the end of the journey (for now)

I’m sitting here across the table from the Stevie Nicks poster that hangs above our kitchen table. I’m pondering how to write about Tofino in a way that describes how it makes me feel; carefree, relaxed, happy, content; much like the way Fleetwood Mac’s song Dreams always makes me feel.

I’m picking up from where I left off. After our time in Victoria, the next and final destination of the trip was Tofino. Rather than taking the direct highway across the island, we chose to take the more scenic route along the Juan De Fuca Strait. This highway encompasses winding roads through the rainforest with the ocean to the left of you as you drive. It’s magnificent and awe-inspiring, in such a different way in comparison to the Rocky Mountains.

Our first night was spent camping at Jordan River down by the ocean, feeling the comfort of many other van lifers nearby, also camped out in the parking lot enjoying a rainy Friday evening. Before bed that evening, we walked along the rocky beach down by the ocean, noticing out of the darkness of the night the mountains of Washington state across the way. The next morning, we woke to the sound of waves crashing, people talking, and cars driving back and forth over the gravel parking lot. I walked down to where we had walked along a rocky beach the night before to water, all the way up the shore, kissing the land. There were surfers everywhere, people having fires, and hanging out in the back of their vans. It was another first for me, witnessing people in wetsuits riding waves. I noticed the way some people in particular watched the waves before they went out, like they were studying a textbook, memorizing the material, while some were simply there to socialize. All of them working with the waves to receive the thrill of standing up on their board for more than 10 seconds at a time and riding back to shore.

After a quick stop for breakfast at the Cold Shoulder Café, we continued along our journey. We made many stops that day, pausing to hike down the many trails along the Juan De Fuca Strait. There’s no service along this highway, only the company of the trees and people passing by. If you’re lucky, like we were, you might stop in some small town by the ocean and pick up an open Wi-Fi source with enough time to message your parents to let them know that you’re alive, but simply without service. There’s peace in the reality of having no cell reception for a couple days at a time. I was able to let the world pass me by without ever really stopping to check my phone. An act that is quite unheard of within today’s society.

As the end of that Saturday began to draw near, we pulled off of the highway into a small recreation site for the evening. The rain was coming down in sheets and the sky was already turning dark by 4pm. I sat in the car, wet and cold, eating some food. All of a sudden, I remember seeing a bright yellow and blue rain jacket coming back down the trail to greet me, looking excited. He tells me there’s something special down by the river. So, I jumped out of the car and followed him down the trail, that wasn’t really a trail but a small creek at that point, to be greeted by the presence of one of the largest trees I have ever seen, hiding amidst a canopy of moss and smaller trees. I was in such shock, not knowing how something this large could even be possible. All of its branches were hanging with a thick moss, the trunk so large that I felt like a mouse in its presence. For privacy’s sake, I won’t share the name of the tree or the name of the recreation site. From what I could tell, the tree seemed like it wanted to remain hidden, and so, I will respect its wishes. There it continues to stand, protected, in the company of the rest of the surrounding forest and rushing water flowing down the river. Maybe if you’re lucky, like we were, you’ll stumble across it in your travels one day and get to bear witness to its presence.

After one more evening camped just outside of Cathedral Grove, we made the drive to Port Alberni, stopped for a quick hike, and got back on the road in time to make the break in construction along the highway to Tofino. Making our way out to Tofino along Highway 4 was like being on a rollercoaster. It’s up, then down, then around a sharp corner and through a mountain pass. There is no guarantee what will be around the next corner. I mostly just stared out the window, doing my best to minimize the feeling of nausea growing inside my stomach.

Being in Tofino is like being in your own little protected bubble. Out on the peninsula, I felt safe, protected, comforted, and away from the realities of the rest of the world. I felt my worries and fears dissipate each time I set eyes on the magnificent sunsets over the waves of the Pacific Ocean and rocky bluffs, asking myself each time, how is it that life could be and feel this simple? Our days in Tofino were spent eating beautiful breakfasts provided by our lovely friends at the Common Loaf Café, going on many a beach or rainforest walk, watching beautiful sunsets, storm watching, and learning how to surf.

The day that I learned how to surf for the first time was a memorable moment. I remember wondering how it would feel to be swimming in the ocean in a wetsuit in the beginning of December, thinking about the snow that had just arrived back in Ontario. As the water started to fill up in my wetsuit and become warm against my skin, I remember feeling butterflies soaring through me. I’m in the ocean, at the beginning of December, surfing whitewash, watching the sunset and mist rise off of the waves, and hanging out with wonderful and easy-going human beings. This is what life is all about, I thought. These are the kinds of moments that I will look back on years from now and remember fondly. I think I managed to stand up on my surfboard once or twice for about 5 seconds until the waves took me under. Still, I was out there, soaking in the salt water, sun, and waves. I was a part of it all. I was present in that moment. I was happy. That’s what matters most to me. That is what I will remember.

After some glorious days in Tofino, we packed up Fifi once more and headed over to Cumberland to meet up with a friend. After a couple days exploring the Courtney, Comox, and Cumberland area, all three of us headed back to the south of the island, hoping to find some sense of direction. When the perfect opportunity for housing on the island for the winter popped up, we took it; got in our car, drove back across the island, and we’ve been here ever since.

I’m now nestled away by the ocean, sea lions, and big trees for the winter. I’m having my own “Gossip Girl” moment where I won’t tell where I am on this blog, for personal privacy’s sake, but there will be sure to be more writing, poetry, and blog posts to come in the new year of places I am adventuring to and exploring.

This year has been so many things; uncertain, ever-changing, scary, hopeful, unforgiving, loving, joyful. When 2020 started I had no idea that this year would be ending in this way. I am so grateful for every moment that this year has taught me about myself, life, love, community, relationships, perspective, gratitude, and joy, especially while on the road. I’m especially grateful to the people in my life who have made this year worthwhile. I am eternally grateful to Mother Earth and the living world right outside my doorstep for providing me with solace and comfort during the hard times, and celebrating with me in the sunshine on my best days. Nature has always been my greatest healer.

Soon, we will be back on the road and ready for more adventures back across Canada, and hopefully in the new year, across the world. Until then, I am here, doing my best to live in the present moment, in love, gratitude, joy, and reciprocity.

All for now,

All my love,

Onward.

-m