A lot of people will tell you that, based on cartoons, roosters greet the dawn and then shut the fuck up.
I'm not sure how that theory got started, because I am awoken at five in the morning by a rooster that won't stop crowing. I get ready for the day, slowly growing to accept the concept of spending more precious minutes of my life in the pseudorural armpit of Pemberton BC.
I start to wonder if maybe staying here forever isn't quite so bad. Then I stop standing in the exhaust cloud left behind by Cool Ranch's cold idle and my thoughts become clearer.
Overnight it has developed that Kyle's dad has picked up Kyle's F-150, taken it to Slung Blade's dad's place, grabbed up a flatbed car trailer and began cannonballing the entire assembly all the way to BC. I am impressed at how handily the old-guy contingent has outmaneuvered us young bucks.
After a hearty pancake breakfast in the murder hostel's rec cabin, we reverse the previous day's shuffle activities.
Before I get a chance to get too accustomed to the twisties of rural BC while listening to Eurobeat blaring over the 10-speaker Celica surround sound system, my role as taxi driver comes to an end.
Both Kyle and Kelly greatly enjoyed their time in the Celica, from its brutal torque to its opulent comfort to its copious storage to its general lack of 120dB piercing rotor noise allowing you to have a conversation without the aid of a cabin-mounted radio system.
Now that the entire party is back together at the NAPA, a new problem arises: how do we get Sweet Chili Heat out to the street so it can be picked up by McTinkerdad?
Pushing doesn't move it, the toe is too extreme to overcome the tire scrub.
Sweet Chili Heat doesn't have enough torque to overcome the tire scrub either.
I volunteer the Celica. Kyle says "I don't think the Celica has enough torque to tow the RX7."
The Celica has enough torque to tow the RX7.
With McTinkerdad approaching, we decide to leave Kyle and Kelly behind with Sweet Chili Heat's shattered form in Pemberton to spend an entire day. The last we see of them is their lonely forms crossing the railroad tracks, preparing themselves for an exciting 24 hours in BC's most aspirational town.
The drive to Whistler is largely uneventful. I use my right foot judiciously, and let the 5SFE eat. If we can't make Tofino, we can at least make the coast.
Hours later, we roll into the ferry terminal in Vancouver.
After a quick scrum it is decided that we must get out of Vancouver immediately.
The next few hours of going down the TCH are a blur. I probably came close to heatstroke a few times, consuming our entire quantity of water as I worked the temperature dial to make sure that the engine would stop overheating on the heat-soaked pavement in this rush-hour furnace.
At last, we make it to clear traffic, and Chilliwack, where we stop for sushi.
We receive word of the successful pickup of Sweet Chili Heat around this time. In fact, not only did they pick it up successfully, but they already passed through Kamloops on the way back to Alberta. We missed them by about a half hour.
Obviously, tomorrow we would have to drive much faster.