The Island looks different from the highway shoulder
Published 7:10 am Wednesday, October 7, 2026
I’ve driven across Vancouver Island more times than I can count, usually focused entirely on the destination.
But seeing it at 25 kilometres an hour changes the landscape entirely. When you’re spending hours in the saddle with the wind in your face, the Island you thought you knew starts to shift.
Over 14 days, our team pedalled more than 1,000 kilometres from Port Alice to Greater Victoria. Together, we raised more than $700,000 for childhood cancer research and support programs.
Somewhere along those winding highways, we stopped simply passing through.
Take Wally Creek. I’ve driven past it on the way to Tofino at least two dozen times, usually in a rush to beat the traffic. During Tour de Rock, it was a scheduled lunch stop.
Sitting there for an hour, eating a packed lunch, talking with teammates and actually watching the water carve through the rock was a stark contrast to blowing past it behind a windshield.
From the secluded stretches of Port Alice to the tree-lined highways of the North Island and the imposing mountains behind Woss, we weren’t simply passing through anymore, we were finally absorbing the details.
The route also forced a surreal detour through my own past. We stopped at Arrowview Elementary and Kwalikum Secondary School in Qualicum Beach, the two schools I attended growing up.
Rolling up to my old stomping grounds in full cycling gear and seeing former teachers brought the ride full circle. Standing in the same parking lots where I used to kill time as a teenager brought the sheer scale of the journey into sharp focus.
But the scenery and nostalgia were secondary to the reason we were on the bikes in the first place.
I met Jasper, one of my two honorary riders, during a training ride on Salt Spring in June. On the second day of the tour, I met Emily and her family in Port Hardy.
Both families are navigating the brutal, terrifying reality of a childhood cancer diagnosis. The heavy toll of hospitals, treatments and fear is a weight they have to shoulder every single day.
Yet when Jasper and Emily interacted with our team, they brought the exact chaotic joy you’d expect from any kid just looking to have a good time.
Seeing them laugh, smile and simply be kids was a powerful reminder that cancer does not define who they are. Their resilience, and the resilience of the families we met along the way, made their courage impossible to overlook.
That courage puts everything into perspective. When you witness the reality these families are forced to navigate, the physical toll of spending 14 days on a bike feels incredibly small.
It transforms the 1,000-kilometre journey into a sharp, daily reminder that simply being able to move freely is a rare and heavy privilege.
At the end of it all, my biggest takeaway wasn’t some grand epiphany: there is immense value in slowing down long enough to see exactly where you are, who is riding beside you and how incredibly lucky you are to be in the saddle.