If I had a bucket list -which I don't because life itself is a bucket list - silly concept really - there would be a big fat check-mark next to Run Pender with the postscript die happy. Herein lies the impressions of a proud and happy flatlander from the centre of Canada, Winnipeg.
Pender Island is next to that other island called Salt something-or-other, a stone's throw from God's Waiting Room, aka Victoria, off the coast of multi-million-dollar-bungalows, Vancouver.
Hippies in tailored down MEC fashion and Birkenstocks tread the trails of Pender (the rich wear L.L Bean and Eddie Bauer). The preferred ride is Yaris and Prius or, if you prefer, smile and wave at a passing driver and a ride is assured. Pender's vibe is contagious. Cool is a toque with knee-high white socks and sandals. Pender is wine, cheese, craft beer, blackberries. Pender's beauty is sublime, unparalleled and overwhelming in simplicity of lifestyle.
We are enchanted with the locals, particularly Old Dave, whose deck we helped rebuild with re -purposed cedar planks, aged Scotch, and homemade hootch. That was a good day, but truly, you had to be there to appreciate the moment.
Run Pender. Die Happy. I hope you enjoy this little sliver of happiness from my vault of enchantment.
It's a good day to be alive.
Mike
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