Our day started with many ups, downs and hairpin turns crossing Vancouver Island. After a frustrating stop at an uncooperative Canadian Tire store, we had a pleasant experience at a helpful Wal-Mart where we got the flat tire on our Scion fixed. Subsequent stops at numerous stores failed to find a replacement for our apparently dead GPS, so we figured we’d stop early after the ferry ride to the mainland and pick one up at Best Buy.

Rain was pouring down as we left Horseshoe Bay for what appeared to be the 10-minute ride to the Port Alice Full Service RV Park Camp Ground, and for the first 90 seconds all seemed to go ok.

That’s when we exited the port onto Marine Drive and found ourselves on a very twisty, increasingly residential, and progressively narrower street in North Vancouver. We inched along looking for the campground and wishing we didn’t feel so much in the way of the other drivers waiting for us to pass. We clearly did not belong here, and although it seemed we’d gone too far there was no feasible way to turn around so we pressed on another couple of miles.

Finally, we found a spot where there was just enough room for a car to pass and pulled over for another look at the map. Knowing that without Internet connectivity we would not have Google Maps, I had bought DeLORME Street Atlas USA 2009 and installed it on my computer so we would always have detailed maps throughout the trip. In fact, it was this trusty software that had turned up the conveniently located Port Alice Full Service RV Park Camp Ground right outside of Horseshoe Bay.

The map confirmed that we had made no wrong turns. It clearly showed that we had passed the desired location. And we were moving slowly enough that we knew we hadn’t missed it. So we splurged on an expensive cell phone call (Verizon has pretty heavy roaming surcharges in Canada on top of the long distance charges to call from Columbus) and actually got to talk to the Port Alice Full Service RV Park Camp Ground.

“Yes,” said the pleasant woman who answered. “We have room for you tonite. Yes, we are on Marine Drive. Yes, we are just a few blocks from the highway.”

“Well, then, what does your sign look like?”, I asked. “We must have driven right by you because we are now at Marine and 26th Street.”

“Er… Ummm… Can you please tell me where you are?”, she asked. “Are you in Nanaimo?”

Nanaimo? Nanaimo is the city on Vancouver Island from which we departed on the ferry for the trip across the Strait of Georgia. The map software, it seems, had shown the campground about 30 miles east of its actual location.

It was after five o’clock. The map software no longer seemed trustworthy. Despite my comments that it would not work, Susi turned on the GPS. Surprise! It turned on. It kept working, and it’s been reliable every since. Hooray! And Hooray for Susi for trying it anyway!

We decided to find a Wal-Mart parking lot and just hole up for a rainy night. The GPS directed us to the nearest one that was about 13 miles away. Unfortunately, it was across Vancouver in stop-and-go rush hour traffic. One hour and 6 miles later we were totally fed up with big cities. We turned around and headed for the nearest Provincial Park the GPS could find at Porteau Cove. Fortunately, it only took about 10 minutes of driving away from town to get clear of the jam, and soon we were buzzing along the beautiful Sea to Sky Highway.

Forty five minutes later, as we happily pulled into a lovely campground after a day of city frustrations, I recalled the earliest conversation of the morning. The woman who filled our gas tank at the Co-Op station in Tofino had pleasantly answered my questions. She was a First Nations person of the Clayoquot tribe who had grown up on nearby Long Beach.

“It’s so crowded there now,” she told me. “When I was little there were only three houses. Now there are over THIRTY!” After our little jaunt into North Vancouver, I sure had a bit more respect for her perspective on crowds!