The massive red cedar stood nearly 200 feet tall, buttressed by an enormous tangle of roots. Canada's gnarliest tree, the sign posted on the viewing platform told me. It was hard to argue. The knotted burls gave it an eerily human look, straight out of Walt Disney's Fantasia. It was my first time as a tree tourist, but here on the southwestern side of Vancouver Island, old-growth forests are the main attraction.

I was with my husband, Jean-Franois, in Port Renfrew, the aptly named Tall Tree Capital of Canada and the second stop on our four-day road trip following the Pacific Marine Circle Route. The loop opened up more than a decade ago, when a former logging road was paved, linking the east and west sides of southern Vancouver Island. As a new resident of Canada living deep in the interior, I hadn't yet spent any time on the island. Jean-Franois, who lived here years ago, couldn't believe how remote the region still felt given its proximity to Victoria, British Columbia's pretty capital city and our road trip's start and end point. We could have easily driven the 180-mile route in a single day, but we stretched it out to linger in groves of ancient trees, check out the emerging wine scene, and maybe, if we were lucky, spot a black bear foraging on the beach at low tide.

Our journey had begun the day before, in sleepy Cowichan Bay, deep in the wine country about an hour north of Victoria. The word cowichan, or quw'utsun', in the First Nations Coast Salish language, means land warmed by the sun, an appropriate description of the vineyards and orchards we rolled past. Along an empty eight-mile stretch of road between Cowichan Bay and Mill Bay, where the inky-blue Salish Sea is the backdrop, Jean-Franois and I stopped and sipped at a few wineries. During a dinner of local mussels served in the restored farmhouse at Unsworth Vineyards, our server explained what makes the region's wines unique. The focus is on unorthodox blends and newer varietals, he said, developed for a coastal climate. Wine traditionalists might raise an eyebrow, but one sip of Allegro, a bright white, had me convinced.

The regions playful sea lions

Alana Paterson

The next day we drove inland. When we turned onto the one-time logging road, we immediately lost cell service, as if this stretch of the route demanded an analog-age attention span. Cruising through backcountry, we saw trees in every stage of development: feathery new growth, packed stands of second growth vying for sun, and at least one ancient treea marvelous Sitka spruce as wide as a Volkswagen Beetle. We pulled off to see Big Lonely Doug, the second-largest Douglas fir in Canada. As the sole survivor in an otherwise clear-cut plateau, Doug appeared even taller than its 230 feet. The sight of this lone giant in an expanse of stumps was heartbreaking.

After arriving in Port Renfrew, we settled into our cozy cottage at Snuggery Cove. We strolled along the dock to the local pub, where we watched bald eagles and harbor seals from the patio over pints of blond ale. When we set out the next morning, we were looking forward to checking out the seashore where the road begins its loop back toward Victoria. There are dozens of beaches along the 34 miles before our next stop, near the town of Shirley. We pulled over at one and headed down a pathway through a grove of old-growth trees draped in moss to the sand. Shoes in hand, we traced the shoreline to a cove to watch the windsurfers.

The island is home to some of the worlds tallest trees.

Jessica Sample

On the third morning we woke in the outskirts of metropolitan Victoria. We silenced our phones, which had sprung back to life, as we wound along the hiking trails at Point No Point Resort, the trills of golden-crowned kinglets as our playlist. We lingered over veggie-stuffed omelets at Shirley Delicious, a farm-to-table caf inside an A-frame cabin. The older gentleman and his wife seated beside us turned out to be Ken and Charlotte Greenwood, owners of Livin' the Dream Farm, whose jaunty rainbow-colored sign we'd spied earlier on the road. Ken told us they had moved here four years ago, founding a 10-acre homestead where three generations of Greenwoods now live and work. Are they living the dream? Absolutely, Ken said. It's even better than we imagined.

Once we reached Victoria we delayed reentry by spending the afternoon aboard a catamaran with Eagle Wing Whale & Wildlife Tours. Sea lions lounged on rocks and humpback whales breached the protected waters of Race Rocks Ecological Reserve. Later, in a hotel room overlooking the harbor, Jean-Franois and I sipped a local gin and enjoyed the view. In the morning we'd board the ferry for the mainland, but I wasn't sure we were ready. We still hadn't seen a black bear.

Mark Nerys

Getting here

If you're flying into Vancouver International Airport, rent a car and drive 18 miles south to the Tsawwassen ferry terminal; it's a 90-minute sail to Victoria. If you're landing at Sea-Tac, take the scenic three-hour passenger ferry ride from Pier 69 in Seattle to Victoria and rent a car there.

Where to stay

Bookend your road trip at the Fairmont Empress hotel in Victoria (the top-floor rooms have prime harbor views). Borrow a hotel bike to explore Beacon Hill Park and pedal past what was once the world's tallest totem pole. Doubles from $268; fairmont.com

Tack-on activities

Catch a ferry from Victoria to nearby Salt Spring Island in Canada's Gulf Islands; the crossing takes around 40 minutes. Or, for a thrill, take a seaplane from Victoria's Inner Harbor to Seattle's Lake Union on Kenmore Air; from there, they'll shuttle you to Sea-Tac.

This article appeared in the May/June 2020 issue of Cond Nast Traveler. Subscribe to the magazine here.

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A Vancouver Island Road Trip of Crisp Wines and Gigantic Trees - Cond Nast Traveler