Traversing the beautiful West Coast Trail
Focus drives demanding journey
The path is everything but flat — tangled, wet, uneven.
Mud-slicked gaiters cover browncaked hiking boots, the clink of hiking poles accentuating the downbeat of each step. To our right and left — towering cedars that have been marking this wild and rugged coastline for hundreds of years.
Southbound on the West Coast Trail, we keep the ocean to our right, occasional glimpses of silvery blue waves and whitewash in the distance as we silently weave through the trees on the cliffs above. The light grey sand mirrors the moody sky, monochromatic and expansive.
Water falls from the enormous trees. There’s so much moisture in the air, it’s hard to tell whether it’s another coastal shower rolling through, or remaining drips and drops from last night’s downpour.
But I don’t dare look up for long, because in this particular dance, somewhere near kilometre 52, I’ve just placed my left foot onto a slick log that crosses a swampy mess below, Jurassic ferns reaching out and up in all directions. The log is the path now, about 20 centimetres wide, 20 metres long and several metres off the ground. The log slopes upward, crossing the mucky chasm to eventually rejoin the forest floor on the other side. At some point, someone painstakingly carved a rudimentary criss-cross pattern into the length of the log, providing false reassurance underfoot for those who cross.
But this is old hat by now. Four days into our week-long adventure, we cross logs, bridges and ladders with ease, a confident heel-toe routine, not letting our 22-kilogram packs sway us left, right or down.
As one of Canada’s most famous backcountry hiking routes, the West Coast Trail spans from Bamfield to Port Renfrew on the west coast of Vancouver Island, part of the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve. The 75-kilometre route can be accessed from north to south (start at Bamfield), or south to north (start at Port Renfrew), but reservations are necessary, and start online in January each year, as only a limited number of hikers can start from either direction each day.
The trail is open from May 1 to Sept. 30, and features spectacular scenery, empty beaches and a scenic trail that offers its share of beach walking, ladders, suspensions bridges, logs, river pulleys, boardwalks (some rotting, some not) and winding trails to keep you working all day.
The west coast of Vancouver Island is appealing for many hikers because it’s so remote. Once on the trail, there really is no way out, except by boat or helicopter, which rescues approximately 100 seriously injured hikers each season. The region is home to significant wildlife, and while sightings of wolves and cougars are rare, the trail is home to several black bears, who gorge on the abundant berry crops.
On the beaches, sightings of whales, seals and sea lions are common, and tide pools offer a glimpse of the abundant sea life that clings below the surface.
Being in a rainforest ecosystem, hikers are at the mercy of wild weather, which could mean clouds one day, rain the next (and maybe the next and the next after that), followed by glorious, blue-as-canbe skies and sunshine that warms your bones, and more importantly, dries your gear.
The trail originally served as a shipwreck survivors’ path. The rough coastal shore that brought their boats’ demise suddenly became a wild and tangled sanctuary from the frigid waters. Those lucky enough to survive the wreck and managing to reach the shore would face further perils as they made their way inland to safety.
I often thought of the journey for those travellers, likely moving slowly, with significant injuries, and certainly without the luxury of man-made bridges, Gore-Tex clothing, Vibram soles, waterproof tents and dehydrated gourmet meals.
Back on the trail, the log is behind us and the path continues to curve upward, tree roots curling across the trail like rigid fingers, serving as natural steps and handholds through the muddy terrain. Up ahead, a wooden platform hangs off the edge of a green canyon, weathered grey ladder rungs dropping you 18 metres to the start of yet another ladder on a platform below.
Navigating the ladders is a different kind of dance, one where you consciously keep three points of contact on the ladder as you crawl down: Two hands, one foot; two feet, one hand, on repeat. One slip could end your trip, so you maintain your focus until your feet land back on solid ground.
Life on the trail can provide interesting contrasts. The hours of walking in spectacular nature can magically slip by, while at times the kilometres can stretch on forever. The stretches of beach walking can seem inviting, but heavy, wet sand will slow you down and slippery kelp-covered rocks will make you second-guess every step you take.
Inland, depending on the conditions, there are sections of the trail where travelling one kilometre per hour is the norm. At dusk, the evening sun will linger on the horizon for ages as you prep camp and cook dinner, then suddenly dip down, enclosing your oceanside home in stars and darkness, as you inch closer to the fire for warmth and comfort before tucking in for a well-deserved rest.
So why do it? Those who dare to venture on the West Coast Trail understand the spell it casts on its visitors. While everyone takes the same path, each journey unfolds differently. The weather, your gear, your strength and your mindset will make or break it for you.