As long as I’ve been in California, US 101 has been a part of my motorcycle ethos. Whether it’s trips up to the Redwood country to search for Sasquatch, visiting good friends in wine country, commuting to work in downtown San Francisco, exploring great roads and seeing friends along the central coast, or that ever-so-infrequent stretch down to downtown LA, US 101 is always part of the ride.

Of course, US 101 extends beyond California’s borders, following the craggy coast of Oregon before heading inland across Washington state. What’s particularly curious is that US 101 circles the Olympic Peninsula. While most Californians know US 101 as a north-south freeway, inside the Olympic Peninsula it picks up north, east, west, and south directional designations. I once made the mistake of thinking Highway 101 ended there. Canada laughed at me.

Traveling across British Columbia, I got to see a number of their north-south corridors: 93, 95, 97, and 99. Each had its own ethos, geography, and climate. When R and I would head over to West Vancouver, my eyes often missed what was in plain sight: BC Highway 101. What starts in downtown LA doesn’t really end on the Olympic Peninsula—Highway 101 continues north of the US border inside British Columbia. There, Highway 101 is the marine route through British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast. What is a marine route, you ask? Highway 101 starts on the mainland in Horseshoe Bay, but then travels up the Sunshine Coast via not one, but two ferries!

R and I would often joke about going over to the island. I get starry-eyed thinking about the adventures over there, while R often considers the actual mechanics of making it happen. Ferries are difficult. You have to get reservations, timing is critical, and if anything happens, you can easily get stuck on the island. But I keep thinking—wouldn’t it be so cool to get on a boat? It’s the amiable, optimistic American in me that comes out sometimes.

Well, as fortune would have it, ferries are much easier when you’re on a motorcycle. You get on first. You get off first. If anything happens, you’re the first priority. In airline speak, motorcycles are the coveted zone 1 passengers.

R and I headed out early, wanting to catch the second ferry out of Horseshoe Bay over to Langdale. Fortunately, the lions on the Lions Gate Bridge showed kindness to us three times in a row—fantastic! We arrived at the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare; the boat wasn’t leaving for about 45 minutes. Even with that much spare time, the queue was definitely filling up. We ran into some older folks (60s to 80s) from Alberta who were curious about our adventures. We talked about the bikes and the journey ahead. They weren’t riders, but that’s okay—they followed our adventure nonetheless. We talked about Alberta. I confessed that I absolutely loved the show Heartland. They laughed as R rolled his eyes. The ferry terminal feels a lot like an electric vehicle charging station: you’ve got a captive audience that tends to be more social than what you find in airports. I’ve had more conversations on one road trip in my EV than I’ve had in my entire life at an airport. I find that dynamic quite interesting.

I’m encouraged to see the adoption of electric vehicles here in British Columbia. Much like Seattle and Portland, Vancouver is an optimal place to own an electric vehicle. With relatively high gas prices and astronomically low energy prices due to a proliferation of hydroelectric power, BC quickly benefits from the decarbonization of its vehicles. I’ve always had a soft spot for the Ford F150 lightning. From a market perspective, I think Ford did a great job bringing its customer base along by simply electrifying their gasoline offering and changing nothing else.

The harbormaster signaled for us to board the boat. Motorcycles went first—yay! As we settled in, R reminded me that we needed to secure our bikes. I found one of the chocks to slide on the opposite side of the kickstand to prevent the bike from falling over if the boat encountered rough water. Fortunately, the seas were calm that day, and the route between Horseshoe Bay and Langdale is highly sheltered. If the seas were rough here, we wouldn’t be on motorcycles. So much of me had my eyes wide open, curious for the adventure ahead. This was my first time on a BC Ferry, after hearing so much about them on the morning news and finally getting to see a new part of British Columbia. R and others talk about this part of British Columbia as a different place—separate from the mainland, but a part of the province nonetheless.

The boat ride was epic. It was awesome, humbling, and empowering to travel across the water on such a big boat, seeing the mountains, the waves, and the islands all together in this part of the province. We were headed to the Sunshine Coast—a part of British Columbia that is completely disconnected from the rest of the province except by boat. The Sunshine Coast is connected by land, but not by road. The rugged terrain in this part of the world makes it difficult to put a road between Squamish and Langdale. The ferry had a couple of decks for cars and a couple for people, complete with a restaurant and a gift shop. After I picked up the proverbial magnet, I wandered across the open deck to explore this part of the world.

About 45 minutes later, R and I arrived in Langdale. The harbormaster signaled to all of the bikes, “Start your engines!” We rode off the boat and continued north on Highway 101. This is where the marine route kicks in—even on the ferry, we were still on Highway 101. That concept took a little while to settle in for someone who’s always lived on the mainland. Traffic departing the ferry was steady. About 10 miles out, I wanted to turn left into a beach overlook, but R quickly signaled to keep going. His signal caught me off guard, but I followed him nonetheless. What I came to understand is that most of the traffic wasn’t destined for this part of the Sunshine Coast. They needed to get across this segment to reach the next ferry, likely bound for Powell River. BC Highway 101 is a connected series of land, water, and ferries to move people across an otherwise inaccessible area.

We stopped in the town of Sechelt just before lunch to take a look at the beach. Neither of us was really sure where to go. There were drag races (with cars, not RuPaul) in the area, but we decided not to go that direction. We saw what appeared to be a flea market across the way, so we headed that direction to see if there were any interesting local finds. While we didn’t find anything to purchase, we ran into a boisterous local who loved to talk motorcycles. He quickly picked up on us being in racing leathers and an Aerostich suit. Other than riding north on Highway 101, I didn’t have much context for this part of the world, so his local knowledge was warmly welcomed. After sharing a bit of our adventures, Ken pointed us toward the Grasshopper Pub up at the Pender Harbour Hotel. R seemed to have better context for Ken’s directions. I keyed in the name of the restaurant and we continued to head north.

Much like Highway 99, Highway 101 is a great road to ride. It wasn’t heavily trafficked and had nice turns to keep all sides of your tires happy. However, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why British Columbia doesn’t make roads scenic. We traveled 60 km (40 miles) and only saw the water twice. Plus, this is a coastal highway! We wandered up the highway to the restaurant, but I couldn’t quite figure out where the turn was and we missed it. Unfortunately, I navigated us down a steep, narrow driveway requiring some pretty technical maneuvers to turn around and climb back up. Eventually, we got there, but not without a glance or two from R. 😉

The Grasshopper Pub sits on top of the hill and has a beautiful view of Pender Harbour. As I looked across the landscape, it very much felt like being at the lake as a kid. I had to remind myself that while it may look similar, all of the water in front of me is saltwater—not freshwater. The differences between island life (yes, I know this isn’t quite the island) and life in the lower mainland start to become more apparent. It’s more casual here. People seem more relaxed and friendlier. Lunch was fantastic. I’m sure there’s a little bit of motorcycle-induced hunger, but I thoroughly enjoyed my burger. I even took a picture of it so you, my dear reader, could as well!

R and I decided we’d head back to Langdale rather than push to Earl’s Cove so that we could make the 3:30 ferry. This is where the structured nature of island life comes into play. If we didn’t make the 3:30 ferry, then we’d be getting into Vancouver after five, dealing with Sunday afternoon rush hour across the Lions Gate Bridge—which is never fun. I was surprised how full the queue was, arriving 45 minutes before departure in Langdale. R and I settled into different conversations while waiting for the ferry. He found a couple who had restored 1970s-era motorcycles to their former glory. He learned about finding the bikes, restoring each of the components, and combining them into the art form they are today. I quickly gravitated to a V-Strom 650 owner. He was an older gentleman who found motorcycling late in life. He mentioned he had been riding for about five years but was quickly making up for lost time. He talked about his trip to Tuktoyaktuk, which sits on the Arctic Ocean at the north end of Canada. He was planning a trip to Ushuaia, all the way at the other end of South America. Kudos to you, good rider. Maybe he’ll come see me on his way down through the Americas.

We arrived in Horseshoe Bay at 4:15 and quickly realized the Lions were angry. There was an accident on the bridge, closing one of the lanes and restricting the entire bridge to two-way traffic. A lot of me missed northern California and its lane-splitting culture. Sitting on the tarmac was painful, with the only saving grace being the fact that we could use the bus lane starting a mile down the road. Vancouver doesn’t have the heavy infrastructure to move people efficiently throughout the city, and this is one of the major chokepoints in town.

No adventure is complete without a little bit of adversity—for us, it was the Lions today, but with a bit of patience, they let us through back to Vancouver!

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