Brown's Bay the Biker's Way

WE EXPLORE our neighbourhood with our Russian URAL bike. One day we headed out to Brown’s Bay, north of Campbell River, to have a picnic and fly our kites. We settled in a cozy place to unpack and feast on fresh fruit and sandwiches. Sadly, there was not enough space to fly our kites.

A friendly seal paddled around the dock and made eye contact with us. Boats were moored and fishers took to the water.

On our way back to Highway 19A, a steep gravel road caught our attention. Frank motioned for us to take it and I responded with thumbs up. The Ural is meant to handle this type of trail especially when it’s kicked into two-wheel drive. Frank revved the motor and roared up the road. The forty-degree grade was a challenge for the URAL. It felt like riding an untamed stallion. The thirteen-kilometre vertical challenged Frank's strength as the loose gravel flew in all directions and our wheels sunk into the soft sand.

When he stopped the bike I climbed out of the sidecar to admire the spectacular view of mountains and clear blue sky. My eyes caught something uncommon on the road behind us.

“Hey! What’s all that?” I said.

We walked closer to realize that our trunk had unlatched and all the contents had fallen out. We re-loaded the trunk, locked it securely and rumbled back down the trail.

Brown's Bay Vancouver Island

We love the side roads