Christmas in Vancouver didn’t exactly go as planned.. (see video… or skip it and keep reading, it’s way more positive down at the bottom!)
I was an anxiety ridden wreck in the big city and needed to rest and recover somewhere highly removed from the bustle of people, cars, cell reception, more people, and the generally Christmassy-ness of everything.
So I messaged my van-dwelling friend Chance and we decided to take our homes out to the west coast of Vancouver Island and live wild(er) for a few days. This was night 25 and 26 of westy-living.
Jordan River. The place I used to come to when I was the gromet of the group, where I learned to surf on the oldest surfboard known to man in dish gloves and a too-big wetsuit. The place thats on the cusp of civilization but wild enough to blow any contagious worries away and disconnected enough to allow enjoyment in every moment of uninterrupted existance.
My heart swells in growing sets that keep rhythm to the water at our front doors. This is where I thrive.
Jordan River Regional Park is a 187 hectare park of coastal forest approximately 1.5hours northwest of Victoria. On a clear day the Olympic Peninsula pops out from beyond the ocean in a majestic wall of mountain peaks, though while we where there the dark stormy sky all but eclipsed the snow capped mounts.
We camped at the main campsite just off of highway 14, its the perfect place to look out and watch the great Pacific world. Camping in the offseason is cheap: $10/night and $5 extra per vehicle. Payment at the campsite is done on a honours system with self-registration and irregular checks. We didn’t see any park rangers while we where there, though the outhouses where always well stoked and the campsite was full.
With the big weather coming through the surfers where out in high numbers at the two breaks out in front of our campsite. It was mesmerizing to watch them. On our last day one of our neighbours even encouraged us to get out there and try a wave or two… something I haven’t done in about six years. The encouragement was welcome, but I’m staying on dry land.
In between the rainy downfalls and the huge wind gusts we had clips of beautiful sunlight where we would run out of the vans and enjoy a hike, some photos or a good teeth brushing session in the waves. For the most part though it rained and aside from a surf-point yoga session, we hunkered down in our cozy (and cold) van-homes.
It was the perfect post-Christmas vacation. The beaches and elements sourounding us grounded me as deep as the Juan de Fuca Straight we looked out on. The company was perfect and my beautiful little dog was so happy.