After having such a wonderful time at the Pender Island Car Show, we packed up our 1953 Hudson Hornet and set our sights on the car show in Powell River.
On paper, the plan was simple: catch the two ferries, meet up with our friends, show off the Hudson, and enjoy the weekend. But as any classic car enthusiast knows, the road to a great event is rarely a straight line!
Bump #1: The Missing Sunglasses Panic
We decided to leave early to catch the ferry out of Horseshoe Bay. Right as I was heading out the door, panic struck—no sunglasses! (Because of some eye issues, driving without them is a non-starter).
I ran back inside. Nope, not there.
We scrambled to the dog park to check our daily driver, just in case. (And no, before you ask, Roux, our Golden Retriever, does not drive). Naturally, after all that running around, my glasses were safe and sound… right on the floor back at home.
Though we set out early, we were now wondering if we were going to make it on time—and we just made the first leg. But the travel gods weren’t done with us yet. Between heavy traffic and a whole lot of other folks heading to Powell River with the exact same idea, the next leg was packed. We ended up missing the connecting ferry from Earl’s Cove to Saltery Bay, adding a two-hour wait to our journey before we finally arrived.
Bump #2: Parking Politics & A Heated Parking Lot Debate
The event instructions asked participants not to arrive until 9:15 AM. Trying to be good guests, we decided to drive around, locate the venue, and hopefully squeeze in a quick car wash for the Hudson.
As we drove past, we saw a lineup forming, so we joined in. But when we reached the front, the parking attendant politely explained that only Powell River club members were parking first to get set up. They asked us to circle the block, park on the side street, and wait about 10 minutes. Fair enough!
While we waited on the street, mopping up the rain that had fallen overnight, the driver behind us hopped out of his truck grumbling.
He started fuming about club members getting priority. I gently pointed out that the organizers probably just needed to get situated so they could actually run the event for the rest of us.
That did not calm him down. Instead, it opened the floodgates.
Within two minutes, he was complaining about the Canadian government, asserting that Canada was far worse than USA by “selling out to China,” and dramatically stating “you know China is communist, don’t you?!”
I couldn’t help myself. I fired back: “I’d rather that than fascist.” He immediately declared that the US isn’t fascist because “they’re only sending illegals and criminals back to their own country.”
Do you recall my post, “Choosing a Path in a Noisy World” where I reminded everyone that arguing with certain (read: ignorant) people is a complete waste of precious time? I caught myself, remembered my own advice, and simply said, “I am done with this conversation.”
Bump #3: The Hudson Plays Dead
As if the political lecture wasn’t enough, the street we were parked on had a steep incline. Not a problem—until we were given the okay to head into the venue.
We turned the key. Nothing.
The Hudson always starts. The line of cars behind us had to go around, which is every classic car owner’s worst nightmare.
I suggested that the fuel gauge might be throwing a false reading because of the angle and that we should roll back down to flat ground. Certain unnamed co-pilots in the driver’s seat politely assured me that couldn’t be it—insisting it was getting both fuel and spark, so the hill wasn’t the issue.
Enter Bill, a wonderful local club member who stepped in to help us troubleshoot. Still no luck. Bill finally suggested that we back it down to the flat street.
We rolled it down, turned the key, and… it started right up. (Score one for intuitive troubleshooting!)
Of course, by the time we finally drove in, over 100 cars had already parked. We ended up parked way at the top of the hill, meaning I got my daily cardio in just walking back and forth to the car. To top it all off, the friend who was the main reason I wanted to attend ended up not being able to make it.
Though on the bright side? If we had been able to drive right in when we were finally given the go-ahead, we almost certainly would have been assigned a spot right next to the guy in the truck for the rest of the day.
Turning It All Around
Despite the rough start, the universe eventually balanced itself out.
The Powell River Car Show turned out to be an absolute triumph! The organization was something to behold, showcasing over 120 incredible vehicles. The food vendors were fantastic, the prize money was generous, and ending the day with a movie inside the historic Patricia Theatre was pure magic.
Watching Gone in 60 Seconds in the Patricia made us appreciate the building’s rich—and complex—history. Opened back in 1913 to entertain local mill workers, the theatre originally operated under strict segregation policies. Up until recent decades, members of the local Tla’amin Nation were relegated to a small 25-seat balcony via a separate second-floor entrance. If those 25 seats were full, they were turned away—even if the 250 seats in the main auditorium were completely empty.
It was touching to learn about the ongoing reconciliation efforts today. Since the qathet Film Society took over in October 2021 (and working alongside previous owners), there has been a deep commitment to following the lead of the Tla’amin Nation to repair relationships. Between collaborative programming and the newly launched qathet International Film Festival, it’s wonderful to see such a historic space moving forward with inclusivity and respect.
The travel gods even smiled on us on the way home. Not only did we smoothly catch the ferry from Saltery Bay to Earl’s Cove, but when we aimed for the 11:00 AM sailing at Langdale, we managed to board the 10:00 AM run instead because it was running late (and for once, we weren’t!).
A few hiccups along the way just make for better stories, right? On to our next adventure!