two chapped asses and a shit patty- (AKA The Rouse Family Vacation)

This year's annual bike touring trip took us 320 miles along the sunshine coast in Canada.

 Day one took us across the Canadian border through Vancouver. The border crossing on bikes was easy-except Brandon was  randomly selected and received a mail in COVID test box with instructions. We stashed the kit and carried on with the plan to camp at a Bike Packing Host's backyard in West Vancouver. Biking through Vancouver was more fun than driving through Vancouver-mostly gravel paths and beautiful traffic free greenways took us to our "host's address". Initially, we had the wrong host address and surprised some Asian lady wearing a bathrobe who wasn't expecting two stinky bike tourists and a toddler on her porch.  She shook her head violently, flicked her fingers in a shooing like motion  as if we were Jehovah's Witnesses and stated "No Phil live here!" Turns out we were one block off - we found the right address and our Canadian hosts that night were amazing. They had a nice botanical like backyard garden and a dog for Annabelle to chase around- making it an easy first night. 

The next morning we got behind schedule trying to download Canadian COVID apps and fill out Brandon's test kit with limited internet accessibility. After biking this specimen kit all around Vancouver we finally found a  fedex drop site to dump it off and we had to sprint to catch a ferry.  I blew my load the first hour of riding and the rest of the day was spent biking the same 18% uphill grade for 68.5 miles. I told Brandon I was going to die and my butt cheeks were experiencing immense jiggle fatigue. So we stopped at a grocery store and power ate. In ten minutes we proudly scarfed down 1500 calories of Ben and Jerrys ice cream, a quart of chocolate milk and a cinnamon roll. This epic eating session left me feeling all American and also like I was going to immediately catch the diabetes, but not catch the ferry. All jacked up on sugar we road the rest of the way to a second ferry where we chatted with another bike packer from Squamish who lives in the woods and were entertained by some other crazy guy clearly jacked up on something other than Ben and Jerrys possibly heroine. We were so late we rolled into camp around 10 PM. 

Brandon bonked the next day and I tried refueling him with root beer floats. The sugar only carried him another two miles to the first campsite we road by where he declared defeat. The campground had a sweet  playground and waterpark. Although Annabelle played her heart out we had our first night of "Annahelling" on the trip and sleep was spotty.

After a sleepless night with our toddler Brandon- AKA Daddy-o of the year- took her to a park and told me to relax. I decided to indulge in some second morning coffee. I must have been pretty tired because I set the picnic table on fire, like a roaring fire. I put the fire out and ignored the signs from the Gods  and ultimately made second coffee . We road off towards our next camp Miracle Beach. 

Miracle Beach had  super awesome warm shallow water due to unusual tides. It seemed like you could walk out for "Kilometers". All the other parents had it figured out- bring lawn chairs and beer in the water- sit- get shit housed- let kids go feral. Everyone wins- we were learning the Canadian way.  We met another crazy Canadian Bike tourist who you could smell coming before you saw him and also learned some new Canadian quotes "I'd rather eat shit from a basket" and "Thank god for Christmas trees". Thinking in Kilometers and talking the lingo- clearly ready to go all Canadian just after four days. 

 Rathevor Beach was our next camp. When we rolled in we realized  our lighter was broken and there was no camp fuel because i used it all in my picnic table fire. Highlights of the ride were good mall cinnamon rolls and a mall airplane for Annabelle to play on. 

The next day of riding was supposed to be long and down an interstate basically all day. Ten miles of horrible riding took us to the first city where we could catch a bus and bypass the interstate ride. Belle is just about done with potty training and totally fecally focused right now. On the bus she loudly and repeatedly declared "I wanta see poop come out of your butt mama". Once she was out of that loop she sang her version of Ba Ba black sheep which goes as follows "Ba Ba Black sheep...babble babble babble... three bags full of poop". This night we hoteled it, slept well, ate excellent thai food and all watched  Jaws II- the perfect movie for a two year old. 

Belle helping Mama with a diaper change 

The last day we were feeling refreshed and the miles came easy. We crossed the border thinking how great Annabelle did and how she only had one pee accident at night. Talking to the border guard, when we took her out of the trailer to go through customs she had majorly shat her pants- Who feeds their toddler thai food and then jostles them around in a trailer? Dumbasses do. Poop spilled out everywhere like a poorly formed hamburger patty but instead of beef-poop. After cleaning things up we cleared customs and road back to the van which was still parked at the park and ride with no Van-dalism. (Van -dalism joke credit: Brandon Rouse).

 Circuit complete. 

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