Unexpected Connections: North Vancouver Island

With borders closed and wildfires across our home province of British Columbia, all plans for a summer ride were decimated. My partner Ray had a milestone birthday approaching and I wanted to take him away. Knowing experiences are more important to him than material things, a road trip seemed the best gift. But where to go? Was there a place we’d not yet explored?

Putting our heads together, it was not long before we hatched a plan for the remote and relatively untouched wilderness regions of northern Vancouver Island. While I’ve spent my entire life living on this island, it’s only been the last few years that I really began discovering all it holds. So, as we often do, we decided to travel without an itinerary, leaving us to explore without constraints or schedules. And as much as we would be disconnected there, it turned out that this trip would bring clarity to the connections that surround us daily.

A thrilling ride along Hashamu Road suggested by ADV rider, Joel Ross.

The first day out was a pavement slog through heavy, long-weekend traffic. We were loaded: Mosko Moto luggage jammed with clothes, first aid kit, safety and repair tools and, of course, camera equipment. Once north of Campbell River, cell service disappeared, only to be had in towns. Ah, being disconnected felt great!

There’s something different about the north end of Vancouver Island which I noticed as it attacked the senses: the feeling of fresh mountain air as it streamed through my HJC helmet and REV’IT! gear vents, the smell of fir trees and wildflowers, and the grandeur of island mountain ranges as we rode along the coast. One can get lost where there is nothing but you and nature.

Port McNeil, our home base, is part of what the Islanders lovingly refer to as the “TriPort” area, along with Port Alice and Port Hardy. A quaint town, this “gateway community to the Broughton Archipelago” and home to the World’s Largest Burl, lies along the Queen Charlotte Straight and has the basic necessities but boasts nothing extravagant. Perfect. A hot meal at the local pub, a stroll along the waterfront, and a front-row seat to a momma eagle encouraging her two playful offspring to fly provided a magnificent end to a long day in the saddle.

Port McNeil is “gateway community to the Broughton Archipelago” and home to the World’s Largest Burl.

The next day we rode south toward Zeballos, known for its sport fishing and ecotourism, and decided to navigate the north end of Atluck Lake—and are we ever glad we did. The dirt road that hugs the edge of a crystal-clear blue lake provided yet another front row seat to the lush green mountains on one side and a jagged rock face on the other. Little traffic on this road meant the freedom to choose our lines, slow down, and enjoy various side roads, as well as the opportunity to snap a few images. The logging roads are mostly ungated or open, offering unlimited options to travel the remote areas of the north. If you come this way, make sure you have a SPOT device, or similar satellite tracker, the north is truly that isolated.

The town of Port Alice, along with the surrounding area, offered a ton of paved fun and laughs. Highway 30 is a rider’s dream no matter what flavor you ride. The 30 kilometers of undulating tarmac with its sweepers and decreasing radius corners were a hoot. While Ray yahooed into his Sena comm unit, I lost my tummy and found some air on a few whoop-dee-dos. It was all I could do not to throw both hands up in the air as this roller coaster of asphalt provided huge entertainment.

Ray caught by surprise as he catches up to me.

Here one doesn’t have to look far for adventure, either. Once outside any of the small towns it’s a rider’s paradise. As we headed west, we reached Coal Harbour, with a classic wooden sign, hung slightly askew, stating it is a “whale of a town.” The history tells that this fishing village, along Quatsino Sound, had been a military base, as well as Canada’s last whaling station. Float planes remain a way in and out of the sound for many, and the old hangar contains a 20-foot jawbone from a blue whale, the largest found in the world. We took a quick stop here and then continued westward to the tiny village of Holberg.

Ray contemplating a different mode of transportation as he admires this DHC-2 Beaver in Coal Harbour.

Our map indicated approximately 50 kilometers of gravel road, but the difficulty was not what we expected. Think about piles of “marbles on the floor,” a metaphor that sounds about right; it demanded total concentration. After a few handlebar-clenching kilometers, we pulled over and aired down the Dunlop Trailmax Missions. So much better! Rounding a corner, we were greeted by foreboding signs advising road users about steep grades, blind corners, soft shoulders, heavy equipment, and logging trucks. Directly across the road was a red Cadillac crushed by a huge old-growth tree with a large sign, “Be prepared for the unexpected.” We could not help but play tourist, climbing on the car and grabbing a few shots. The sign provided a little foreshadowing, but not for reasons you might expect.

An “unexpected” photo op and time for a little fun.

Here’s where the human story, a story of connection, enters. About 10 kilometers from the town, three adventure motorcycles pulled in front of us from an adjacent dirt road; we followed them the rest of the way to Holberg. When we reached the corner store, we were surprised to see it was none other than a fellow adventure rider we follow on Instagram, Joel Ross (adv_rider_joelross). We knew from his recent posts that he was on the island, but what are the chances we’d end up meeting in this tiny town of only five full-time residents? He recognized us immediately from our license plates.

As we chatted with Joel and his friends, the store’s owner, Marc Hanslo, came out to greet us all. A lovely South African gentleman, he had made his way to Canada to support his son’s motocross racing dreams. Later he purchased the Holberg General Store and expanded it, adding a dedicated campsite for motorcyclists. As Holberg is a jumping-off point to Cape Scott and the North Coast Trail for hikers and campers, as well as an adventure and dirt biker destination, Marc may have just found a diamond in the rough.

Marc Hanslo made his way from South African to Canada to support his son’s motocross racing dreams.

We lingered for quite some time around the table with these riders we knew from social media but had never met in person. I loved the exchange of stories, tips and laughter. Ray and I frequently discuss the upside of social media and how we have connected with “Instafriends” from around the world. Meeting them in person and having an instant kinship is the positive bond that social media can bring. And we’ve played host and been invited to visit others more times than I can count. The human connection was never clearer than on this trip. As we parted, I couldn’t help but smile at the amazing afternoon we’d just spent.

The ride back was even more picturesque and less traveled. As we rode out, my thoughts drifted to our connection with others, and now as we descended along an ocean inlet, the connection with nature. Flower-filled fields and stunning vistas had me feeling the sense of adventure on a much deeper level. More than just ripping along a dirt road, it filled me with happiness.

Ray playing conductor on an old steam engine in Woss.

The north island was so intriguing we decided to do an additional 100-kilometer loop of gravel road around Lake Alice. Along the way we stopped to photograph the Eternal Fountain, a waterfall that appears from nowhere and then disappears back into the ground. We also saw the Devil’s Bath, one of Canada’s largest cenotes. Nature’s wonders never cease to amaze us.

On the long way home, I couldn’t help but think we’d done something so much more than an adventure ride to stunning locations in the far north of Vancouver Island. The ride, the adventure, the views, nature and, most importantly, the people, all provided such a connection—the kind that stays with you long after the ride. And THAT is why we ride.

Taking the time to stop and enjoy the aroma of B.C.’s wildflowers.

Cheryl Jones is a Registered Nurse and mother of three who has discovered a passion for adventure riding. She has traveled through Europe, Africa and most recently part of Asia on two wheels. An avid photographer, she enjoys the candid capture and has a love for writing.