Day #8:Homeward Bound!

There is nothing unique about getting up and leaving except the time we actually break camp and leave. This morning the women head out at 10:00.  It is a warm, dry, sunny day.

 My feet are covered with blisters and I spend 15 minutes patching up my feet with Shacklee Baby Diaper Rash Cream (Zinc Oxide, Caster seed oil, beeswax, oat kernel oil, olive oil, safflower seed oil, silica, aloe, chamomilia recutita extract, etc.), bandaids and moleskin.  Sounds funny, I know, but it works for me.  I have a huge blister on the base of my right big toe where the skin was torn away along the heel, and the side of my right foot.  Moleskin acts quite well to protect what is. I am in a lot of pain and Brian dole me out a time-release Iboprofen on Thursday morning, and also this morning.  I'm generally pretty stoic
and resistant to using meds of this kind, but, you know, when the going gets tough, sometimes the tough give in and take the pain killers that are available.

 The path has a few rough sections, but there are no steep up-and-down climbs. The closer we get to the parking lot, the easier it becomes. Brian and I talk about how good it feesl to have completed this Trail-- this is really IT, a short hike to the parking lot. We are relieved and elated. With my painful feet I am still a little slow.

About a kilometer from the parking lot, the Trail splits, one path leads to San Joseph Bay and the other one East to the parking lot (Cape Scott Trail Head).  As we near the junction we meet up with hordes of people on day trips or weekend junkets.  There is a group of young boys that are possibly Scouts on a weekend camp-out to Cape Scott.  When I turn left at the Junction I encounter people just sauntering along on a leisurely day's walk to San Joseph Bay.

I meet my first visible Park Ranger around here, a young woman in her early 20s.  She ask me where I have hiked.  When I tell her the North Coast Trail, she exclaims, "Oh wow!" and when I added that I was 64, she seems quite impressed and we have a nice convo.

We all converge in the parking lot by noon. I am surprised to see how full the lot is-- there are maybe a hundred vehicles here.

While we wait, we sit down in a wooden shelter.  The first thing I do is take off my hiking boots off and dig my runners out of my backpack and slip into them-- nothing like the comfort of old shoes!  This is the last time I will wear these hiking boots-- they are really sturdy and mostly water-proof.  One thing I learned is there is water-proof and then there is WATER-PROOF.   One way to test for water-proofing is to put your boots in a bucket of water for a few hours, and if the water doesn't soak up, they are water-proof.  I had bought a silicone treatment for the one boot that did leak (I treated both), however, the first day I sunk up above my boots, and even with gators, water slooshed around inside.  I had wet feet for the first few days of the trip.

The shuttle bus arrives about twenty minutes after we had get to the parking lot. Nobody disembarks so we assume no one else is starting on the hike from this end of the Trail.  We met some folks on the Trail who had chosen to do that, but generally people start with the more challenging beginning, as we did.

The driver snaps pictures of Brian and I with Brian's camera.  He hands us forms to fill out while we are driving.

45 minutes drive down a dusty logging road we arrive in Holberg, a village of about 300 people employed-- or connected to someone employed-- by the logging industry.  We pull up to an old wood-frame building overlooking the Inlet.  This is the famous Scarlet Ibis Pub and Restaurant.  We are excited to be here, finally having the first restaurant meal in over a week.  The four of us have the fish and chip special, a treat after roughing it for these 8 days in the wilderness.  Three pieces of deep-fried fish and I suck back a Heineken dark non-alcoholic beer.  What can I say?  I am from a German background, so even if I don't drink anymore, the non-alcoholic brew has the same effect of relaxing me and quenching my thirst.  I'm well beyond the novelty though-- at one time our younger son exclaimed, "Hey, Dad, you're drinking so many of those, if you don't watch out you'll be a non-alcoholic!"  The other three had real brews.

In the restaurant John, the shuttle driver, passes around "experience" forms for us to fill out.  Some of the questions were: "what was the highlight of your hike?" "where are you from?" etc.  He has taken our pictures in the parking lot and will put the printed photos in the Memory Book.  We have the opportunity to read about other people's reflections and comments about the hike, and look at their post-Trail photos.  There are about a hundred photos in the book.  About 500 people a year complete the trail. In comparison, about 6000 people a year complete the West Coast Trail.

We spend around an hour and a half in the restaurant, enjoying the ambience, conversations with other diners, and of course, food. About five minutes down the road in the bus the driver indicates an overgrown trail running through the trees to the left that he explains was the start of a half-finished access route to the Danish settlement over a hundred years ago.  Most of the Danes moved to Port Hardy, booming at that time, when their long-term plans for settlement and prosperity didn't work out.

About half-way between Holberg and Port Hardy we stop at the Boot Tree.  Tradition is that you hang your used hiking boots over the tree's branches.  Brian and I leave our damaged walking sticks there as well.

When we arrive back at Port Hardy it's around 4 pm, about an hour-and-a-half drive from the Cape Scott Trail Head parking lot.  We trail over to the marina and plug in some coins for a shower.  This is our first hot-water shower in eight days-- back to Civilization!

We pull into our driveway about 8pm.  Fittingly, my Sabbath has begun.
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Anything mentioned in this blog that is of a "health or medical nature" is the opinion and/or experience of the blogger and not an endorsement or a cure. Please see your trusted health professional.

Day #3- Nahwitti River Campsite to Cape Sutil East

This morning we walk from the campsite through the trees, onto the beach, to stretch.  There is a large Black Bear feeding at the mouth of the Nahwhitti River, about 3-400 meters away.  We all scramble to get our cameras and make our way closer to get some shots.

Black Bear feeding at the mouth of the Nahwitti  Photo by ©Brian Holden 2014

As we are taking pictures the bear scents us, pulls itself up on a log, turns and stares directly at us.  We yell and it pirouettes around and lopes off into the trees.

Interesting knot in a tree trunk   Photo by ©Brian Holden 2014

Two hikers, who are also medical students at UBC, examine a skeleton on the tent platform.  Seal? Photo by EZ2014

We eat breakfast, pack up, and walk upstream a kilometer to where we will cross the Nahwitti River by cable car.  About half-way there we go through the famous Emerald Forest.  Moss-covered trees with sunlight streaming through the forest raises our spirits.

Swarms of spawning fish Photo by ©Brian Holden 2014

We pause to fill our water bottles again from the bank of the Nahwitti River and watch the Sockeye swirling around, sticking around to spawn in that particular area of the river.

We arrive at the ladders up to the platform with the cable car that we will take across the river.  When it is wet, one has to be very cautious because the 15 - 20 foot ascent is 90 degrees vertical, and the railings and steps are often slippery.   No more than 2 people-- or 600 pounds-- can be safely accommodated by the car in one trip across.  At the beginning of the cable ride, we have fun because gravity moves us, but past the midway point we need to exert quite a bit more effort to pull ourselves to the destination tower.

Pulling ourselves across the river. Photo by ©Brian Holden 2014

Suspended above the river, it's exhilarating to see sights from a perspective that one normally doesn't have.  We throw our hiking poles to the ground before carefully descending the ladder.

The next section of the trail has segments that zigzag through dense forest.  It's important to keep an eye out for the trail markers (red triangles posted on trees).  Three young guys who passed us earlier had gone to the right along the river and gotten lost, but corrected their journey and pass us again.

Within a half-hour away from the cable car the Trail muddies up, and is very challenging due to foot-stubbing root extensions and the steep climb upwards towards Long Leg Hill.  At the top of Long Leg Hill we view more forest.

The Trail descends to a beach down the longest set of wooden steps in Cape Scott Provincial Park.

When we came to the next beach it is high tide with an impassable stone outcrop, so we have no choice but to camp here.  We opt to set up on a sandy deltoid-shaped section of the beach.  At the other end of the beach, two small falls spring from a cleft in the rocks and pool together and offer us the choice to fill up the water bottles from the water falls or the pool.

Again, the four of us enjoy fellowship around the campfire.  There is an abundant supply of dry twigs and driftwood along the beach to feed the fire.

There are not, however, any suitable tree conformations to hang up our food supply.  The trees are either not close together enough, sturdy enough, or low enough for us to reach.  We do find one possible candidate tree, but it is not sturdy enough to handle four bags of food.  On the beach we locate a 20-foot section of boardwalk that has washed up here (from where?) that we sit on while eating.  We decide to push our sealed bags of food under this find, and hill piles of rock up along the sides to secure and hide our food bags from wild animals, we hope.  We try to lift the structure from end to end, and it seems immovably firm and secure.  (The next morning I, unthinkingly, flip the boardwalk up on its side and laugh-- it would  have been a piece of cake for a bear to get at our food).

After we eat, we roll up our pant legs and walk in the sand and crashing waves.
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Anything mentioned in this blog that is of a "health or medical nature" is the opinion and/or experience of the blogger and not an endorsement or a cure. Please see your trusted health professional.

Day #1 - First Day On the Trail- Shushartie Bay to Skinner Creek

Skipper George welcomes us to the Water Taxi

When Brian and I get up (Friday), we do our final packing, and load what we aren't taking, into the van (the clothes we traveled in and Brian's hatchet because it is too large and heavy and we expect to

Fellow passengers

have plenty of wood to burn).

At the motel restaurant we have our last cooked meal.  We check out, load on our backpacks, and walk a block to the Marina to catch the Water Taxi.  The sky is overcast, but no rain.

Leaving the harbour I am struck by the awesome natural rugged beauty of rocks and trees.  Dolphins  unexpectedly pop up within ten minutes of leaving the dock.

Glen Lion Motel in back of Marina

Two of the passengers are hikers from Montana.  The remaining three passengers are daytripping to and from Shushartie Bay.

There are no toilets on the 12-passenger boat so Skipper George slowed down to enable one of the men, a diabetic, to pee from the stern off the boat.  This fellow and his son have ridden from Alberta on their Vulcan motorcycles to visit a friend in Port Hardy.  This is their first time on the Coast.

During the one-hour boat trip to Shushartie Bay, the Trail Head, Skipper George fills us in on what to expect.

A Foggy Greeting at the Trail Head at Shushartie Bay

As we near the Bay, we hit dense flog.  George uses his instrumentation to safely land us.  Within 200 feet of the rocky shore the fog suddenly lifts.  We see rocks and an ancient, old growth forest, ascending up the grade about 800 feet into the air.

Brian disembarking from the Water Taxi

Majesty!

About ten minutes after we are dropped and the Water Taxi has gone, we notice a bear about a half a kilometer across the Bay.  Our first sighting of wild life!

The four of us hikers arrange our packs and whatnot.  We take some pictures, orient ourselves and have a bite.  We looked at the Park Map.  There is a Tide Table and a booth  for people who haven't already done so, to pay their park fees and register to hike.  We don't hit the trail until almost 10 a.m

Up and At 'Em... Hitting the Trail from Shushartie Bay to Skinner Creek

Our goal is to make it to Skinner Creek (8.7 km) by sunset.  We understand that there are no drinking water sources between the Trail Head at Shushartie and Skinner Creek.

Right off the bat we're climbing a steep, wet and muddy incline but we have a rope to hang on to and pull

Not Steps- Just Boards Jammed into the Side of the Trail

ourselves up.

The next two hours most of the terrain is very difficult-- we are constantly going up, and have to use ropes several times.  It is steep with lots of slippery, wet mud, some over a foot deep.  There are many big tree roots and logs to climb over. During the same period, it is raining lightly and a light fog swathes us.  Discouraged, I wonder what I have gotten myself into.

After the initial two hours the trail continues to be muddy, up and down and winding but with only a few steep elevation gains and drops.  Usually ropes are there to assist.

We start to encounter a few sections that have greasy wooden steps, and there are sections of boardwalk. Progress is slow due to the muddy and challenging conditions.

Ladder Down the Rabbit Hole?

I take heart in knowing that this day's trek is supposed to be the most difficult day of the total trail.  We pass through some areas of huge, old growth trees.  Around mid-afternoon, Brian who has a better go at it, asks if it's okay if he goes ahead to Skinner Creek to set up camp ahead of us.  I agree that that is a good idea.

Help Getting Down... (?)

Around 4 pm I have to stop because I experience debilitating leg cramps and over the following hours I have to stop six times to massage my legs, straighten and shake them out.  I know the cramps are because I am dehydratd-- I've packed only a litre and a half of water in the morning, all I had capacity for.

The two women hikers catch up with me.  We hike together for a short while, and while we hike a boardwalk section we see a small sign stuck in the ground that reads: 4.3 km- Halfway Point. Here it is almost 5pm and we can hardly believe that we are only halfway to the Skinner Creek Campsite.

Stuck to the sign is a note from my friend, Brian.  He states that he has broken one of his hiking poles, and

From Time to Time: Boardwalk Joy

that after he sets up camp he will come back and help me carry my pack.  I have mixed feelings.  We aren't sure how much longer it will take to get there, but the gesture of my friend's to come back and help me, makes me less discouraged and more optimistic.

I assume that the remaining leg of the day's hike will be somewhat easier because of what we have already gone through.  However, I am tired, dehydrated, and lacking in energy.  The two women hikers decide to go ahead because they are worried about getting to the campsite after dark. I am okay with their decision.

I plod along, stopping occasionally to rest and massage my leg.  Ironically, walking through the mud is easier on my left bad knee than walking on the boardwalk.

Another Part of the Long and Winding Trail

I felt fairly positive because the trail is intermittent boardwalk and not as rough as earlier today.  After 9 pm dark is falling gradually and I am slowed to a snail's pace.  I am also wondering what happened to Brian-- I know I am much closer to the Campsite and I assumed that he will be back to pick me up sooner.  I battle worries about being lost (I don't have a map-- I gave it to Brian) and fear that dangerous wildlife will begin to become interested in me.  I haven't seen any wildlife except for a grouse and the bear in Shushardie Bay when we have set out, but the shadows are rife with possibility.

On my next stop I drink a little water, realized I had eaten much, and had a couple of Clif bars.  I got out my flashlight and read over the notes I had compiled.  I prayed for God to get me to a campsite soon.

Mo Trail, Mo Mud

I continue to plod along.  There are some difficult sections because I am not descending towards the ocean.  I have not heard the roar of the surf for past two hours.  (I discover later that I was hiking parallel to the ocean.)

At around 10:30pm I came to a T in the Trail and choose to keep on going straight ahead.  The Trail appears hazardously steep in the dark with only my little flashlight to guide me.  I turn around and go back up to the T location.  I noticed a little homemade wood sign with an arrow pointing to what turned out to be the right.

I strain to consult my notes.  I head slowly in the direction of the arrow and in less than a minute I come to steps going down and know in my bones that I am nearing Skinner Creek.  I stay to the right and crouch down to limp under two large fallen trees.  In the dark it is a challenge to find out where I am.  After what seems like a much longer time than it actually is, I am at the beach and see Skinner Creek to the left

Meal Interrupted: Carnage en route

and not too far away I catch the light of flashlights waving.  When they see my flashlight they (the three of them and another hiker coming from the other direction) start yelling and cheering.

Brian immediately gives me a litre of water from the Creek to drink.  Everyone tells me how happy they are to see me.  He also fills up my bottles as I go to set up my tent.  I am beyond exhausted.

I am in a state of shock and trembling.  Keeping the lentil supper down is a task because of my shaking.

I learn that Brian has also been having leg cramps and wasn't able to come back to get me.  I am so thankful to God for bringing me to safety for the night.

Another segment of the trail (above): I promise I will never complain about taking the dog for a walk again!

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Anything mentioned in this blog that is of a "health or medical nature" is the opinion and/or experience of the blogger and not an endorsement or a cure. Please see your trusted health professional.