible, we drove to and parked at the long term lot by the ferry. In order to transport all the bikes, I swapped my Golf with my dad’s Tacoma for the weekend. My Golf was just a few months old at this point, my first new car. My dad hit a bear with it during the two days he had it. Thankfully, the damage was largely cosmetic. The bear ran off after the event, hopefully their injuries weren’t too severe.
The setups! My Vaya fully truck’d out, Aimee and Erin’s matching Linus bikes at right.
I don’t have any photos of the rest of the ride out, it seems, but that’s probably for the best. The ride is about 25km, and I had never done it before this trip. Knowing my partner Aimée had limited endurance, I studied the route’s elevation carefully. I knew it had some hills, but most of the route was below 100m elevation, so how bad could it be?
Turns out, quite bad. The rolling hills are pretty steep and never-ending. But what made matters much worse is that I missed an in-land turn, and we ended up descending down to sea level on a dead end road. Tears were shed and very few words were spoken as we climbed back out of that situation, as everyone was already exhausted.
Thankfully, Ruckle campground delivered vibes that quickly reset everyones moods. I’ve been many times since, but this was my first Ruckle experience.
This was also Esme’s first camping experience, and she loved it. Exploring the scents along the ocean’s edge was her favourite part.
It was hot, which also contributed to the toughness of the ride out, but the ocean provided wonderful respite.
Esme meets a starfish. She knew it was a living creature, but she could not figure out its deal.
We made fires and did all the camp stuff.
Note Esme on the bench, tired out after such an adventurous day.
On the ride back, we took full advantage of both farm stands and lakes that we passed along the way. Best way to beat the heat!
A long-ago ride that I’m writing up many years later, but since it was such a wonderful experience, I remember it well. It was the first camping trip on my Surly LHT, which replaced a Salsa Vaya. In retrospect, I should have kept the Salsa and went 650B for more tire clearance, but I hadn’t considered that at the time.
We camped at the private campground by Seal Beach Cottage, and the first night we learned that the name is appropriate, as seals kept us up half the night with their noisy shenanigans. The campground is lovely though, with a short hike into secluded camp sites in the trees.
We had a day to explore the island, checking out the lighthouse and generally enjoying the slow pace of the gulf islands.
We also hiked up to the high point of the island during an unexpected rainy morning. Mount Parke offers a rather stunning cliffside after a fairly technical trail ascent. The bikes did not come with.
Erin did an excellent job curating vegan camp food. I become so utilitarian when it comes to food, but appreciate better options.
We checked out the quaint museum as well as the surprisingly well-stocked bookstore.
Farmers markets are a gulf island specialty, and Mayne’s is especially good. Being from the city, leaving a bike unlocked was too foreign for me so I locked the back wheel – but most others simply leaned their bike somewhere and went in.
