Escape to Canada (and the ER)
Vancouver Island (Tofino & Sproat Lake)
Day 1: Escaping the Sky Booms 🇨🇦
We left Seattle on July 3rd. A full day before America’s sparkly firework-fest. For the unfamiliar: July 4th means barbecues, parades, and (unnecessary) explosions that scare the heck out of every dog in the country. Louie included. We’ve learned the best way to survive is to flee. North.
But on the night of July 2nd, as I was getting the van ready, I realized I’d left the water pump on since our last trip. Three. Weeks. Ago. The battery? Toasted. Ya 3ayb el shoum! (Translates to “Shame on me!”. A phrase your mom might say when you forget to call her back.) Instead of a calm night of prep, I found myself elbow-deep in wires, headlamp on, trying to resuscitate the van’s electrical system like a mad scientist with a voltage fetish. It was midnight by the time I finished packing. Sleep? Ma fi. (Lebanese for “none”.)
We were up early the next morning to cross the border and make a quick pit stop at Decathlon to pick up a new ultra-compact SUP I had ordered. Oh and if you're wondering what Decathlon is, it's a French outdoor megastore I’m deeply obsessed with. Think IKEA for campers, but everything folds, inflates, or clips onto a backpack. I went in for a SUP and walked out with four things. Self-control? Ma fi.
We caught the 12:45pm ferry and somehow scored front-row placement - first car on, right at the nose, full oceanfront view. It should’ve been glorious, but I spent most of the ride crouched in the back, testing voltages, checking current draw, and muttering to the battery like it owed me rent. Spoiler: it’s toast. Warranty email sent.
On the island, we hit Costco to stock up on our favorite “only-in-Canada” snacks, then rolled into Sproat Lake Provincial Park. Site 40. Louie got a dip, we cooked dinner, and just as we were settling in, a park ranger strolled over with a smile and a warm welcome, no citation clipboard in sight.
Alizée and I looked at each other like, “What planet is this?”
(No offense American rangers, you’re great too. But usually you show up when someone lit something on fire or got caught flying a drone where they definitely shouldn’t have been.)
Day 2: The road to Tofino (eventually)
Slept like rocks. Woke up fresh. Took the ranger’s advice and headed to Taylor Arm Provincial Park. Crystal water, zero people, paddled for hours (shukran to the ranger for the tip).
Then we hit the road west to Tofino. What should’ve been a one-hour drive became three thanks to every waterfall and creek along Kennedy River begging us to stop. Some we pinned. Others? Too secret to share here (DM me).
Lunch was at a “rest stop” (Taylor River) that looked more like a curated picnic experience from your Instagram feed.
In Tofino, we rewarded ourselves with a beer flight at Tofino Brewing, including their famous Kelp Stout. Kelp in beer? Sounds suspicious, tastes like magic. We posted up in their sunny, dog-friendly patio, Louie lounging like a regular.
Eventually made it to Long Beach Campground, where we claimed site #37 and took the holy grail of vanlife luxuries: a hot shower. Dinner. Stars. Bed. Bliss.
Day 3: Coffee, kind strangers & a paw-powered detour
Started with coffee at MAQ Café. A dog-friendly hotel with a sunny patio and great views. Highly recommend it, but be warned: the café shuts down at noon sharp, so don’t show up dreaming of an afternoon espresso. Met a fellow Seattleite in town for surf lessons who got grilled at the Canadian border. Alizée and I smirked: welcome to our world (and everyone who isn’t an American citizen and has had the joy of getting grilled by US border patrol like a fugitive trying to smuggle a suitcase full of labneh.)
We hiked the Tonquin Trail to Mackenzie Beach, where we chatted with a sweet couple from Toronto. They were incredibly kind, and we ended up walking the entire trail back and forth together. At one point, I turned to Alizée and said, “I hope when we’re their age, we still have the same energy and desire for adventure that we have today.”
After finishing the Tonquin Trail, we drove over to the Willowbrae Trail. Our next planned hike for the day. But Louie had other plans. Just ten minutes in, he threw an unambiguous U-turn. No limping, no whining. Just a firm, full-body veto. He was clearly done with pebbled paths for the day. With his ultra-sensitive paw pads, we figured it wasn’t worth pushing it. We turned around and followed his lead.
Silver lining? We found South Beach nearby. A stunning, endless stretch of sand. Walked two hours. Louie happy. Us too.
Day 4: A stone is born (in me)
2am. I wake up. My kidneys decided to spice things up. At first, I thought it was trapped gas. I did what any hopeful human would: tried to let out a few discreet farts and said a quick prayer to Saint Charbel for relief. But nope… the pain didn’t leave. It stayed. And then it amplified. Ya 3einéh!
It felt like trying to shove a LEGO piece through a coffee straw. A pain so sharp, so sudden, I genuinely thought: this is it. This is how I go. Take me now. I’ve lived a good life. I’ve eaten my za’atar.
We scrambled to pack up the van. Alizée did most of it like a boss while I barked instructions in between moans and dramatic gasps. She drove the van (her first time!) while I, at one point, asked her to pull over so I could puke from pain. Twice.
At the ER, I collapsed on the check-in floor like I was auditioning for a medical drama. Groaning. Sweating. Vomiting.
The nurse took one look and said, “Let’s get him something, fast.”
Dr. Marsden, a kind man with the calm of a Buddhist monk and the humor of a dad, got me hooked up to fluids and pain meds. He asked if I worked in healthcare because I used such specific language. I told him I just Google a lot and I’m dramatic by nature, and borderline hypochondriac.
Turns out, I was passing a kidney stone. Five days later, I still am. For the uninitiated: it’s when your kidney decides to manufacture a spiky little rock for no reason, and then sends it down your urinary tract like it’s auditioning for Ninja Turtles. The pain? Off the charts. Like someone trying to floss your organs with barbed wire dipped in tabasco.
I left with two pee strainers (adorable), a $1330 bill (less adorable, but hey! A steep discount relative to what I would've pained in the US), and strict instructions to keep drinking water and wait for the stone to exit. No timeline. No control. Just vibes. And by vibes, I mean waves of excruciating, unpredictable pain.
I was discharged. We headed back to camp for rest. Ice cream at Tofino Licks helped lift the mood. Long Beach walk. I carried my strainer like a badge of honor.
Day 5: Chill, paddle, repeat (with flare-ups)
Despite another midnight flare-up, I got real sleep. We returned to Sproat Lake for one last beach day. 27°C. Sunny. Perfect.
Launched the kayak and SUP… then pain hit mid-lake. I paddled back breathing like I was in labor. Recovered. Tried again. But our 8-year-old kayak? Popped a seam. RIP.
Louie, unbothered, made himself at home on our neighbor’s towel. Which gave me a perfect excuse to chat. She was a paramedic. We ended up talking healthcare, US/Canada differences, and how Americans are currently viewed up north. Spoiler: not great. Boycotts are real. People avoiding the border? Real.
As a Canadian, it made me both sad and proud. I’ve always loved Canada, but this trip, the patriotism was everywhere. Bumpers, grocery labels, beach towels, hats. So many maple leaves. And I loved it.
That evening I called my parents. Asked if kidney stones ran in the family. Their response? “BOHSLE?? Of course!” (“Bohsle” is our word for kidney stone in Lebanon. Simple. Blunt. And every bit as uncomfortable as it sounds.)
Turns out my grandfather and uncle were basically crystal factories.
So now I know. And I hope this was my one and only artisanal kidney gem.
Takeaways & trip planning jewels 💎
Sproat Lake Provincial Park = peaceful, perfectly placed between Nanaimo ferry and Tofino
Taylor Arm Provincial Park = crystal clear paddling gem
Kennedy River = full of unmarked roadside creeks. Keep your eyes peeled and don’t be afraid to pull over and explore.
Tofino Brewing = get the Kelp Stout, thank me later
Kidney stones = do not recommend
Yalla, bye! Until the next one. ✌️
P.S. If van life isn’t your only thing - same! I write about product management (with a sense of humor) over at Ship Happens 🚀 and I also share Alizée’s ridiculously delicious sweet recipes on Her Recipes 🥐. Give those a look if you're hungry for more.
