In my continuing tradition of re-visiting places a decade later, Pender Island was the southern gulf island I probably saw the least on my first visit via bike in 2015. We were pressed for time, getting there on the ferry and having to get back on another ferry before it was dark to get to where we were staying, and we didn’t make it too far from the terminal. I remember being very tired.
I actually remember most of the handful of hours we spent there vividly. I remember we were in so much pain from overexertion we started singing (I don’t remember what, but I’ll guess All-Star by Smash Mouth), trying to push a bit farther to see as much as we could in that brief time. I remember the little alcove we found that was so peaceful, and this little stretch of forest next to it that had some of the coolest trees I’ve ever seen. Something about their shapes, colours, and a subtle mist made it feel like I was in a fairy world. I might’ve been high too but can’t say for certain.
I might remember it so vividly because Justin took a picture of that little forest next to the alcove that I liked so much I got it blown up and framed, eventually choosing to hang it in my cubicle at work pre-pandemic, with coworkers walking by commenting on it, like we were gathered briefly at a museum. (Near my cubicle, there were a few prints on the wall, including reproductions of a painting in the National Gallery and Nighthawks.)
One guy told me that sometimes he’d stop in front of my desk when I wasn’t there to just stare at the photo and get some peace.
The paper that photo was printed on has shriveled and warped, partly because it’s been involved in so many moves, partly because I had engineered a makeshift frame to pin it to my cube, partly because it was printed so long ago, and partly probably because of humidity at various times. But I still keep it above my desk, just now in my home office. I’ve done that in all four home offices I’ve had.
I’m impressed I was able to find the original Justin emailed me in 2018, before I moved into a house I could actually hang things in, when I actually had money to buy (cheap) frames for the first time in my life. But really it’s not that surprising since instead of deleting emails I just buy more storage space.
Here are some words I wrote back after that first trip:
Pender Island is the best proof from our adventures that you can’t separate who you are and what you bring from where you visit. It was the last Southern Gulf Island we visited, on our first weekend trip, and we were extremely exhausted. Our fatigue was compounded by the fact that Pender (at least where we biked) was the most mountainous. Steep, gravel hills as the sun sets and our resources all tapped out? It wasn’t a recipe for a true appreciation of Pender, though objectively there were some really nice spots.
When your more basic physical needs aren’t met (i.e., proper rest), it’s difficult to focus on needs higher up the pyramid, like aesthetic appreciation. Our moods tend to seep thru into our evaluations of experience, colouring how positive or negative we remember them when we reminisce. These retrospective evaluations tend to highlight our own biology rather than the scene apart from us, which paradoxically shows how we are connected symbiotically.
Pender is a pretty large, sparsely-populated space. We ran into fewer people here than anywhere else, though again part of that is the timing of when we went, which was late afternoon/ evening. Trudging thru the ocean-side forests made us feel like explorers in enchanted greenery.
One word remains for me: quiet. When it’s quiet, the self bubbles more actively to the surface, since it’s less distracted by the sensory environment. There are fewer things capturing attention. Like a drug, this quietness can accentuate whatever direction the self leans, which can make a great mood more serene and melancholy like quicksand. So much depends on the self, somewhat secretly.
My more recent trip to Pender was also a day trip, with the necessity of catching a ferry there and back, and it also wasn’t particularly long, but it was longer than the one in 2015. On this trip, I saw a group of about 10 women on bikes biking downhill to the cidery where I was enjoying a glass, and it brought me back to biking the gulf islands with Justin. I wished I had a group of gal pals I could do a trip like that with in 2025, especially now that the gulf islands are littered with breweries and cideries, which they weren’t in 2015. However, on this trip, we had a car, and a dog, and it looked different.
We still went for a hike, but it was a planned hike, where we drove to a parking lot and climbed to a lookout. It was incredibly steep most of the way, and honestly not that enjoyable. There was a local guy using it to train for a marathon or an iron man or something like that, going up and down repeatedly while we were taking several breaks just to walk to the top once. The lookout perch was blocked off because the boards were unsafe, so we walked around the boards and stood on the edge of the cliff instead. There were a few other groups around us at the top, coming and going, groups of friends. We wondered what their connection to each other was, how long they’ve known each other, how often they got together.
We also drove to a little lake for a swim. We nearly hit a young deer sprinting across the road. The water was cold but manageable. It was mostly families with young kids, and I felt a bit out of place, not wanting to take up space on the small rectangular dock.
The cider at the cidery was pretty good, though I can’t remember exactly what I had, and the guy working there was really calming and generous with the samples. The cidery itself was basically a shed where you could get bottles to have on the property, which consisted of a handful of picnic tables in a field. It was a similar vibe at the Victoria Cider Company in North Saanich near me, just a bit more bare bones. I would gladly return and recommend a picnic there on a nice day, which is pretty much any summer or late spring day around here.
In keeping with our theme, we also went to a farmer’s market, where I believe we bought some hot sauce. The highlight was holding a bunny that a man just brings for people to pet and donate some money if they like. There were also chickens to hold, kombucha, and cupcakes.
There are five southern gulf islands you can get a (relatively) easy ferry to, with Pender being the only one that’s technically two islands (a very small road bridge connects the north and south islands). Compared to the others, nothing about Pender particularly sticks out to me. All the things you can do and get on Pender you can do and get on one of the other islands, and the most the other islands have something about them I either like more or feels like more of a draw.
Pender remains a peaceful place to do relaxed outdoor activities and enjoy how beautiful everything around you is. If it’s the only gulf island you go to, you’ll be wowed because the area is incredible, and if you live nearby, it’s worth taking a day to check it out, or longer if you’re looking for that kind of getaway.
I’d like to go back and walk through that little forest again and take another picture of that tree, seeing if anything’s moved.
describing space 