Weekend Photos: The West Coast Trail, Vancouver Island

True confessions time: I went for a hike yesterday instead of working on my photos and writing this post. So the weekend post is going up mid-day on Saturday. I also have a problem: a quick skim through my photos from the West Coast Trail (a mere 4-day trip and less than half the whole trail) had me selecting over 80 photos I want to share. I had to trim that down a LOT.

 

I did this hike in the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve on the west coast Vancouver Island July 18-21 with  my friend Sumi. She handled the logistics of permits and transportation--a non-trivial effort for which I am very grateful! Our hike was intended to be 2 night and 3 days, but because they warn that the trail can have issues--washouts, high water, inconvenient tides--we got the permit for 3 nights. By the end of the first day we had figured out two things: miles on this trail are a lot longer than on other trails, and we wanted to stay out there as long as we could. That led to an easy decision to shorten our days and stay for 3 nights. We spent the extra time sitting on the beach watching for whale spouts.

Getting Ready

Having left the car at our end point, we caught the hiker bus that serves all 3 access points to the WCT as well as the Juan de Fuca Trail.

Because the set-up takes all day, we spent the night at the motel in Nitinaht Village. The mid-way entry point we used sits on First Nations land and is served by the villagers. The motel was reasonably priced and Lucy, the innkeeper, was a treat. She and her sister had us to dinner!

Matching packs ready to hike. We both use the ULA Circuit, mostly because she liked hers so much I was persuaded to try one. Great packs, in my opinion.

We left the car with everything packed and ready, but of course had to open the packs to access things for the night.

In the morning the trip officially started with a boat ride down the 14 miles of Nitinaht Lake. The coastal fog was heavy in the morning, as it so often is.

Entering Nitinaht Narrows, which connects the lake to the ocean (strictly speaking, the Straight of Juan de Fuca). Fun fact: most of the lake water is salt, with a layer of fresh water on top. Thus despite all this water, hikers can't get drinking water at the crossing.

The "ferry" (open scow) ride down the lake ends at the Crab Shack, a floating restaurant where those who are feeling flush and patient can buy a diner breakfast or a crab and baked potato dinner. We moved on, our cash supply not up to those demands.

The track

Rather than a chronological account of the hike, I'm going for thematic. This trail had features I've never before experienced. 

Right out of the gate we had steep muddy slopes and lots of tree roots. I've done that before.

Likewise mud holes, though this trail had some really special ones, and we heard that they were worse on the southern half.

Dilapidated boardwalks aren't unique to this trail, but I have seldom seen so many. Maintenance of the trail infrastructure is a huge and constant task.

I've climbed ladders here and there (mostly in the slickrock country of Utah), but never anything like these. The 130' climb from the beach was accomplished in 4 long ladder segments for a total of 75 steps.

Up the ladders was one thing, down was another. I think this one was nearly 60 rungs. My first descent had me taking a deep gulp.

Also unique in my experience was the self-operated cable car that crosses the Klanawa River (I believe there are a couple more in the southern section we didn't do).

Just big enough for two, and a pretty heavy car--we strained to get it up to the platform on the other side.

The tallest ladder, at 62 rungs. We had a pact not to shoot each other from below while climbing, but that didn't mean I couldn't shoot a stranger. It gives a good idea of the climb.

Along the bluffs

Part of the time we hiked the beaches, and the rest of the time we hiked along the bluff some 100' above the shore. That sometimes meant views of the shore, and sometimes meant walking in the woods.

Half-log boardwalks help keep hikers out of the muck. They were usually scored to make them less slippery. In some places, the scoring was art.

 

The trail began its life as a life-saving trail, to allow access to ships wrecked on this seriously hazardous coastline. There are remnants there still.

The rusting remains of a donkey engine--a small free-standing steam engine that provided power for various tasks. Along this trail, I can only guess it was either for logging or to haul supplies up to the bluff.

 

In one spot, there were even a couple of Adirondack chairs on a spot with a view. We took the opportunity to sit a while and enjoy first lunch.

Another coastal highlight is the Pachena Point Lighthouse, build in 1907 and still in operation, though the historic tower has been rendered obsolete by a newer light that doesn't require manual lighting. The station is still manned, however.

Sea lion rock was less of a success, as the fog and drizzle made it hard to see the critters. We could hear and smell them, though.

The Beaches

We enjoyed the beaches both as a hiking route and while in camp, as all campsites were on the beach--I'll get to those in a minute. The big thing to do on the beach (besides try not to break an ankle slipping on the rocks) is to watch for whales. We saw a lot of them, and in camp were happy to spend long periods gazing out to sea scanning for spouts and hoping to see them waving their tails at us as they dove.

Our first bit of beach was deceptively easy walking, being mostly firm sand and no rocks.

The Hole-in-the-Wall arch at Tsusiat Point is a highlight. It can be threaded, but only a very low tides. We weren't stupid enough to try in these conditions.

We learned to watch for clumps of fishing floats to tell us where the trail returns to the woods to go around impassable heads.

Fluking--probably humpback whale.

Orcas swam closer inshore, and don't fluke.

Spouts and the back of a whale or orca.

Over-warm sea waters (due to climate change) have devastated sea star populations. Lacking their main predator, sea urchin populations have exploded, wreaking havoc on the kelp forests sea otters depend on. The tide-line everywhere was loaded with sea urchin shells.

Mussels covered the rocks and their shells often covered the beach. They are good eating, but not in July, when toxic algae blooms can render them unhealthy.

Camps.

I'm including sunrise and sunset in the camps section, since we saw them from camp when they happened at all (two of the 3 mornings were fog-shrouded). We missed the first sunset because we couldn't wait for it. So far west in the time zone, the sun wasn't going down until about 9:15, which is past "hiker midnight." It was a strain to stay up that late.

Camping on the trail is restricted to established camp areas with bathrooms. That meant fairly large crowds in each spot, but the noise of the ocean covered snores, and with a fire ban in effect no one was sitting up late.

Key marker of a camp area. Yes, we had to climb ladders to reach the outhouses. There were good views from the front porch, though.

Our first camp was at Tsusiat Falls, along with 70 or 80 others.

The falls. A good place for fresh water (be sure to filter) and a quick dip.

The view from the Tsusiat outhouse captures only a corner of the campground.

Our tents.

The second camp was at Tsocowis Creek, with another waterfall. Note the bridge we were on just before dropping a series of ladders to the beach. A work crew of 2 was up there working on rebuilding them, but they hadn't yet failed and we made it down safely.

Home sweet home. The large tent behind mine is the work crew's kitchen and living room (they had smaller tents behind for separate bedrooms). This is a less popular camp spot and we only shared with a few other parties.

Full moon on the rise.

Sunset. Note from the location how much this coast actually runs east-west, rather than north-south.

Morning sun breaking through the mist.

Stinklet taking in the camp scene. On the 3rd day, with only 3 miles to cover, we hung about hoping our tents would dry and enjoying the morning.

Crossing the raging and challenging Michigan Creek to enter camp.

Crashing surf at Michigan Creek, our 3rd and final camp.

I have so many more photos and even more great memories. This trail isn't for everyone--several of my friends have turned pale just at the photos of the ladders--but it was perfect for us.

Apologies for the unmercifully long post!

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2024
 As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated. 


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